Travel Blog

A few months ago, a couple we’ve known for a long time invited us and a few friends to dinner at the Biltmore to celebrate their wedding anniversary. It was a lovely evening except for the fact that I failed to order the “thousand-layer lasagna” which a number of people raved about. We made plans with the couple to return sometime, perhaps around the holidays.

So Saturday night, Hania and I drove to Coral Gables. We arrived early and stopped at the Portuguese Bakehouse for four pasteis de nata, Motek for some hummus to go, Bulla for five takeout gazpachos, and finally Graziano’s for some last-minute Christmas presents.

I found a prime parking spot in the hotel lot, and we met our friends in the lobby.

“You know you have to pay for parking now?” Mark said. “It’s $4 an hour.”

I rushed out to my car, which, thankfully, had no ticket, and, after some searching, found a sign on the opposite side with the zone number.

“When did they start charging for parking?” I asked an employee as I returned to the hotel.

“Monday,” he said. “The city owns the lot, and they decided to start charging.”

Making my way to the restaurant, I found everybody sitting by the fountain in the courtyard. It was a gorgeous South Florida evening; looking up, one saw the sky framed by arched terraces and feathered by palm fronds.

The waiter arrived and announced that they were out of lasagna. This was greeted with a loud moan, and the news that we had driven from Fort Lauderdale. I noticed on the menu that the name had changed from “thousand-layer lasagna” to “Biltmore lasagna.” I ordered the spaghetti with clams.

“Do the clams come in shells?” I asked the waiter.

“No,” he said, which was also disappointing.

The spaghetti and unhoused clams arrived in tomato sauce. My third disappointment of the evening. Taking my first bite, I had my fourth disappointment. Hania and Cecile were equally unenamored of their risotto.

The soft trickle of the fountain was soon drowned out by the pounding music of a party in the ballroom. Boom, boom, boom, boom.

But not even that could spoil the pleasure of sitting with friends in an elegant courtyard the week before Christmas. And the gazpacho and hummus made for a delicious Sunday lunch.