A half-dozen fresh, fat and juicy bivalves pulled from the water near Apalachicola, down Florida’s Gulf Coast, arrive on a battered metal platter. Topped with chopped spinach, bacon and Parmesan and served with a cup of melted butter, they’re rich enough for a millionaire and a bargain at $7.99.

Prices tend to be reasonable in Pensacola, which this year is celebrating the 450th anniversary of its founding by Spanish explorers. Famed for miles of white beaches, sport-fishing, the nation’s first Naval Air Station and the precision-flying Blue Angels, the historic city and its barrier-island stretches of sand offer a calmer alternative to more developed, shopping center-packed, high-rise condo beach towns on the stretch of coast in Northwest Florida and Southwest Alabama dubbed the “Redneck Riviera.”

Sometimes hoity-toity customers with motor yachts will drop anchor by Peg Leg’s, says Foster, 46, “and they’ll want a bottle of Dom Perignon Champagne. We don’t have that. We’re a laid-back beach with a small-town atmosphere.”

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