A Bit of Bermuda in Sunset Beach
The Boat Landing Restaurant offers good food, drinks and views.
Having been to Bermuda at least 15 times, I suppose I qualify as a Bermuda-phile. And, I mean, who isn’t, if you’ve ever been there?
Driving into the parking lot of the Boat Landing Restaurant in Sunset Beach, I had a distinct sense of deja vu. Though I had never been to the Boat Landing before, it had a palpable Bermudian aura, kind of like the famous Swizzle Inn (where they know me very well).
While the Swizzle Inn serves great food and drinks, and hosts a helluva Oktoberfest party, it does not sit on the water as the Boat Landing does. And the Boat Landing also reminds me of one of my all-time favorite haunts in BDA — the now extinct (but never to be forgotten) Ye Olde Cock and Feather Inne, right on Hamilton’s famous Front Street, overlooking Hamilton Harbor. From its wonderful balcony, I’d watch the sunsets set aglow with a special magical light the boats bobbing in the harbor, and to take in that scene with a quality British ale or a Gosling’s Dark and Stormy was, for me, the stuff of legend.
Not surprisingly, I could imagine that same magical light reflecting off boats passing by on the Intracoastal were I to sit on the Boat Landing’s Bermuda-like balcony. I mean, the place is called Sunset Beach for a reason, folks, and though the beach is not visible from the BL, the Intracoastal is and the sunsets are. They’re real. And they are spectacular.
With the CEO of the Northeast’s famous Organized Havens on one arm and my missus on the other, we strode in to see what was in store for us food, drink and view-wise. The layout of the place is rather labyrinthine, with little “snugs,” nooks and crannies for dining as publicly or as privately as you’d like, including the main dining room, which has a water view.
Then there is a whole upstairs area, which includes a bar, more seating inside and available seating out on the balcony provided the time and the season agree. Because we had stood for too long, enrapt by a phenomenal sunset, we opted for the main dining room.
Some very nice wine, prosecco and beer choices (Wicked Weed’s Pernicious always satisfies) were available, and our very friendly waitress brought ours out quickly. She thoroughly answered any questions we had about the menu — and if you have The PubScout’s favorite item, Shrimp and Grits, on the menu, I’m usually asking questions.
Me: “I’m a Shrimp and Grits Maniac. How good are yours?”
Server: “They are soooooo good! You’re going to love them!
Me; “Sold. Bring ’em on.”
The ladies ordered Mahi-Mahi Tacos, and we also ordered some Dragon Shrimp Tempura with Sriracha as an appetizer, and it was fantastic. The ladies said the same for their tacos.
But “fantastic” wouldn’t suffice for my S&G, which came out with an over-easy egg on top. Chock full of Tasso ham, plump tender shrimp, incredible Gouda Pimento Grits permeated with a wine butter sauce, I’d need at least four words to describe it:
I’ll definitely be back.
Owner/chef Ryan Duffy, who, along with his wife, Camille, opened this place only last March, wasn’t done. The desserts all sounded spectacular, but with two Key Lime Pie experts at my table, we opted for Ryan’s House Made Key Lime Pie. It was beautifully presented, flavorful, tart/sweet and had a perfect, creamy consistency. Four words: They’ll definitely be back.
If you like to go to restaurants for classy decor, understated or overstated dining room elegance with brilliant white tablecloths, scintillating silverware and maître d-type class, don’t come to the Boathouse Landing.
But if you enjoy great food, a comfortable island ambience, great sunsets from the balcony and a homey feel with wonderfully attentive service, the Boathouse Landing could be for you.
It could also be for you if you love Shrimp and Grits.
Or Mahi Mahi Tacos.
Or Dragon Shrimp Tempura.
Or house-made Key Lime Pie.
And if you ever go to the Swizzle Inn in Bermuda (where they know me VERY well), just mention my name.
Then run like hell.
The PubScout — immersed in the craft beer scene since 1996.