Appetite

Tom and I first discovered Casa Ybel for ourselves last October when we were charged with the daunting task of finding a suitable location for the two-couple Washington delegation to our annual FGCU-Sanibel Writers Conference. The Econo Lodge wouldn’t do.

As we drove across a small, white bridge to scout the pristine, beachfront property, we knew we had arrived at the perfect solution.

The Washingtonians applauded our choice, in large part because of the Thistle Lodge. Add 23 beachfront acres, 114 flawless one- and two-bedroom suites and zero traces of commercial civilization, and the math is easy enough for English majors like us. Two months after our conference, two of our good friends exchanged vows in the same glorious spot.

Tom and I thought of our friends and visitors as we walked through the lobby of the Thistle Lodge, past the bar and the piano player. We took in the lazy ceiling fans, the wooden architecture and the strains of Sondheim as we were seated at a table for two garnished with a candle, a fresh orchid and a window facing the water.

"These people have a monopoly on luxurious, old Florida-style romance," I whispered to Tom as I took my seat.

Tom pointed out the window and said, "I think those folks would probably agree with you." On the lawns stretching to the beach, a wedding dinner was being held in a large, candle- and flower-bedecked white tent.

The Thistle Lodge was once known as the Wedding House because the structure itself was conceived as a wedding gift. Back in the 1890s, a Sanibel pioneer, the Rev. George Barnes, had it built for his daughter, Georgia, on the occasion of her marriage. Thomas Edison and Henry Ford also used to frequent the lodge, although surely not as newlyweds.

Our first course alone was worth the trip across the causeway. Tom and I began to hum over the creamy lobster bisque with lump crab and cognac foam ($8), a dish both rich and smooth, and not the slightest bit cloying. The chargrilled beef satay with spicy peanut and sweet soy sauces ($11) was cause for equal celebration. "We use the same cut as filet mignon," Sean explained. Four towering stalks of beef made a thatched hut over a roasted red pepper and seaweed salad, while a platform of pineapple served as its foundation. Clearly, someone in the kitchen has an eye for architecture. The beefsteak tomato and mozzarella salad ($9) came with artful square ramekins of basil purée, extra virgin olive oil and balsamic syrup.

For the main event, we chose the seared snapper with braised leeks, onion, jumbo lump crab ragout, baby arugula and tomato ($27), the lobster and lump crabmeat crusted sea scallops ($29), and the 12-ounce prime rib ($33). At Sean’s suggestion, we sipped the A-Z pinot noir and the Adelaida Cellars SLO Label cabernet sauvignon, both $14 glass/$56 bottle. Tom quickly formed an alliance with the pinot, while my palate cooed over the cab.

We had been led to believe that the snapper would take our grand prize, but we both found it a bit dry.

"How’s that snapper?" Sean asked us. We looked at each other.

"We really like the scallops," I answered.

"Wow, I’ve never heard anything but raves about the snapper," he said, looking baffled. Perhaps we had caught the fish on the wrong night.

Our mood was quickly restored by the magnificent Granny Smith apple crisp ($7), a small miracle also well worth the journey over the causeway. Sean and Jo Ann brought us hot water for tea in sleek stainless steel pitchers.

"Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have a couple of these at home?" Tom asked.

"Think they’ll fit in my purse?" I joked.

"I’ll create a diversion," he said.

I wish we were the thieving type, and that my purse could conceal an entire pan of the Thistle Lodge’s apple crisp. But it’s all for the best. Now we’ll have to return soon to the shores of Sanibel Island for another romantic infusion.

The first thing you will notice at Wynn’s, a Naples staple since 1948, is the extensive wine assortment, of which many are inexpensive and exotic. I made a bee-line for an adorable (and quite delicious) half bottle of the Château Mont-Redon Châteauneuf du Pape ($21.99). At that very moment, my cell phone rang.

"Don’t be mad," Tom said.

"I couldn’t be mad at you if I tried," I said. "You’re wonderful, I’m wonderful, the woman who delivers our mail is wonderful, the people who invented wine are wonderful …"

"Did they give you Ecstasy at that spa of yours?" Tom asked. "Look, it doesn’t matter. I’ve invited three people to join us at the beach. I know we’re supposed to do these reviews alone, but is it OK if we break the rules for one night?"

I roused myself from my blessed-out stupor long enough to ascertain that the friends in question were indeed worth breaking rules for.

"Why not?" I said. "I’ll see you all at Clam Pass in just a few minutes!"

I put my cart into turbo drive and grabbed another half bottle of wine, a 2005 Merryvale Starmont chardonnay ($11.99). If we would be entertaining, we would also need a full bottle of 2005 Stags’ Leap sauvignon blanc ($23.99) and a 2005 Trinity Oaks pinot noir ($6.99, on sale from $14.99).

I grabbed two 1.5-liter bottles of Fiji water ($2.39 each) as I flew down an aisle towards the prepared food section. An olive cart caught my eye, and I filled several small containers with assorted green and black, stuffed and unstuffed, along with artichoke hearts and other antipasto ($9.99 per pound). Then, I threw myself on the mercy of the woman behind the counter at Capt. Jerry’s Seafood, which runs a counter inside Wynn’s.

"I’m about to meet four people at Clam Pass for a beach picnic," I began.

"Now you’re just showing off," the woman replied with a broad smile. Her name was Veronica Moran, and she steamed five succulent Maine lobster tails ($9.99 each) for me right on the spot.

"You see what I’m doing here?" she asked as she speared each raw tail with a wooden kebab stick. "This is so they stay straight and don’t curl up on you when they cook."

"That’s fantastic!" I said. "Now, any chance I could get some lemons and melted butter?" She called across to a Wynn’s manager and asked if they melted butter for people. He shook his head.

"Look," I said conspiratorially, "I’m 45 minutes from home. If I pay for some butter, could you microwave it for me? I don’t want to disappoint my guests."

"You got it," Veronica said. "If you grab a couple of lemons from the produce section, I’ll slice them up for you, too."

"What should I get from the deli counter?" I asked. "What’re your favorites?"

"Don’t leave without some pork wings [$6.99 per pound]." Who knew pigs could fly? Before handing them across the counter to me, Veronica wrapped my tails, butter and lemon with the care of a woman about to meet her own friends on the beach.

At the deli counter, Jean Occeus gave me pork wings, chunky chicken salad ($7.99 per pound) and pasta pesto ($5.99 per pound). I then made a mad dash for some fresh berries, pineapple chunks and cantaloupe (all at $4.99 per pound). Lest we get too mired in the healthful, I paused for some Key lime tarts and some of Wynn’s own Heathbar toffee crunch and white chocolate macadamia nut cookies ($4.99 per box).

I found my dining partners on Clam Pass just as the sun nudged the horizon over the Gulf of Mexico. I’d love to tell you that we all (writers that we are) engaged in a lively debate about the issues of the day, but the truth is that we were all too busy savoring the food and wine.

"What’s the verdict?" I asked the assembled crew.

"Phenomenal!" one answered, as the others nodded vigorously. The Châteauneuf du Pape, pork wings, Maine lobster tails and Heathbar toffee crunch cookies were huge crowd favorites, but there really wasn’t a single false note in the meal. Still, you shouldn’t take our word for it. From the Golden Door to the golden market to the golden Gulf, this itinerary is sure to work wonders for you, too.