By David Minsky
By Nicole Danna
By Sara Ventiera
By Candace West
By Emily Dabau
By Doug Fairall
By Candace West
By Laine Doss
There's no question that Conley is the best thing to happen to Brussels sprouts since the invention of, well... Brussels sprouts, a proletarian species of cabbage with roughly the same reputation in the vegetable kingdom as a blood-rare hunk of freshly butchered cow. Here he diddles the compact little heads with a vinegary dashi broth gilded with green apple and big chunks of gloriously fatty-flavorful pork belly ($10) for a dish that benefits sprout and pig alike.
Colorado lamb chops "scottadito" (literally, "finger burning") get their heat from a marinade in house-made harissa before being grilled and paired with a chocolaty red-wine demi and dollop of raita, an elaborate preparation that nonetheless seemed both underwhelming and, at $14 a chop, overpriced. So chop the chops and go instead for a black-tie-and-tails take on the numbingly ubiquitous shrimp scampi ($8 each), on Conley's planet a giant, heads-on crustacean as sweet as ocean-going candy swimming in a tart, garlicky sauce you could drink like a martini.
Then there's the burger. In this Year of Our Lord of Giant Hockey Pucks of Designer Beef, there is always a burger. And Buccan's ($14) is a good one: a fat slab of massively savory prime beef, grilled a spot-on medium-rare, laid into a pillowy brioche bun, topped with cheddar cheese and presented with a vial of Thousand Island-ish sauce. And, of course, fries. Not the skinny, glass-brittle Potato Sticks of the Gods but thicker, meatier, laced with sprigs of fresh thyme and dusted with Parmesan.
Desserts, at this point, are brought in from the Sugar Monkey in the manifestly un-Palm Beachy confines of West Palm and, like a perfectly acceptable chocolate tart ($7), are adequate to the task of providing postprandial sustenance for aching sweet teeth. Frankly, we rabble think that food as good as Conley's, a restaurant as good as Buccan, deserves something better, but we're already hauling our commie/socialist/Obama-loving asses back across the Intracoastal.
..dear clumnist...to each their own...why don't you simply stay where you are comfortable..on the other side of the breach, as you say...upscale places indeed tend to be frequented by acheavers not comunists...aka people who like to be fed for free...with acheavers' money at that...
Last time I checked we live and eat in America, we can go anyplace to dine.The author's slant that only notable residents of " The Island " are entitled to frequent these restaurants reflects poorly on his own sense of esteem, indeed you can't take it with you......get out more!