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Thursday, March 30, 2006
Mar 30: Comedy by the Sea
 If you can use a laugh, we’ve got some terrific comedy clubs. But for me, some of the best laughs around here come with no cover charge. Just go to the beach. Every time I go, I find something that just really makes me chuckle. And as regular blog readers know, I am going to the beach in Fort Lauderdale frequently these mornings. Perhaps this is why I’m smiling more these days. It’s as if everyone feels free to let loose and express themselves somehow on the sand. I’m not sure if it brings out the kid in us or makes us feel uninhibited or what. But you will see some unusual things.
Yesterday, I watched someone walking as close to the water as she could get. She had a bath towel completely draped over her head, both arms raised straight upwards. She looked like some weird NFL ref calling a touchdown. And as if that wasn’t enough, to cap it all off she was walking backwards. On her toes. Honest! A head towel, two raised arms, tiptoes … backwards. As I sat doing my daily meditation she passed me, which is how I noticed this was an older lady, maybe in her 70s. Apparently this was her unique form of exercise or self-actualization. It got a laugh out of me.
Even the seagulls get into the act. What is it with these birds anyway? I mean, why don’t some gulls like to get their feet wet? I sit there looking out at the sea, thinking my deep thoughts or whatever, and invariably a seagull wanders by and then stops to stare at the waves with me. Then the wave rolls in and the gull often runs away from the water, like a little kid playing in the surf. Or I’ll watch a gull that’s looking in toward shore and the bird will get surprised by some breaker and go hopping and flapping up into the air to escape. Hey, if you don’t like the water, move to the mountains.
It goes on this way. Each visit brings a new comedian of some sort. All doing their comic best for free, all very funny to me at least. There’s humor everywhere, of course, all around us daily. But some places offer more than others. It turns out that the beach is a very good spot to start your day with a laugh. And who can’t use that?
Friday, March 24, 2006
Mar 24: Pub Trawl
 I’ve been on many a pub crawl, but Fort Lauderdale gave us our first “Pub Trawl” experience. We were staying on A1A and heard that there was a Water Taxi system that linked the beach area to downtown and the restaurants along Las Olas. The nearest Water Taxi stop near the beach was at the end of Seville Street, about three blocks from our hotel, so we walked over, and sure enough, in a few minutes a great big green and yellow floating “water bus” came up to the dock and threw out a platform for us to board.
The water bus is about 40 feet long with seats along the side and huge windows that on nice days slide up, making the whole boat open air. We had no schedule for the day and since this water bus was going north, we boarded, paid $10 (which allows unlimited rides all day) and headed up the in-land waterway 40 minutes, all the way to the end of the line at the restaurant Shooters. There are four or five waterside restaurants here so we stopped and had a beer, watching various yachts and boats go by. The water bus comes every half hour in the day time, so a half hour later, we boarded another one and drifted back down the inland waterway. The captain and his mate kept a running commentary of bad jokes and interesting facts, such as the one that Fort Lauderdale has more canals than Venice. It took about an hour and twenty minutes sailing to get to the water stop for the shops and restaurants of Las Olas. Along the way, we passed Leonard Nimoy’s waterside home, Joe Namath’s former house, about 100 huge yachts and dozens and dozens of beautiful mansions.
We had dinner on the grand old porch of the Riverside Hotel, poked in the shops of Las Olas, then re-boarded the water bus (they come every hour after 7 pm) for a ride up the narrow New River to Riverfront. From here, it’s a short walk to all the pubs along 3rd. We had a great pint at the Lord Nelson Pub and walked past almost a dozen bars and restaurants, all with outdoor cafes overflowing with people.
We walked back to the dock and caught the 10 p.m. water bus south (the last boat is at 11 p.m.) and took it for a romantic hour ride down the New River with all the lights of million dollar homes and the city reflecting in the water. We got off at the Beach Place stop, where it’s just a two block walk to Sally O’Briens, where we had one last Guinness and heard a great live Irish band. From there, it was a four block walk back to our hotel on the beach.
