Best... Cioppino... Everrr...

So, again I have to resist my genetic predisposition towards describing the minutia of my travel day. The way we hit the road from El Cajon at 4:25am. Headed up the 52, to the 805. Then from the 5 to the 101 as we came down out of the Sepulveda Pass into the Valley, 101 up through--

No! Must... not... bore readers...

Fast forward to the afternoon.

We took the 183 out of Salinas. Passed the National Steinbeck Center (they have Rocinante, right there in the building!), into Castroville. Resisted the urge to stop at the Giant Artichoke. Then down to the coast and into Moss Landing.

There are two distinctive features of Moss Landing, CA. One is a pair of giant smokestacks at a power station of some sort. The other is Phil's Fish Market and Eatery. (The snazzy website with flash animation belies the funkiness of the place a bit. Rest assured, you won't need to wear a tie.)

If you don't know where you're going, you have no chance of stumbling on Phil's. If you do know where you're going, you have a chance, but it's a long shot. The road twists through the Moss Landing marina, past all sorts of industrial-looking buildings and boats, with sea lions barking in the background, until finally you see Phil's.

But that is not the right Phil's.

You have found Phil's Lunch Shack, or Phil's Snack Shack, or something like that. Same Phil, different business. What you want to do now is turn down the least promising-looking road you can, and drive past a bunch of warehouses and docks. The actual Phil's is down there, on the left.

Phil's Fish Market and Eatery lives in a big warehousey type building, with a menu on dry-erase whiteboards that stretch all the way to the cavernous ceiling. There is indeed a full-on fish market in the front, and, as with any respectable fish seller, it does not smell remotely like fish. Just kind of briny.

The food is fresh and there is plenty of it. You can't take a forkful your grilled halibut without having a little salad and rice pilaf spill off the side of the plate. At least I can't. Maybe you can.

The specialty is a huge pot of thick cioppino, full of mussels, clams, &c., that looks like a big helping of primordial ooze with sourdough bread for dipping. I am not very good at those food-writer type fawning descriptions of taste, so I will just say that it is muthaf@kin' AWESOME. Worth a several hour detour the next time you are traveling through central California.