Still Looping: A local spot that refuses to change (and that’s okay)

The Loop in Fernandina Beach has been around forever — or at least long enough to feel like it. I still remember coming here on a field trip from Paks Karate, sitting at one of the booths, debating with a friend whether we were speaking English or American. Times were simpler when you were 12.

I don’t bring that up to turn this into a childhood memoir. It’s just the only way I can explain how little The Loop has changed. And honestly? That’s kind of the charm.

Walking in feels like stepping back a couple of decades. The whole vibe — it’s exactly how I remember it. In a town that’s constantly shedding its skin, there’s something oddly comforting about a place that never bothered.

But nostalgia only gets you so far. The food still needs to hit.

I went twice — partly out of curiosity, partly because I now work closer to that side of the island. First visit, I ordered a grilled chicken sandwich with blue cheese and sweet potato fries on the side. And a small fennel sausage and goat cheese pizza.

Let’s start with the sandwich: good. Not life-altering, but solid. They go hard on the blue cheese, which I respect, but I did end up scraping some off. Still, good texture, solid flavor.

The sweet potato fries? Not so much. They came dry, underseasoned, and felt like they were missing something — maybe honey, maybe a reason to exist. Even salt didn’t save them.

The pizza, though? Fantastic. Crisp crust, tangy cheese, and the fennel sausage brought just enough edge. I’d go back for this alone.

Round two: I ordered the sweet max pinsa — prosciutto, fontina, black pepper, honey — and a bacon cheddar burger with rosemary chips. A little “European wine bar meets American bar food” moment, and it worked.

The burger is thick and heavy in the best way. You get your money’s worth here — plenty of bacon, good cheddar, juicy patty. I tend to prefer smash burgers, but this was a great example of the thicker style. If you’re hungry, it’ll hit the spot.

Rosemary chips were decent — crispy, a little herby, nothing groundbreaking, but they held their own.

And the sweet max? Excellent. Rich, salty, a touch sweet from the honey — like a cured meat board turned into a pizza. It was pricier than expected, but worth it. One of those things you keep eating even after you swear you’re full.

So here’s the deal: The Loop hasn’t changed. That might be its best quality. It’s not trendy, it’s not reinventing the wheel, but it’s steady. Familiar. And in a town where so many places are trying to out-fusion each other, there’s something refreshing about that.