For 10 bucks, we’d spent almost four hours on the water bus, visited all parts of the city, had a running tour of every large mansion and yacht on the water (and the who’s who of who owned each house and what they paid for it) and visited four great pubs….all without driving. Not a bad way to spend St. Patrick’s Day.-Rich G.Denver, CO
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Mar 23: Shop 'Til You Drop
In every intern’s life, there comes an important time. I will call it, informally, “interview-palooza.”
My time has arrived.
And any good intern knows in order to be prepared for interview-palooza they need, among other trivial things such as a solid resume, strong work ethic, and superior business skills…a good suit to wear to the main event.
And so my long and agonizing journey for “the perfect suit” began.
Lucky for me, I stumbled upon the sleeping giant of my shopping world, one long forgotten in my years away in shopping-deprived Gainesville…Sawgrass Mills Mall! But of course! The answer to my prayers!
And yet again, my long (but this time not as agonizing) journey began.
For those who haven’t been, let me just warn you: put your running shoes on, people. Not that you’re actually going to be running, (that might look a little weird), but it’s still quite the marathon…the good kind…a shopping marathon!
There are over 350 stores guaranteed to offer virtually anything you need. This place is pretty much a one-stop shop and is so diverse that almost any taste can be satisfied.
Take shoes for example. I’m a big shoe fan, and whaddya know, I needed a new pair to go with my new suit. I must say that Sawgrass is a shoe-fanatic’s heaven, whether it’s Rack Room Shoes, Off Broadway Shoe Warehouse (which I love), or World of Shoes…just to name a few.
As for the suit, I had luck at the department store outlets, such as Last Call Neiman Marcus, Nordstrom Rack, Off 5th Saks Fifth Avenue Outlet, and the list goes on…All chock-full of suits just waiting for me to take them home.
Of course, one gets hungry when they’re walking miles of mall, and there’s a plethora of places to eat as well. The Food Courts have variations of the typical food court stuff for the quick bite, but if you’re really making a day of it (as I did), why not take a breather and sit down to a nice meal at, oh, say, the Grand Lux Café. Or maybe the Rainforest Café, where the sounds of tropical animals beckon you in (always an interesting experience.)
And might I add, while a bit off subject, Sawgrass has stores such as a SuperTarget, Bed, Bath, and Beyond, and Marshalls. In the mall you say? No!
Oh yes. In the mall. It’s wonderful. I wasn’t kidding when I said one-stop shop.
So what may have taken me days and days of repetitive shopping and disappointment at other malls took me only one successful day at Sawgrass Mills. It’s really more like an adventure, or even an event. Leading up to the main event.
Which is where I’m headed, suit pressed and shoes on. Interview-palooza, here I come. Wish me luck!
Monday, March 20, 2006
Mar 20: Take Me Out
It was perfect.
This was Saint Patrick’s Day, a beautiful Friday of sunshine and cool breeze, and my friend and I already had enjoyed an Irish breakfast of eggs, sausage, thick bacon, tomatoes – and of course, an Irish coffee.
But from there, we were off to catch Spring Training at Fort Lauderdale Stadium. This is the pre-season home of the Baltimore Orioles, as it has been now for 11 years. They were playing the Washington Nationals and we were eager for a day away from work, just sipping the grass-scented air and savoring the crack of wood against reinforced leather.
You don’t have to be a baseball fan to enjoy Spring Training, though I am. (A lifelong Detroit Tigers fan, and believe me, it takes real courage to admit that these days!) My friend is no huge sports nut or baseball enthusiast but she loved the afternoon as much as I did. There’s an energy to the players, who can dream about winning a World Series ring. And the fans sit so close to the game’s action that we can hear the pop of the ball landing in a mitt. Spring Training is one of the great bonuses of being in South Florida at this time of year.
This day’s game turned out to be what fans call a laugher. The Orioles were pounding every pitcher the Nationals put out there, banging away with line drives and sacrifice flies and basically just putting the Washington team to shame. But that gave people at the stadium lots to cheer for because most of us went there to pull for Baltimore anyway. Hey, it’s the home team, at least until Opening Day and the games count for real.
