The broiler sizzled as the fresh mahi mahi was gently placed upon the fire. “Start the salmon and plate the pork chop prime rib,” yelled Alex, the Chef of Café Figaro. The front of the house was packed as usual. Nick, the rapt young buck handling the front of the house, was attending to the patrons’ satisfaction. Some of the older women, probably longing for days gone by, flirted with Nick. But he knew it was just their fun game. To the dismay of many ladies, Nick had eyes focused elsewhere. Madeline was a much younger European lady, fluent in the same languages as the strapping mnan yobek.
The Mahi, Mahi with mango chutney arrived. I could not wait to dive in. Our other plate was the salmon. A third we had tried, in a prior visit, was the pork prime rib. Perfectly done fresh fish means not even a hint of a fish smell but moist. They nailed it with these two dishes. I have always shied away from ordering fish, in any restaurant, if I can smell even the slightest indication. From my fishing days as a child, fish never smell “fishy” when they were first caught, in other words, when they are fresh. So to this day, I judge seafood freshness based upon that childhood olfactory memory. It has not failed me yet.
Nick came back, joked with us and made us feel at home. He commented on the cleanliness of our area, witnessing first hand our last debris field performance. But in this particular case, the palate satisfaction was so great, not even the debris field could be saved.
In much the same way as Figaro, that crafty Barber of Seville matched perfectly the Count with his bride, Café Figaro has blended exquisite cuisines of American and Mediterranean influences, with affordable pricing and a quaint atmosphere.
As for Nick, he is still fending off the ladies…for now.