Tarpon Lodge serves up a delicious taste of yesteryear

More often than not, distance becomes an obstacle when considering where to go for dinner. Who wants to drive 30 minutes or more to get to a restaurant, especially when gas is $3.65 cents a gallon?

However, there are rare exceptions when it's not only worth the trip but the journey itself is part of the fun. Tarpon Lodge, tucked away in a scenic little nook in Pineland, is one of those exceptions.

Pine Island Road itself isn't exactly scenic, but at least it's four lanes now so that segment is far less arduous than it once was. (If you're coming from Fort Myers or the more southerly parts of Cape Coral, it's an easy drive along Veterans Parkway to the western end of Pine Island Road.)

Once the road narrows to two lanes, the landscape starts to improve. First there's the charming Matlacha Bridge, where there are always anglers trying their luck. Then comes the sherbet-hued array of funky-chic fishing shacks and cottages, many of which house art galleries and shops decked out with yard art and handmade signs. Next, there are the unspoiled wetlands of Little Pine Island. At the island's main intersection — with its four-way stop sign — you turn right, heading along Stringfellow Road about three miles to tiny Pineland Road, which finally twists and turns into the aptly named Waterfront Drive on which the inn and restaurant stand.

PHOTOS BY KAREN FELDMAN There's no added charge for the glorious sunsets visible nightly from Tarpon Lodge's dining room.

The main structure dates back to 1926 and has been a rustic fishing lodge, a drug rehabilitation center and, after a major renovation by its present owner, Rob Wells, a gracious yet unpretentious inn and restaurant. Surrounded by palms, sea grapes, banana trees and hibiscus, the sprawling white inn is the picture of tranquility. Two brown rabbits who were busily munching on the thick carpet of grass didn't even as we walked within a few feet of them on our way into the restaurant.

The dining room is small and wellappointed, with pale yellow walls, a polished wood floor and a wall of windows overlooking a broad lawn with Pine Island Sound beyond that. If you time your meal correctly, arriving at least 30 minutes before sunset, you'll have a front-row seat for nature's spectacular light show while dining.

  There are just seven tables in the main room, maybe that many in a side dining room and another dozen or so beyond the French doors on a covered patio. So, unless you don't mind waiting, make a reservation.

 

Crab cakes with garlic aioli are among the house specialties at Tarpon Lodge.

The service staff understands that guests have purposely traveled to dine there. The hostess, manager and servers work hard to make sure everyone feels appreciated. In fact, the manager stopped by each table after almost every course to check that everything was satisfactory.

The menu, like the restaurant and inn, is modest in size. Nonetheless, it offers sufficient choice for both seafood devotees and carnivores. Likewise, the wine list won't win any awards for size or depth, but it offers a praiseworthy 17 selections by the glass along with several more selections sold by the bottle only. We sampled the Louis Martini 2003 Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon, which was smooth and mellow, with just a hint of pepper tucked in among the cherry and berry flavors.

This vertically constructed dish consisted of sautéed dis vegetables topped with v mashed potatoes, a large piece of rare tuna and sprouts.

Our bread came with a saucer of olive oil and pat of butter in the center, which is a simple way of catering to differing palates.

We began with two island staples: crab cakes and shrimp. The crab cakes with garlic aioli were golden and crisp. The seasoning wasn't overwhelming, but the crab had been mashed up, rather than left in lumps, which tends to diffuse the delicate flavor of the seafood.

That wasn't the case with the bronzed Gulf shrimp, which were dressed with just a bit of Cajun spice and brown sugar. The five sweet, tender shrimp and the lightly applied seasoning were in perfect balance and really didn't need the dollop of cilantro créme fraiche that accompanied them.

While the appetizers were on the plain side, the entrees were downright showy. The catch of the day was tuna dusted in pepper with a mandarin-ginger-teriyaki sauce with a mix of vegetables beneath it. It came with jasmine rice but the server happily substituted mashed potatoes, which were creamy and rich. They went well with the rare, tender tuna, served in a portion large enough to satisfy two people.

The New York strip was of similar size, cooked to a lovely pink hue and dressed in a morel and portabello reduction that contwitch tained chunks of both types of mushroom. The meat had a good flavor, enhanced by the heavenly aroma and flavor of the mushrooms. This dish, too, went well with the potatoes.

We finished by sharing a satisfying créme brulee, the top of which was thin and just lightly scorched so that it provided a subtle crunch and caramel flavor rather than forming a barrier to the rich custard below.

Although we hadn't planned it, we finished just in time to saunter outdoors, past the same two rabbits, and out to the water's edge just as the sun vanished behind the horizon, leaving a sky colored pink, orange, yellow and purple.

After bidding the bunnies adieu, we reluctantly climbed back in the car and headed whence we'd come, getting a little extra dessert along the way: a hawk sighting on Little Pine Island.

It just wasn't a long enough visit. The next time, we promised each other, we're making a weekend of it.