A Weekend in Rosemary

It’s been pretty hectic at work lately, so we needed a weekend away.  We decided to take our boards to a cute little beach village just 20 miles west called Rosemary Beach.

Developed in the ‘90s, Rosemary was one of the first planned communities in this area of the panhandle.

It’s built around a town square and embraces the concept of a “walkable community.”  So everything – the post office, town hall, shops, and restaurants – are within walking distance from the residences.

The village stays true to its name with rosemary bushes lining the bike-friendly lanes and surrounding the many greens that are used for farmer’s markets, concerts, and weddings.

The craftsman architecture has a beachy twist with crushed shell paths winding through the canopies of old scrub oaks. The upscale homes capitalize on plenty of windows to bring the outdoors in, and there is wood everywhere: wood-trimmed windows, wood flooring, wooden garage doors. It’s certainly not your typical Florida beach town with chintzy rattan furniture and flamingo-themed upholstery.

We rented a carriage house that was a shell’s throw from the gulf, and we could smell the salt air from our front stoop. Once we got settled, we walked our boards down a sweet little path to the gulf.

It was a beautiful afternoon with slow moving waves gliding up to the shore.  It wasn’t a lot of push, but it was enough.  So we surfed until the sun was low in the sky and our empty tummies began to remind us that there were tapas waiting just over the dunes.

After we washed the salt off, we walked to La Crema, a “tapas and chocolate” restaurant (I know, heaven has an address in Rosemary Beach, Florida).

We delighted our pallets with all sorts of treats: serrano-wrapped figs in honey, eggplant with basil and “aged goat cheese,” and lamb lollipops with rosemary (way better than a tootsie pop, for realsies).

The owners of the place decided to open the restaurant after a trip to Spain, and that inspiration has led to a hugely successful business. Not having much exposure to Spanish wine, Ted took this opportunity to introduce me to tempranillo, which is akin to a hearty pinot noir, but with more punch to keep you interested.

We rounded out the experience with a dark and white chocolate fondu that I’d swim back to Rosemary just to have. Strawberries?  Good.  Pound cake?  Good.  Strawberries and pound cake dipped in chocolate?  Gooooood. Thank you Joey Tribbiani.

We took the “long way home” (so, a block or two out of the way), in an effort to walk off our “small plates.”  We walked to one of the boardwalks that goes down to the beach so we could get an idea of what the surf would be like in the morning.

It was gorgeous – seeing the stars out over the dark, expansive sea.  Rosemary is a tiny village with very few street lights, so we could see what seemed like thousands of stars strewn across the sky,  much more visible than what we are used to seeing back home.

We went to sleep that night to the sound of waves rolling up onto the shore, and we dreamt of riding them.  It was a perfect getaway – a weekend at the beach was exactly what we needed.