So most of us are root, root, rooting for the home team and the Orioles are rounding the bases and guys in the outfield for the Nationals are watching balls go through their legs and this thing is getting funny. There was a large crowd, and it was obvious that a fair number of locals were mixed in among tourists and fans from up north who had come to watch their teams. My friend and I weren’t the only two playing hooky from work this Paddy’s Day, apparently.
Fans are yelling and the ground crews are smoothing out the infield dirt and the uniforms look new and spotless and fathers are explaining the game to their sons and daughters and it just couldn’t get any better than this. Behind us, I heard one impatient boy of about 7 maybe, and after the second inning he told Dad he’d had about enough baseball for the day, thank you. “Can we go home now?” he asked. To which Dad replied, gently but without hesitation, “Now? You’ve gotta be kidding! When you see the number 9 flash on the scoreboard for the inning, then we can go.” And the father added the real reason he wanted to stay for the duration of this lopsided game. “Daddy’s in heaven!” he said.
Weren’t we all?
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Mar 16: Butterflies, Birds and Bugs - Part Two
I’ve learned that at Butterfly World you tend to hear certain phrases over and over and over. “Oh, LOOK!” and “There’s another one!” and “Wowwwwww!” So after pointing and wowing our way through the butterflies and small birds, we finally found the lorikeets, lories and … the bugs! They were just as wow-worthy.
You enter a giant birdcage and there you are – standing among the very mischievous big birds of Butterfly World. This is definitely the comedy portion of your visit. Lorikeets and lories are extraordinarily colorful and playful. Butterfly World itself calls them “the breathtakingly beautiful clowns of the parrot world.” One of them swooped over, plunked down on my friend’s purse and tried hard to beak its way through the contents.
Other birds squawked and flapped through lorikeet-wrestling matches that looked serious but were only very rough play, or so the cagekeeper assured us. Two of the birds actually rolled themselves into a ball and flung each other around the ground in some bizarre romp. No harm done … both emerged unscathed and I guess they thought it was all in good fun. I only know that it’s very funny to watch. They seem to love people too and don’t mind sitting on your shoulder or hand – especially if you have a bit of food to offer.
Next door to the Lorikeet Encounter, as it’s officially named, is something new at Butterfly World. The museum and insectarium. We just called that “looking at the bugs.”
It is amazing, though, no kidding. It begins with dozens of insects, moths and butterflies mounted for display, critters from all over the world. You’ll be glad some of these monster beetles live in Africa or wherever. An insect six-inches across with horns and distinct bug-chompers is not something you want to find crawling on your patio in the morning.
But the best and, yes, creepiest part of that exhibit is the live area. This is one time you won’t mind the glass cases. Because under all this heavy glass is some truly weird and spooky stuff. Like several varieties of tarantula. These include the rose hair tarantula, which can shoot abdomen hairs that stick and sting you. And there are the scorpions such as the emperor scorpion that kills small mice for supper. And there’s even a Vietnamese centipede, with a bite that can take out humans. See, I told you that you’d be glad for that glass …
Outside again, we walked across the Tinalandia Suspension Bridge, a replica of a hanging bridge found in a tropical rain forest. There were more birds, more gardens. There was a peaceful small lake. And tranquility seemed everywhere around too, outside just as it was earlier within the Tropical Rain Forest and the aviary.
Of course my friend and I eventually had to leave this blissful place, as we all do. Escape is good sometimes, leaving behind the daily grind to enjoy a different, more gentle side of our world. Butterfly World offers us that sanctuary. I, for one, am very glad it’s there.
Monday, March 13, 2006
Mar 13: Spring Break Lost...and Found
This week is a sad, sad week for me.
For the first time in my life…which is a cue that now I actually have a semblance of a real one…I don’t get a Spring Break. Oh sure, the University of Florida comrades I left behind are now undoubtedly somewhere near the likes of the Bahamas, Cancun, Jamaica, even Vail or Tahoe…far, far from this cubicle from which I write.
Not that I’m bitter or anything.
