One drawback to being a restaurant
critic (and there aren’t many) is that
I don’t get enough opportunities to
dine at my favorite restaurants. That might
seem like an odd and illogical statement.
But, in the pursuit of the new and the fashionable,
we critics often must bypass the
tried and true—the comfy, worn-pair-of-
Levis-type restaurants that bring consistent
joy to our pusses and our palates.
For me, Café Madrid is one of those restaurants. So, I decided that, come hell or high water, this summer, I would return to Madrid to see how the place is fairing.
Even on a Monday evening, the indoor
dining room is filled and bustling with
energy and high spirits. But on such a
lovely night, we are drawn to the pretty
patio, which is accented with paintings and
metal tables painted by the artist J.C. Pino,
who is also brother of Café Madrid’s owner,
Gabrielle McAfee. He’s planted grapevines,
which are beginning to wind their way
along the walls of the patio and deck.
Always the perfect host, after a warm
welcome, Pino takes us through the featured
nightly specials. On Mondays and
Wednesdays, Café Madrid offers a select
menu of $6 tapas, which on this night
includes fish, spinach and mussel croquettes,
gambas (shrimp) wrapped in
bacon, grilled calamari, seafood “lasagna,”
and others. You can also order a glass
of homemade sangria for $3 or a carafe for
$10. No wonder the place is packed.
We are joined by our friends—a couple
from France—who tell us of their first visit
to Café Madrid. “He’s not just nice to you
because he knows you, and you’re a restaurant
critic,” says Frederick about Pino. “The
first time we came here, he didn’t know us
at all and yet he kept saying, ‘Our home is
your home’ and was really, really warm and
friendly.” It’s nice to know that everyone,
not just a critic, gets the royal treatment
at Madrid. It’s one reason a loyal customer
from California comes to Café Madrid every
single Monday night for dinner. If he’s late,
they’ll keep the restaurant open, knowing
he’ll arrive.
I’ve written before about the cozy, yet
classy ambiance of Café Madrid—classy,
yes, but most of all comfortable. Customers
really do feel like members of the McAfee
and Pino family when they dine here. It’s
not unusual at all to plan on staying for an
hour but lingering for three.
A mass of tapas arrives, and Pino
instructs us to “get messy,” encouraging
the use of fresh rolls for sopping
up all the luscious sauces and mixing
and matching various croquettes with those
accompanying sauces. Small, tender black
mussels in a rich, roasted red pepper and
tomato sauce ($11.50) are superb, and we
follow Pino’s advice, soaking up the extra
savory sauce with the ping-pong-ball-size
fried croquettes and rolls.
Seafood “lasagna” is wonderful: Layers
of tilapia and shrimp snuggled between
sheets of pasta with a light, creamy tomato
sauce comes to the table in the small pan
in which it was baked. One of my longtime
favorite hot tapas at Café Madrid is the plate
of piquillo peppers stuffed with minced
seafood ($12.50); it’s every bit as delicious
as I’d remembered. And, an absolute must
is butifarritas con brevas ($12.50): imported
sausage from Spain bathed in a simultaneously
sweet and tart Black Mission fig
sauce. Pino reminds us to use our bread,
mix and match, and—most importantly—
enjoy. I’ve been advised to “Enjoy!” by a
thousand different restaurant servers in
my day but, coming from J.C. Pino, “enjoy”
sounds natural and authentic. He means it.
With wine flowing—including a gorgeous
bottle of Coma Vella ($72) from
Spain’s Priorat region—we meander our
way through a fresh, spicy Andalusian-style
gazpacho and a light chicken soup (if a soup
brimming with butter and cream can be
called “light”), teaming with fresh veggies,
corn, onion, tarragon, thin noodles and
potato. It’s a wintertime soup that tastes
surprisingly refreshing on the patio in July.
More wine, more food, more warm visits
from Pino and servers like Skyler, and I’m
beginning to feel like we’ve made a mistake:
The entrees we ordered have yet to
arrive, and I’m beginning to feel like Mr.
Creosote, the Monty Python character in
The Meaning of Life who explodes after a
huge meal and a fatal “one thin mint.” But,
I’m a professional, and so I forge on, which
is unexpectedly simple to do when a plate
of medium-rare grilled beef tenderloin
($29) topped with a Spanish bleu cheese—similar to Roquefort cheese—appears in
front of me.
As we pass even more plates around,
enthusiastically sharing the tantalizing flavors
of Café Madrid, I eventually get my lips
around the luscious grilled duck breast ($29),
which is served with a fragrant apple and
honey sauce and grilled asparagus. Stuffed
to Creosote capacity, I still manage to regret
passing up Café Madrid’s osso buco, which
has been braising for more than six hours.
We can barely put a dent into the desserts,
although I put forth my best effort
where Café Madrid’s perfect flan is concerned.
And as we wander, satiated, into
the night, I peek into the restaurant to find
the place empty. We’ve managed to close
it down and, somehow, four hours has
passed seeming like 40 minutes. It’s proof
that time really flies when dining in exceptional
eateries like Café Madrid.
CAFE MADRID
2080 E. 3900 South
801-273-0837
CafeMadrid.net
