Miami is not your friend.

I was excited to go to Miami. I hear they have excellent sandwiches here, behind this gas station.


Didn't make it there. Nevertheless, I put on my Miami dress and let the sidewalk resty salespeople pitch me as I walked by. They tried to lure me with giant shrimps and lobster tails, but we both know that wasn't going to work. What did catch my interest, however, was the 10-gallon Mojito and the "buy one get one" deal during happy hour. As it turns out, that deal really applies to the small Dixie-cup-sized mojito.

I picked the resty with the nicest outdoor patio - cushions outside are so enticing! - and the best "view," then proceeded to happy hour.




This is what we got. We tasted it: a little frozen pizza, a little Stouffer's Home Delivery, and when someone barfed on the sidewalk next to us, we decided to move on.


Next place - better cushions, in fact, and a "cheese plate." Sounds promising!



Not promising.


Moving on yet again. This time, we thought, "when on spring break...."

But I can affirm, wholeheartedly, that Tequila Chica's is NEVER a good idea.

Finally, I let the iPhone do the walking and found a place highly regarded in another part of town. This area on La Esperansa Way was a pedestrian cobble-stone couple of blocks with some stores, a wine tasting place, and the restaurant I chose.

I should have been worried by the man in the Trojan costume prancing around outside, or the meat-ceiling, but it was, relatively speaking, OK.

What can I say? I'm a sucker for red checkers...

We enjoyed some Chianti, we split a Greek salad (their specialty?), and also the pesto mushroom gnocchi.

And then there were fireworks. No, not from the food; literally, fireworks.


And then we drove back to Boca, where the old Jewish New Yorkers retire and demand only the finest Italian wines and food. My kinda town. (Stay tuned for coming post "If I were an old man....")