Sad as it is that I won’t be able to enjoy my own tropical getaway, it could be worse. In my forced optimism, I look at it this way: It’s not like I live in the middle of nowhere and Spring Break is my only hope for escape. I live in Fort Lauderdale, for crying out loud! What’s that saying people in places like this always use? Oh yeah…"I live where you vacation."
So rather than seeking out Spring Break this year, Spring Break is coming to me. And not in the “crazy kids running amuck” kind of way…more like a “people here to have a good time and experience something new” kind of way.
To be honest, from my own experience undergrads in Florida want to get out of Florida for Spring Break anyway. That combined with the ever-growing and quite insatiable desire to explore any and all uncharted territory drives us college kids to go as unique and exotic as our (or Mom and Dad’s) wallets allow.
As for the high school set, I imagine the scenario is the same on a smaller scale. They want to get away, and in this case may be limited to Florida. But that doesn’t mean Daytona or the Keys are out of the question.
My point is, to concur with my blogging buddy below, the amount of Spring Break coeds milling the streets has experienced a dramatic drop in number. Sure, they’re here, and I don’t blame them. Just not in the droves of years past.
So in the place of the Florida natives I’ve seen my share of Ohio, Michigan, and Pennsylvania plates coasting up and down AIA and Las Olas Boulevard in the past week or so. But I find it fun. It’s a nice, slightly self-indulgent feeling to be able to meet some of the out-of-staters and when they ask where you’re from answer simply, “Here.” Especially for this almost-graduate, whose feelings of loss over a once-coveted week of abandon are still fresh.
If I can’t have a week off to party and gallivant up and down the beach, at least I’m in a place where people who can come to do just that. Being surrounded by so much vitality makes it a little easier to deal with the sadness of Spring Break lost.
That and being able to smugly say, “I live where you vacation.”
Mar 13: Spring Break, Broken
I received an interesting question about Spring Break in Fort Lauderdale from a blog reader recently and I feel it’s something that deserves a good answer.
He wrote: “When I booked my vacation I did not realize that most high schools are out on spring break during that week. Does the beach/city get crowded with teens that week and does the city manage the crowds pretty well. I am a 30 yo and don't really want to be stranded with a bunch of teens.”
Dear Blog Reader:
Relax and come to Fort Lauderdale. The city hasn’t been overrun with teens for a long time. Here are the facts: The high point for the traditional “Spring Break” was more than two decades ago, in 1985, when 350,000 students boozed it up along A1A. Last year, just 15,000 young partiers showed over a several week period and about 10,000 are expected in 2006.
Are there more younger folks than usual around town during the time you’ll be here? Sure, you’ll see them. Do they crowd the city and take over? Hardly! When they’re mixed in among the many thousands of regular tourists, they barely cause a ripple. The bars that attract the remaining spring breakers probably aren’t the places you’d want to go anyway.
Fort Lauderdale still offers the same great weather and same great beaches but has turned too upscale for most spring breakers. If you’ve budgeted enough for two hamburgers and 12 beers per day and you need to squeeze five students into a hotel room, you should find some other beachy spot to go. Fort Lauderdale is the wrong place for you.
Let me tell you what I see and hear around town these days. A lot of European accents and languages, for one thing, as people from Germany, France, Scandinavia and elsewhere look for a sunny escape from their winter. I run into people from the Northeast and Midwest too, from New York and Chicago, New Hampshire and Michigan, wherever – and they have money to spend in our sunshine as well.
Hotels, restaurants, bars, spas, all of them are going one way. Up. The trend is distinctly toward the high-end and the sophisticated. I’ve lived here for 17 years and when I arrived in town the choices for food, beverage and entertainment were limited and pretty funky. Today, I can’t even begin to try all the new interesting establishments. If you’re looking to mingle with the spring break set, I’d suggest Panama City or Daytona Beach. But if you want to see a world-class art exhibition, eat a fabulous meal of red snapper and jasmine rice, sip a glass of single-malt scotch while listening to classic jazz, then Fort Lauderdale and its neighbors have a lot to offer you, this or any time of year. That’s why I have stayed here so long.
