Tapas-less and mediocre in MoBay
published: Thursday | January 16, 2003

By Rosemary Parkinson, Freelance Writer

The Snapper Camembert and Shrimp Josephine at Tapas restaurant in Montego Bay. - Photo By Rosemary Parkinson

Tapas Restaurant

Knightwick, Corniche Road, Montego Bay

For reservations: 952-2988/971-1921. Dinner from 6:30 p.m.

EVERY TIME I visit The Jungle Bar at Coral Cliff and spot the sign for Tapas Restaurant, I yearn for those delicious Spanish dishes. Recently, in Montego Bay, a friend and I decided to take in the James Bond movie at Palace Multiplex and with time to kill (no pun intended) I suggested Tapas Restaurant.

Tapas -- the word originated in Spain and meant solid food that covered a wine jar or glass. Tapa means cover and in botillerias (bottle shops) and tabernas (taverns) of olden days, a slice of ham or cheese was served over the jar or glass, stopping insects and other impurities from getting into the wine whilst providing some base food to soak up the alcohol.

It is claimed that this practice began with King Alfonso the 10th, the Wise. During an illness he was forced to take small victuals with wine between meals. Once recovered he declared that all inns in Castile's land should serve wine with food -- this royal intervention succeeded in A: helping the digestion of wine and B: giving the poor man something to eat whilst imbibing.

There is another theory that workers in the fields traditionally took small snacks with wine before their main meal to keep their enthusiasm for the work going. The longer they could work, the later the main meal which once eaten demanded a siesta. Makes sense wouldn't you agree? I've always wondered where the habit of Caribbean people (particularly the men) of falling asleep standing up after a heavy meal came from. From the Spanish, of course. But then, what about those islands where the Spanish have never been? Information by TomTom drums perhaps?

Anyhow, from wherever or whence it came, Tapas Bars or Restaurants are now worldwide and I was certainly looking forward to the experience right here in Jamaica.

WHAT IT SAYS, IS NOT WHAT YOU GET

One should never assume things. One should inform oneself. My father always told me -- informate es tu deber ­ to inform yourself is your duty but I keep forgetting that even in the simplest of things in our islands, we decidedly must. Not because a restaurant is called Tapas or even because it continues to be advertised as a Tapas restaurant should it be expected to serve Tapas. Food for thought -- I could call my Restaurant The Jerk Station but serve no Jerk. Okay, then then.

The menu at Tapas Restaurant showed no sign of any Tapas so I enquired (particularly as the back contains a copy of a Skywritings review and Tapas is certainly mentioned). I was informed by Chef Oliver Magnus' mother, Jean, that Jamaicans seemed not to care for olives and anchovies and other ingredients contained in Tapas, so the Tapas line was discontinued. Righty-ho. I must admit I was offered a plate consisting of some meats Tapas style but without the traditional black olives, capers, and anchovies used in many Tapas. I was disappointed -- a plateful of Tapas is just not Tapas.

As an appetiser I chose Grilled Lamb & Smoked Ox-Tongue Brochette while my companion had Curried Seafood Crepe. My lamb was a bit chewy, the smoked ox-tongue good, the sauce picante and quite delicious. The Seafood Crepe was also good with a mild taste of curry (yes, I did taste a little of everything my friend had).

Next was the Traditional Gazpacho soup (which by the way is also a Tapas) and 'meh friend' El Pumpkin Florentine. My Gazpacho was not fresh. It had obviously been frozen. Chunks of ice played havoc with one of my fillings causing me to ensure that each spoonful was sucked in through one side of my eating aperture, tongued to warmth before savouring and swallowing -- a very attractive act that would have sent a suitor running without paying the bill but, this time (Thank God) I was dining with a female friend. The taste was okay, the colour was decidedly brownish rather than reddish as Gazpacho should be. 'Her' Pumpkin Florentine was very good -- swirls of pumpkin with spinach -- a great combination.

Snapper Camembert was my choice of Entre and 'Miss Melonie' had Shrimp Josephine. I cannot say my dish was not tasty, it was, just to say the least, disappointing. First, I do believe the plate had lain ready for a while before finally reaching me as it appeared microwaved. Does anybody else out there understand 'the microwaved look'? It's definitely not a fashionable look in a good restaurant.

Actually, the whole meal was mediocre. That's the word -- it suddenly hit me as I wrote this that I am actually tired of eating mediocre food. Food that is not bad but is just not excellent. I am completely saturated by mediocre. It is truly tiring. I want to write a review that gives me delight, that sends me into spasms of ecstasy -- please I am right now swimming in mediocre. Pleeease help. Somebody hear my cries. Let us all make the decision to stop offering mediocre food to our undeserving customers 'ah beg ya do'.

Doesn't Snapper Camembert -- grilled filet of snapper with a spicy ranch sauce topped with camembert and roasted almond sound absolutely mind blowing? So why does it arrive at my table looking decidedly flat, tasting okay but lacking in 'oomph'. By the way, there was not a caper in sight on the Jumbo Shrimp ordered by my friend although the menu said "sautéed in garlic olive oil, roasted bell peppers and capers".

Ah Well. Time to calm down. Truly.

I knew one day the plastic chair issue would have meaning. Apparently for the entire night Melonie (a well-built lady) sat putting the pressure of her body on to her knees, having had the experience once before of falling flat on the ground while sitting on a similar chair. When she got up at the end of dinner she looked like a cripple she was so bent over in pain. Again, not a great sight had she been with a possible suitor. Restaurateurs, if you must use plastic, at least ensure that they are of the sturdier, more acceptable type before you get a lawsuit on your hands from a larger than life human who happens to enter your premises for food.

Both our ice-cream desserts arrived 'movingmelting' ­ so much so that the camera's efforts to take a picture left me with blurred images.

Richard our waiter was lovely. The ambience was charming. Maybe the Chef was having a bad hair night.

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