In search of Old Florida, we walk the ice boxes at Kyle’s Seafood to survey the catch and eat smoked mullet on the bed of a pickup. We drink beer and talk about home at a beach bar with local author C.H. Hooks. And we line up for a table at O’Steen’s Restaurant to dunk fried shrimp in a datil pepper sauce that burns bright like a beach sunset. Traveling this 16th century city, we explore the tensions between past and future. The shrimp boats that worked the Atlantic Ocean are mostly gone. Tourists drive the economy. Now, another crop is on the rise. Datil peppers, long associated with Menorcan people, are the next generation symbol of this place.