What I’m trying to say is that the Fort Lauderdale area has grown up since the 1960 Connie Francis film, “Where the Boys Are,” which burned the spring break image into America’s head. Those days are gone. There aren’t many $1 burgers or motels allowing that five-to-a-bed thing. But that’s ok. It may cost more now – but it’s worth every penny. So come on down.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Mar 12: Butterflies, Birds and Bugs - Part One
It is a different world here. And sometimes, a different world is just what we need.
We fight our daily battles with bosses, spouses, children. We contend with angry commuters and angry colleagues. We wrestle with our personal problems and financial worries and frustrations of all kinds. So yes, sometimes we need to escape to someplace else, to a different world, a gentle oasis far away from it all.
Perhaps a place of butterflies and birds. And even bugs.
Butterfly World in Coconut Creek is a magical experience. Walk in the doors and you are soothed by soft New Age and classical music. Tropical gardens and waterfalls and thousands of flowers of many varieties surround you. You pass through cooling mists of water and stroll by ponds teeming with koi fish.
Butterfly World offers so much, in fact, that I’ll need to break my visit this week into two stories to do it any justice at all. Today, butterflies and small birds.
My friend and I entered the area called the Tropical Rain Forest at about 10 a.m. The butterflies are at their busy best in the morning, especially if the sun is out. The amazing thing is that you really walk among the butterflies, which float and flit and play together all around you. No cases, no cages. This isn’t a zoo. Or maybe it really is in some way – the equivalent of walking around within the zoo exhibits rather than watching them from a distance. You’re a participant here, not an observer.
Thousands of utterly beautiful butterflies are everywhere: in the trees, on the walkway, on the rocks. Sometimes, they even land on you. Mostly, they fly.
I watched two all-white butterflies as they fluttered over and under each other in some playful dance, each of them delicate as lace but large, perhaps five inches across. One moment, they seemed like pieces of paper caught in a wind, tumbling up and down. The next moment, they appeared supernaturally pure and lovely, as if angels.
This is the sort of escape Butterfly World offers and both of us were charmed, spending maybe an hour with the butterflies. Finally we moved on to the aviaries full of small birds, the finches and hummingbirds and honeycreepers and euphonias.
Again, you walk through the doors into the aviary and you ARE the exhibit. The birds dart and hover all around you or rest perched in branches just inches from your head. You can feel the breeze when they fly close to you, actually hear the beating of their wings, the hummingbirds furiously dashing from one feeder to the next.
The soft music remains in the background during all of this and you can still hear the waterfalls and see the butterflies floating near other visitors not far away. And may you find yourself wondering why the rest of the world can’t be a bit more like this place. Wouldn’t it be nice …
Butterfly World is located at 3600 W. Sample Road. Call 954-977-4434 for information or visit www.butterflyworld.com.
On Tuesday, Part Two of my visit: the large birds and the new fascinating collection of bugs!
Friday, March 10, 2006
Mar 10: Gettin' Ugly
I write this in honor of the fact that…IT’S FRIDAY!!
So I managed to make it out on the town this past weekend. Yes, that’s right, I braved the throngs of people that crowd Himmarshee and decided to go somewhere I had not yet been before: Coyote Ugly.
Ok, let me stop you right here. I know you’re probably thinking…how cliché. The youngster out of the University of Florida is talking about going out to the bars, clubs, yada yada. But let me just say in my defense that while this scene may not be for everybody, I know there are some of you out there who want to read on.
So onward we go…
Now, some of you may be familiar with the movie Coyote Ugly. For those of you who are, this place is pretty much like it, minus Piper Perabo. For those who aren’t, the scenario is pretty simple. And I can imagine that the average guy would be pretty pleased with the mental picture. So here’s the quick rundown: it’s a saloon atmosphere where an all-girl bartender crew dances on the bar (sometimes with synchronized moves), ear-shattering, bar-friendly music blares over the speakers, and drinks flow with ease.
As a female, however, I was skeptical. But really, if you’re easygoing and like to have a good time, you’ll have a good time. Maybe not up to par with the fellas, but fun nonetheless.
