Historically known primarily to boaters, fishing enthusiasts, Chevron employees, and Burning Man artists, Point San Pablo Harbor has recently been discovered by a new breed of visitor: weekend foodies. That’s because Sailing Goat, the latest restaurant to take over this challenging location perched at the western tip of Contra Costa, builds on the destination’s inherent charm with an authentic commitment to seasonal, chef-driven cuisine.

I’ll admit, I was a little worried when Chez Panisse alum Arnon Oren, who operates fine-dining catering company Anaviv’s Table nearby, assumed operations from previous tenant Black Star Pirate BBQ. While Black Star’s menu never quite lived up to the atmosphere, its approach was easy and accessible for the families and adventurous day-trippers who tended to seek out the isolated locale. (Take the last exit off Interstate 580 before the Richmond–San Rafael Bridge, and trust your GPS as you wind north up the coastline about 10 miles.) Would a high-minded Cali-cuisine approach really work? Was it necessary?

Fortunately, Oren seems to have brought in the right man for the job in head chef Ross Kaplan, who expertly executes a tight menu that’s fresh and delicious—without veering into stuffiness. The menu is divided into around three starters, salads, stews, pizzas, and entrées and neatly balanced between seafood, meat, and veggie options. (There’s also a nicely curated list of mostly California beers and affordable wines.) The fish and chips looked to be the most popular dish, and with good reason—it’s as good a version as I’ve had in the East Bay. Tender gluten-free-beer-battered white fish is deep-fried to golden perfection with an extracrispy, delicate, spiderweb-like crust that reminded me of the fried taro puffs common in Chinese dim sum. It’s served with killer fries and a delish tartar sauce bursting with chopped dill, pickles, and capers that had me dipping in my pizza crust long after we polished off the fish.

Speaking of which, the pizza is also very good. Baked in an adjacent outdoor wood-fire oven, its chewy char-flecked crust will appeal to kids and adults alike. The margherita is an easy winner, but Kaplan experiments and rotates his other two selections, with one generally highlighting meat (carnitas with queso fresco on one visit) and the other veggies. Those veggies were put to wonderful use in a hearty summer vegetable salad as well, a delightful play of tastes and textures that mixed vinaigrette-dressed pan-roasted zucchini and eggplant, beans, olives, and more with a refreshing smear of whipped feta along one side of the plate.

I particularly liked Sailing Goat’s varied use of seafood. Emphasizing the ocean’s bounty was a natural approach, but Kaplan is creative and global in how he employs it. Salt cod, when available, is a must-have among the appetizers, and on our visit it was embedded inside delectable fried fritters served with zesty lemon aioli. The stews, meanwhile, are listed as “potjie pots” and inspired by the South African three-legged metal cauldrons that serve to create campfire catch-all stews for whatever meat or vegetables happen to be on hand. The concept lends spontaneity to Sailing Goat’s menu and allows Kaplan the flexibility to offer anything from a classic seafood chowder to a Brazilian moqueca to the Spanish-inspired zarzuela available on our visit. Peppery, nutty, smoky, and packed with shrimp, white fish, clams, and chorizo, the tomato-based soup was an unexpected hit at our table.

For Kaplan, this culinary freedom serves to keep him engaged as a chef, while also vibing with the restaurant’s off-the-grid venue. The East Coast native was fresh off a four-month cross-country solo camping tour when Oren first brought him to see what would become Sailing Goat.

“My first impression was very similar to what I’d been experiencing on my road trip, going to these far-out places with no cell service, just off the beaten path,” he told me. “Being out here [seemed like] a continuation of that trip. It’s a very special place; I knew that.”

He’s right about that. Driving down into the harbor, the first thing you’ll see is a goat pen and community vegetable garden, with a backdrop of oversize Burning Man–style sculptures: a towering gramophone, for example, and an enormous alligator covered with aqua-blue ceramic tiles (and, likely, screaming kids). Park, order at the entrance, and you’ll wait for your food on the covered back patio overlooking a harbor filled with seafaring vessels and a dozen or so permanent houseboats of all shapes, sizes, and colors. There is often live music, too, with musicians—bluegrass, country, Brazilian, jazz—booked nearly every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday when the restaurant is open.

For his part, Kaplan is ever-mindful of providing thoughtful but simple food that complements—without distracting from—the setting’s natural charm.

“I wanted this to be an environment where people feel welcome, a space to have a reprieve,” he says. “You can put the phone down and enjoy some good music, nice food, and feel comfortable.” sailinggoatrestaurant.com.