Travel Blog

On my bike ride Sunday I ran into Javier, the Peruvian writer who doubles as a waiter at Cafe Verdi, the lunch-time restaurant that overlooks the main library in downtown Fort Lauderdale. I hadn't seen Javier in a while, since I no longer go out to lunch. (Don't feel sorry for me; I also no longer go to meetings.)

He told me that he had started tapas evenings every Wednesday. His idea was that young professionals, rather than fighting rush hour traffic, would stop in after work for a glass of wine and a bite to eat. Instead, he said, he gets a group of hipsters, who come around 8 and stay rather late.

Yesterday evening I drove over to Cafe Verdi around six o'clock (well before the hipsters). A few patrons sat inside, while a man with a laptop occupied an outdoor table. The menu, which Javier said changed every week, included bruschetta, tortilla espagnole, antipasto, camarones al ajillo, all-beef meatballs, au gratin gnocchi, and chorizo with peppers. I ordered the chorizo and the tortilla espagnole.

I was about to ask for a glass of wine when Javier showed me the list of beers. These included, among others, Small Craft Uber Pils, American Amber Ale, Flying Dog Old Scratch, and Shipyard Prelude. Javier recommended the latter, which was, as advertised, "a rich, nutty, full-bodied English ale."

The food arrived, on plates more befitting entrees than tapas. The chorizo and peppers were delicious, and accompanied by three slices of toasted ciabatta, so that you could make - as I did - warm and meaty bruschettas. The lightly toasted bread was still soft enough for sopping up the wonderful sauce.

The tortilla espagnole was the best tortilla espagnole I have ever eaten. And I have eaten a lot of them. This took the cold, dry, solid omelet and turned it into a rich, moist, flaky feast. The spuds were sliced like scallop potatoes and shot through with egg and bits of bacon. Every bite was a revelation. Though I couldn't finish it all, and brought one slice home. I'm going to have it for lunch.