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At Palm Beach Garden's Cool'a, packs of 20- and 30-somethings squeeze into wooden booths and perch on stools around the bar, partying to piped-in reggae music under lazily rotating ceiling fans. On flat screens in each of the four corners, surfer movies play on a loop, and the bartender mixes specialty martinis nonstop. Mounted hog snapper, grouper, pompano, and yellowtail swim along walls glittering with thousands of tiny blue scales, and those same fish are on the menu in the form of an excellent fish dip, sweet-potato-crusted grouper, barbecue snapper, fish fingers, and crab cakes, along with wings, calamari, and fillet steak tips. No-frills dining on plastic plates, but the drinks are strong, and the fish is fresh and expertly cooked: You'll sink into this place as into a sun-warmed tide pool.
Come the revolution, our first official act will be to decree a moratorium on ridiculously expensive side dishes. Enough with the ten-dollar truffled cheese fries, the potato skins scattered with a king's ransom in caviar, the double-digit flash-fried escarole, the chanterelles hand-dug from some bois in Bordeaux and flown over to the States. One longs for the day when a side dish was a bit of mashed to go with your chop — it came free with a meal, most often right on the plate with your meat and veg, and if you were lucky it was chock-full of fat and salt. Evidently somebody at Cool'a Fish Bar was suffering a like nostalgia when they came up with the idea of the complimentary cheese potato gratin as a side order with any entrée (the excellent entrées average around $20; other side choices are coconut rice or French fries). A sort of cross between mac 'n' cheese and potatoes Anna, this hot gratin, served in its own tiny casserole, combines shredded potatoes, Colby and Monterey Jack cheese, and a dash of pepper; it makes a lovely, golden crust over its creamy innards. You'll want to ask your waitress for extraction tools — spoons, toothpicks, butter knives, tweezers — to scrape up every crunchy, buttery bit of it.
Come the revolution, our first official act will be to decree a moratorium on ridiculously expensive side dishes. Enough with the ten-dollar truffled cheese fries, the potato skins scattered with a king's ransom in caviar, the double-digit flash-fried escarole, the chanterelles hand-dug from some bois in Bordeaux and flown over to the States. One longs for the day when a side dish was a bit of mashed to go with your chop -- it came free with a meal, most often right on the plate with... More »
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