Shauna Curphey - Writing

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Lunch With the Natives

Meridian, March 1, 2001

By Shauna Curphey

As a teenager in Florida, I whizzed past the Lone Cabbage Fish Camp hundreds of times on trips from my home in neighboring Melbourne to the larger excitements of Orlando. The camp (a restaurant, really) slouches among the palm trees and reeds that line the St. Johns River where it meets Highway 520, 40 miles southeast of Orlando.

On a recent visit home, I pulled off to explore what lies behind its familiar low-slung façade. I moseyed in, checked out the souvenir beer cozies for sale behind the bar and grabbed a booth with a river view. Fishermen, boaters and road-weary families packed the restaurant.

For 100 years, central Floridians have flocked to this river institution to scarf down indigenous treats such as gator tail, fried frog legs and turtle. Boaters on the St. Johns pull up to the restaurant’s dock to swap fish stories and buy worms and shiners from the bait shop out back. The camp’s fishing pier lures anglers hoping to hook a prize perch or bass. Two Sundays a month, at the Lone Cabbage fish fry, regulars two-step to live country music, then order seconds.

Rick Powers, an airboat captain who runs tours from the camp explains its uncomplicated draw: “It’s just great food and good fishing.”

The Lone Cabbage reminded me of what I like best about inland Florida: It’s delicious without pretension. Next time I head up 520, I’ll stop in for a local-flavor fix.