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Who's Al Fresco?

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Written by Thom Ring

East Ferry Deli, Jamestown, Rhode Island.

It's al fresco time in New England.

This past Memorial Day weekend begged us all to get outdoors. Perfect was the perfect word to describe the weather, save for a quick thunderstorm that raced through my hometown Saturday evening. My wife Jan and I had no holiday obligations, so Sunday we decided to just head south for the Rhode Island shore and wind up anywhere. Indeed, about the closest thing to a plan we had was our intention to dine outdoors as close to the water as possible.

Anyone can appreciate the pleasures of dining outside on a perfect day, even if we can't imagine who Al Fresco is. That would be why there are so many terraces, gardens and patios devoted to dining in the open air. Yet so often al fresco dining smacks me more as a marketing strategy planned in a windowless boardroom and less as the recognition of a perfect setting by some restauranteur. There's a Chipotle Grille near where I work (I don't know if I spelled that word correctly. I still haven't decided how to pronounce it. It's one of those words that seemed to come out of an ad so I don't worry about it). It's on the edge of a parking lot on a rise above Bald Hill Road, one of those highway strips surrounded by commerce. The view is spectacular -  if you like to gaze out at parked Toyotas and traffic jams.

Our plan was less than perfect; not only did we have only the vaguest notion of where we might go to fulfill our quest, but on this weekend the Rhode Island shore was crawling with tourists, not to mention Porsches, Cadillac SUVs and other accouterments of the high life. Still, we struck gold at lunch and silver for dinner. This despite the fact that the primary consideration in pointing my car once we were down there was in what direction the traffic was moving.

The island town of Jamestown was busy but not overwhelmed. Most tourists cruise right over it on their way to the summer madness of Newport. Right where the town's main drag delivers you to the harbor you'll find the East Ferry Deli, named after the boat that connected the island to Newport before the Claiborne Pell Bridge was built, the ferry once docking across the street from where the deli now stands. This is an unpretentious place where sandwiches are made with serious ingredients like the fresh-from-the-shell crab in my sandwich and Jan's salad.

Part of the fun of sitting on a patio at a place like this is the people-watching. And for me, I must admit, the car and motorcycle-watching as well. All were out in force, and at their most beautiful, as, unlike on Bald Hill Road, here was all about being seen, not going shopping or attending to some other mundane workday chore. And the view features more beauty than that. Boats bob at their moorings or float out into Narragansett Bay. The Pell bridge looms over the scene like a giant picture frame.

We lingered long after lunch and then wandered over to the shore, setting a blanket near the docks. When we finally wandered north a bit to Wickford, we found that on this Sunday evening the village pretty much was shutting down for the day. So we headed south again, making our way to Narragansett.

The beachfront here was jumping. Bathers at the town's beach were doing some lingering of their own. So were a few surfers, this purportedly being the best spot in Rhode Island to catch a wave.  There was a wedding reception getting underway at the Twin Tower location that picturesquely straddles the beach road. Bridesmaids apparently were dressed in tribute to Juicy Fruit gum.  Motorcycles and still more Porsches lined the road. Hundreds of people lined the wall that separated beach from road.

There were a couple of spots where dining was available outside. However, the popular Coast Guard House proved too popular on this holiday weekend. Besides, their outdoor fare consisted mostly of sandwiches and burgers. We'd already had lunch.

We wound up at the restaurant located at the Ocean Rose Inn. That was fine with us. We'd dined at Turtle Soup before and found it first-rate. The only disappointment came when we realized we would not be able to hold out for a table on the porch or front lawn. But the picture windows surrounding our table indoors succeeded in dismissing our initial disappointment.

Yes, Turtle Soup is expensive and not what you might describe as casual dining. On the other hand, I wore shorts and a T-shirt and hardly appeared out of place, and they referred to their mashed potatoes as "smashed" so the place hardly was stuffy. I passed on all the fancy sauce-laden dishes on the menu in favor of a  well-prepared steak. Jan got the salmon. We enjoyed a luscious creme-brulee as we noticed the Pell Bridge miles away, looming over the outline of Jamestown, its lights suggesting a diamond necklace.

Finally, satiated not only by the food but the views, we strolled back up the road to my car. First, however, we spent a while relaxing on our private porch, enjoying one last bout of people-watching. No, we don't own one of the Victorians lining the road. But if you ever find yourself in Narragansett on a summer evening, take note of the realty office across the road from the Coast Guard House. The chairs on its expansive porch proved quite comfortable, and nobody even noticed us lounging in front of the darkened building.

You'll also note that the photo accompanying this piece shows the East Ferry Deli but not the view from its patio. If you want to linger over that scene you'll have to get to the deli yourself. A photo couldn't do it justice. One of Bald Hill Road probably would, though.

So you won't find that here, either.