Postcard :: The Good Stuff {Wish Willy}

Wish Willy was the one place we knew we wanted to eat at before we even left the states. We'd read some rave reviews of the food when we were doing our pre-trip research. So we had put it down on the list - a list of one. It proved not to disappoint.

To say the atmosphere at Wish Willy is relaxed is quite an understatement. Run by owner/cook-extraordinaire Maurice Moore the place is the epitome of "Go Slow". Maurice is a tall guy with a pile of dreadlocks and a big, easy smile. The "menu" written on a chalk board is more of a suggestion of what might be available. But it doesn't really mater what you order - it's guaranteed to be tasty.

Maurice comes to your table, takes your order and then kicks back in a hammock. We sipped rum punch - cheap and good - while waiting for dinner that Maurice was in no hurry to cook. One glass of punch down, Maurice came to let us know the pasta was done so he was going to start cooking now.

Tonight I was going to feast on whole fish. Good thing we came here both nights we spent on Caye Caulker because the first night I was having a hard time deciding between that and the jerk chicken. The first night the jerk chicken won. Tonight when I asked for the whole fish Maurice said, "Sure. It should be here soon." How's that for fresh?!

Maurice brought Lukas his shrimp kebabs and me some pasta while the fish was cooking. Even the pasta with veggies was yummy and just right. Darn, 'cause I gobbled it right up and was starting to fill up when two big fish in a lemon butter sauce finally landed in front of me. Lukas didn't mind at all and totally helped me finish.

Having finished our second glass of punch I got up to pay our host. There really was no rush about the guy. I sat down next to him on a long bench where he was chatting with some friends.

"That all?" Maurice asked after I paid.

"Yeah, well unless you've got something for dessert." Really, this is the kind of place where you can just ask to see what he's got cooking. And I was craving something sweet to finish off the night.

"I do. I've got brownies." Just one look at this guy and you'd understand why my first thought when he said brownies was "special" brownies. But I didn't say anything. Instead I turned to Lukas, "You want a brownie?" "Nah." I hesitated when I told Maurice "I guess no thanks."

"Get the lady a brownie," he said in the direction of one of the guys that worked when he felt like it. "Don't worry, it wont get you high." He must have read my mind.

I laughed. "Oh yeah? They do a lot of that where I grew up." And then before I knew really what was going on Maurice pulled something from his pocket.

"Smell this. This is some good stuff." So me, the girl that grew up in Humboldt but has never so much as smoked one puff on a joint, smelled the Belizian's weed. The good stuff. I had no clue what the proper response should be. My "ohhhhh" got a laugh from the guy across the table. "She's got better in her garden at home. She's not impressed." So maybe my response didn't quite show the right level of appreciation of the great weed. But how was I supposed to know?

Laughing we took the brownie and headed back to our cabana.

{click here for: Postcards #1, #2, #3, #4, #5, #6, and #7}

*Note: I know when we were planning this trip we were hunting down any details we could find. So, if someone doing the same thing happens on this little blog of mine and would like more information and specific details shoot me an email. I may not have the answer, but I can tell you what we did. megan{dot}a{dot}wenger{at}gmail{dot}com