I will say this: the atmosphere is unique from other bars and that’s always an important selling factor. And the fact that you see it in a movie and then in your hometown is kind of cool, too. With other establishments in only a handful of cities including New York, Las Vegas, and Chicago, it’s nice to be able to say it’s also here in our backyard.
If nothing else, it’s at least worth checking out. With tons of alternatives lining the streets, it’s no harm, no foul if this place doesn’t tickle your fancy. You can always mosey (or stumble) on over to the next watering hole. But that’s what makes Fort Lauderdale so great, right? Variety, variety, variety…always plenty of places, not only Coyote Ugly, that give you the opportunity to…you guessed it…get ugly.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Mar 7: A Sparkling Face
I may not get away from my home office enough yet, but when I do get on the town in Fort Lauderdale, I can’t help noticing one thing over and over. How clean it is! That may sound funny coming from a local and I suppose most of us don’t even pay attention. It’s just the way things look most of the time. But everywhere that’s anywhere I want to go in this city, that spot is essentially … spotless.
I don’t know about you but cleanliness makes a big difference to me, as a resident of course but also whenever I leave this area to visit some other city. On my most recent trip to London, for example, I was stunned to see people just openly litter again and again. Debris was all over the place, whether in Kensington or Piccadilly. (Sorry, London … not trying to, uhm, trash you!)
Here at home, when I go to the beach for one of my morning exercise-meditation sessions, I find myself thinking, “Amazing how there’s basically no trash … and other stuff around!” By the time I get there, which is pretty early, the job is mostly done. Free of trash.
The brick walkway is clean. A1A is clean. The sand is clean. Thus, the Blue Wave designation from the Clean Beaches Council. One morning as I jogged along the seashore, I finally saw a street cleaner vehicle go scraping and spitting past me. “Ah-ha! Finally saw one!” I thought. Obviously they’re usually out even earlier than I am.
Downtown Las Olas is the same as the beach. Walk by the cafes and art galleries and shops and clubs and what do you see? Cafes and art galleries and shops and clubs – you see what you’re supposed to see because you’re not dodging piles of litter. Of course, anywhere on earth, there’s always some knucklehead who will toss a paper cup and miss the trash can. Or some pile of napkins gets caught in a breeze and blows off.
Fort Lauderdale manages unusual neatness somehow in its own way. And I’m really not quite sure how they do it. I just know that I appreciate it and I’m sure the other locals and tourists must feel the same. The city’s face sparkles and smiles, appropriate for a community that is hosting a pretty important royal for a few months. Tut himself, I suspect, would approve.
Monday, March 06, 2006
Mar 6: Book Review
BOOK REVIEW: A Killing Night Jonathon King, Dutton, New York, 2005
Vince Lombardi used to preach that the key to winning was not your strategy or your game plan, but execution. If your tackles tackled, your blockers blocked and your runners ran, most often you would win. The opposition knew Lombardi’s game plan: off-tackle, off-tackle, pass to the tight end, with just enough long passes to keep the defense off balance, but when his Packers were executing properly, it didn’t matter, you couldn’t stop them even though you knew what they were going to do. Vince Lombardi would love Jonathon King.
Steeped in the noir tradition of dimly lit bars, disillusioned ex-cops, and obsessive serial killers, King’s plots are bread-and-butter fare, but he executes brilliantly and comes up a real winner.
A Killing Night features Max Freeman, the disillusioned ex-cop who has exiled himself to the Everglades west of Fort Lauderdale, who was the protagonist of The Blue Edge of Midnight, which won King an Edgar award (the mystery writers’ equivalent of an Oscar) for best first novel of 2003. In Killing, Freeman is persuaded by an ex-girl friend, a police detective, to help track down a suspected serial killer who might have been on the Philadelphia police force with Max. King cuts cinematically between Freeman and the mind of the killer, moving the reader along their parallel paths until the dramatic conclusion. Familiar Fort Lauderdale locales are visited: Lester’s, Kim’s Alley Bar, and Holiday Park, as well as the Everglades, adding to the gritty feel of the book. Locations in Philadelphia are also described with what I assume is equal authenticity. (King was a reporter for the Philadelphia Daily News and the South Florida Sun-Sentinel.) Assisted when needed by a deus ex machina wealthy black lawyer friend (who stutters), Max Freeman and Detective Sherry Richards stalk the killer as he stalks another young women. The plot has some clever twists and keeps you turning the pages even as you know the specific villain will be tackled in the end, while leaving enough personal issues unresolved to make sure you will pick up the next Max Freeman novel with interest. (I will.)
