I find it odd when I’m in a restaurant where the basement has an ocean view, but in a neighborhood as steep as North Manhattan Beach it is possible. Specifically, at the Marine Street Café diners may sit by the window with a view up to the undercarriages of cars at entering the gas station or down toward the beach. Any sensible person will soak in the view downhill, mostly because it’s far more scenic and partly because it can be just a bit vertigo inducing.
I had visited this oddly designed restaurant a few times shortly after they opened and was impressed by their sandwiches and simple meals made with top quality ingredients, but there were some glitches in food and service. Recently I heard reports indicating more consistent food and service, so we decided to return for another look.
The restaurant is more fully decorated now, pictures of volleyball greats from past eras oddly well matched to the eclectic décor of mosaics and tiles left by a previous owner. Along with the severe-looking modern furniture, the combination of contemporary, historic, and outré is very well handled. The menu has grown more sophisticated as well, the wine list greatly expanded with small-producer bottles, the food list enlivened with more entrees. Most are contemporary American, but there is still a discernible Vietnamese influence to keep things interesting.
We started with panko-crusted fried shrimp, a bowl of turkey chili, and a glass of Miroballi Grenache Blanc, a delicate, dry, slightly floral wine from California’s central coast. The flavor profile of mildly spicy chili and fried shrimp is different enough that it seems a lot to ask for a wine to complement both, but we enjoyed this one and marked it for further study. We could have bought a bottle on the spot, as the Marine Street Café is licensed to sell bottles on a retail basis.
As for those starters, the turkey chili was complex with a fresh tomato flavor and some cumulative spiciness – not as hot as I usually like it, but enjoyable. The large shrimp were even better, served hot and crisp with what was described as a spicy caper sauce. We found it not spicy at all but liked the creamy texture and combination of pickled tang and herbs addictive – I’d happily use this as a dipping sauce for bread, or almost anything else.
There was only a brief respite between the time we finished our starters and the arrival of the rest of dinner, and we spent it reading the old news clippings on the wall and admiring the dynamic sports photographs while listening to piped-in old-school pop. The tiny rooms in this restaurant lend a sense of intimacy that somehow fits the strains of Nat King Cole, Frank Sinatra, and Tony Bennett.
We had intended to follow the starters by sharing a grilled salad and then progress to main courses, but despite the fact that we had made this intention clear the salad arrived simultaneously with our shrimp tacos and breaded pork chop. This has been a problem on more than one visit; having everything arrive on the kitchen’s schedule rather than the customer’s is not a recipe for a relaxing meal.
As both the tacos and chop were hot and needed to be eaten first, we focused on them instead of the salad, and quickly to avoid them turning soggy. When we got around to the salad, a mix of grilled zucchini, onions, and corn with caramelized walnuts, lettuces, and sliced avocado, it was excellent but so big that more than half went home.
The shrimp tacos were not particularly innovative but well executed – just lots of tasty large grilled shrimp with mild Mexican spices, fresh chopped cabbage, avocado slices, and both a homemade pico de gallo and mild hot sauce. The pork chop was more remarkable – a huge, thick chop that was extremely tender and had a very light breading that somehow never got soggy. Someone in this kitchen really knows their way around a fryer – when I saw the size and thickness of the meat I figured that cooking it completely would make it tough, but it was flawless. It was served over arugula with spinach and a wild rice mix, and was a substantial and delicious meal.
At our server’s suggestion we paired our entrees with a glass of Tolosa unoaked Chardonnay, a fresh-tasting wine with light acid that might have better complemented something in a heavier, creamier sauce, but was nevertheless a find. The wines here seem to have been chosen with skill, and there is a lot more worth investigating on this menu.
The prices at Marine Street Café are moderate – most appetizers are below ten dollars, most entrees around eighteen, and it’s easy to have a full meal here without breaking a twenty. If you explore that wine list in depth or over-order as we did it can cost more, but the experience here is excellent for the price.
2201 Highland Avenue, Manhattan Beach – open daily 7 a.m. to 9 p.m., some parking below and adjacent plus street parking. Outdoor patio, wheelchair access. Menu at marinesteetcafe.com, phone 310-545-5518.
