Education of the Modern Doctor: Marcus Welby vs. House 
Ocean Beach’s Fourth of July post-fireworks marshmallow fight started even before the pyrotechnics had ended, the little white pastries zipping by like giant snowflakes against the cavalcade of color that marks summer’s hold on the region. One burly cop couldn’t resist the infectiousness, inviting a visitor into the realm of the unthinkable. “If you wanna throw a couple at him,” he said, motioning to his partner, “I’ll look the other way.” In an instant, the neighborhood was in rare form, with a police officer’s toothy, sugar-coated grin to show for it.
Me, I couldn’t even stand to look at the goddamn things, not after my experience at nearby South Beach Bar & Grille only hours before. South Beach, of course, is known all over the place for its phenomenal appetizers and to-die-for martinis—but something about the sandwiches resonates in a way that threatens never to leave. My God, I’m still full from my delicious bacon and fried oyster sammie on a bun ($10.95), which comes with a side of fries and coleslaw the size of a bag of marshmallows. Washing it down is no easy task amid the choice of shots, although I eventually opted for the Oatmeal Cookie (featuring Bailey’s and butterscotch schnapps) in deference to my ubiquitous, lethal sweet tooth. Big mistake. I was practically welded to my seat from then on, waddling out only at the prospect of the evening’s festivities.
The point is that if you’re ravenously hungry (as I was), South Beach has lots of scrumptious ways to take care of ya. The trade-off: You have to get yourself to 5059 Newport Ave. between 11 a.m. and 1 a.m. Sundays through Thursdays and 11 a.m. and 2 a.m. Fridays and Saturdays to effect the cure (phone is 619-226-4577). Meanwhile, it was kinda fun seeing a cop get hit with a marshmallow, especially a good sport like that guy—even if I still feel like one.
Me, I couldn’t even stand to look at the goddamn things, not after my experience at nearby South Beach Bar & Grille only hours before. South Beach, of course, is known all over the place for its phenomenal appetizers and to-die-for martinis—but something about the sandwiches resonates in a way that threatens never to leave. My God, I’m still full from my delicious bacon and fried oyster sammie on a bun ($10.95), which comes with a side of fries and coleslaw the size of a bag of marshmallows. Washing it down is no easy task amid the choice of shots, although I eventually opted for the Oatmeal Cookie (featuring Bailey’s and butterscotch schnapps) in deference to my ubiquitous, lethal sweet tooth. Big mistake. I was practically welded to my seat from then on, waddling out only at the prospect of the evening’s festivities.
The point is that if you’re ravenously hungry (as I was), South Beach has lots of scrumptious ways to take care of ya. The trade-off: You have to get yourself to 5059 Newport Ave. between 11 a.m. and 1 a.m. Sundays through Thursdays and 11 a.m. and 2 a.m. Fridays and Saturdays to effect the cure (phone is 619-226-4577). Meanwhile, it was kinda fun seeing a cop get hit with a marshmallow, especially a good sport like that guy—even if I still feel like one.