The noir style, particularly when it is so deftly employed as in A Killing Night, enables secure, conventional folks like you and me to enter into a world of menace, bad habits, and bad smells without risk. Like a roller coaster ride, it gives us a frisson of fear without facing any real danger. Like the dimly lit black and white B movies which gave it its name, this genre of mystery novels allows us to see another side of our urban environment, one which is quite close to us physically, but some distance emotionally. Luckily, we have real cops to keep most of these menaces away from us, (although the wife of a friend did have a close encounter with Ted Bundy one day in Tallahassee some years ago.) It is enough for most of us to have these experiences vicariously through the talent and effort of writers like Jonathon King.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
Mar 2: Mai, oh, Mai
I have no idea how many times I’ve enjoyed the Mai-Kai. Too many to count, dating back over most of the nearly 17 years I’ve lived here. The Mai-Kai is a place to feel far from home, as removed from daily cares as if on a Polynesian island.
Last night, I returned again. And I’m very glad to tell you that the experience offered the same delightful tranquilizing effect as ever. Whether it’s for a rum cocktail and appetizer or dinner and a show, or all of the above, the Mai-Kai is a dependably enjoyable escape from daily routine. And it’s just plain fun.
We arrived shortly after 6:30 for drinks along with an appetizer of chicken wrapped in bacon, served with three sauces, including a Chinese mustard sauce that will clear anyone’s sinuses instantly! I started my cocktail sipping with a Zombie, which earns its name in sheer power, believe me. My date had a less potent Hidden Pearl. We tasted each other’s drinks, of course, and somehow the time until our 8 p.m. dinner seating passed quickly. Can’t imagine why.
For dinner, we started by sharing more cocktails. And two more appetizers: Nams, which are crabmeat and pork rolls that you then wrap in leaves of lettuce and mint for dipping, and also a warm spinach salad. The rolls were very good, the salad was fabulous. For our main courses, mahi-mahi for me, duck for her, followed by key lime pie and macadamia nut ice cream. All of the food was delicious. Just before the show, we each ordered a Kona Coffee Grog – to me, a “must” when dining at the Mai-Kai. Prepared at your table, the flaming drink is mixed in a way that makes it a show all in itself.
But of course the Mai-Kai is best known for its Islanders Revue dancers, who have entertained visitors and locals, famous people and everyday people alike for almost 50 years now. The Polynesian music is authentic, and so are the musicians, from islands such as Samoa and Tahiti. Last night, some of the dancers entered the stage from the audience, dressed in the elaborate costumes the Mai-Kai creates from materials such as the bark of breadfruit trees, mother of pearl and abalone shells.
The athletic dancers always impress. Whether during the fire knife dance, the Tahitian Wedding dance or any of the other numbers, the choreography by Mai-Kai owner Mireille Thornton is both traditional and exciting.
To me, the Mai-Kai brings back that Polynesian feeling in a way that nothing else does, short of flying to Honolulu. The huge restaurant, Molokai Bar, gardens and gift shop sit on Federal Highway, just north of Oakland Park Boulevard. But once you’re inside, you may as well be in Maui. For reservations, call 954-563-3272.
And to really get you in the mood for your own Polynesian experience, why not sample one of the Molokai Bar’s tropical drinks at home – recipe courtesy of the Mai-Kai. Enjoy!
Shark Bite
1/2 oz. fresh squeezed lime juice
½ oz. simple syrup or ½ teaspoon sugar
1 ½ oz. fine aged dark rum
Fill a drink mixer with ½ cup crushed ice, add lime juice, simple syrup and 1 oz. rum. Mix well. Pour into chilled glass and top with ½ oz. rum as floater.
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