Blend: Sweet, Sour, Spicy, Classy
Hwy 395 in Watercolor Crossings, Seagrove Beach, 231-4880
By Bruce Collier June 15, 2006 Issue
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Blend sits in the Watercolor Crossings shopping and business center on County Highway 395 in Seagrove Beach. Next door is a well-known grocery store, so if you shop in the Seagrove Beach area, you will have seen the large, cheerful sign promising “exotic” foods. Closer inspection reveals a “Hippies Welcome” sign in the window. I saw none when I ate there, and I’m not sure how a real hippie would feel about game meats on a menu. Not my problem.

Blend is a shotgun-style restaurant, with a limited amount of table space, and a bar on the right side. They sell beer, wine, and brewed-to-order coffee and tea. Among their beverages are several of Louisiana’s Abita Springs line of beers and an excellent root beer. The atmosphere is cool, somewhat minimalist, with colorful paintings accenting the overall dark tone of the furnishings.

The menu is printed daily, so you might not find some, or all, of what we had to choose from. Appetizers, soups and salads, main courses, and sides are listed. Desserts are recited by the server. Our server—the only one on duty that evening—was a friendly, efficient young lady who kept the beverages refreshed and the silverware changed, bringing each new set on a plate. She told us she was eventually moving to Paris with her fiancÈ, who was going to study cooking at the Cordon Bleu. Poor kids.

My friend sipped her Abita Purple Haze, admitting it was unlike that other Purple Haze she had encountered in her younger days, and we studied the menu. We had time, and no one rushed us. My friend observed that she always planned these working meals with her dog in mind, so she was attracted to the double-French boar chops.

For starters, she ordered shrimp Creolaise, and I had the pan-fried soft shell crab. The other two appetizers were seared sea scallops and crab cakes. The shrimp were of good size and reasonable number, sauced with a light meuniere and served over toast points. My crab was both crunchy and tender, with a sweet, butter-enriched Thai chili sauce.

We had two salads and two soups to choose from. We both elected to have ours as a side with the main course, though you can order them as separate courses. My friend had the house salad, and I forced myself to eat a bowl of venison gumbo. That’s right, Bambi stew.

We had the server bring this course between the appetizer and the entree. The salad was a mix of spring greens, with roasted almonds, pineapple, sweet red peppers, dressed with sweet Thai chili vinaigrette. My gumbo was almost fork-thick, loaded with meat and spiced with a subtle heat that rose to a moderate glow, then eased off. Anything more would have dominated the dish. Oh, deer.

My friend went for the boar chops, and I picked the potato-crusted grouper. You get two chops, with elegant, pointy little ribs poking out, almost like a skewer for the meat. Unlike regular pork, boar has a richer, chewier, almost beef-like quality. The sweet-tart pomegranate demiglace gave it a sort of Gallic BBQ quality. My friend ate all she could, then got the ribs boxed up for Lucky Pup. A mound of sweet and spicy Cajun fried rice came on the side.

I got my grouper with fresh asparagus. The fish was stacked on top of the asparagus, topped with crunchy potato strips and a Tabasco beurre blanc. The fish was tender and the sauce at just the right level of richness and heat.

Other entree choices were lamb chops, salmon, filet mignon (sold by the ounce), grouper francaise, spaghetti marinara, voodoo pasta, scallops scampi, and chicken steamed on a bed of “locally grown hay.” Try that last one, somebody, and report to me.

The house had three desserts: cheesecake, warm bread pudding, and house-made ginger/pear ice cream. We both got the bread pudding, with ice cream on the side. The pudding was the looser variety, not a cake-like lump, laced with chocolate, nuts, cinnamon, and a white icing that reminded me of cinnamon rolls. The ice cream tasted predominantly of fresh ginger, and was smooth and creamy.

Blend is relatively new to the area, and they are testing the waters, offering an ever-changing menu that covers most of the fine dining bases. Any restaurant that’s playing Miles Davis when I come in has made a great head start with me. If that sounds prejudiced, don’t worry. The food made me forget even Miles.

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