![]() We made our way around to the back part of the restaurant. ![]() After about 45 minutes of leaning up against our rental car, baking in the noon sun, and watching crowds of urchins wrestle with each other as their mothers attempted to corral them, our reservation name was called. So when we arrived, it was a small, tropical shack of sorts that was all open air dining which once again made me wonder what they did when the winds and rain picked up as they always seemed to do in the afternoon in Florida? Pondering aside, it looked like the natives were quite restless as a line streamed out the front of the hut as we attempted to find a spot in their meager parking lot. I didn’t know what really to expect in terms of food, but my parents were raving about it. ![]() My final lunch on vacation took place in an eatery called Dune Dog Cafe located at 775 N. Today’s entry on Mastication Monologues is a short one and the penultimate in my Florida food chronicle.
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