The Best Food Bargain in South Florida

When evaluating a restaurant’s cuisine, I consider quality and quantity equally important. As a dining experience, the all-you-can-eat buffet is dear to the small heart that runs the huge stomach of the Gluttonous Gourmet. In addition to filling his astronomical gastronomical needs, it guarantees a profit---for this customer, although not necessarily for the management. To the Gluttonous Gourmet, the Sunday Dinner Buffet at Madras Cafe on Powerline in Pompano Beach ranks as the most gratifying buffet, quantitatively, qualitatively and economically, that he has graced with his all-consuming presence.

On Valentine’s Day, valentines of all ages, shapes and sizes crowded the restaurant, eager to please each other with exquisite exotic food and delightful desserts (not all of them on the menu). The crush of holiday business forced your Gourmet to suffer the indignity of waiting five minutes before the hostess could seat him.

No sooner than she seated him, your reviewer went to the Dosa Station, where he ordered the South Indian specialty, a fried lentil crepe wrapped around mashed potatoes mixed with onions and mild spices. The Masala Dosa should satisfy the neophyte's craving for novel and outstanding flavors. One also finds a variety of condiments for the Dosa, such as coconut chutney and sambar, a vegetable soup that can be consumed as a dish or used as a condiment. As one moves toward the rear of the Cafe, one finds a variety of salads, roasted red and green peppers, and tasty vegetarian dishes for weight-conscious consumers who possess greater will power than your reviewer.

My eyes shifted from the light fare to the back table where the diet-conscious fear to tread and the flavor-conscious hate to leave. From left to right, trays of Basmati Rice, Hot and Spicy Gobhi Manchurian, Paneer Masala, Chicken Biryani and Butter Chicken aroused the roar in the Gluttonous Gourmet's belly. The Gourmet, however, bleated at the thought of eating the Goat dish at the far right, however much others might enjoy its flavor.

After I selected my food trays and carried them to my three tables, which I pressed together to create an adequate eating surface, a thick Indian accent addressed me with uncharacteristic directness:

“Sir, you must not remove the food trays from the buffet table.”

“This is an all you can eat buffet, is it not?

“Yes, sir. But we want our customers to taste a variety of flavors.”

“I assure you, sir, they will. The Chicken Biryani tastes like chicken when it doesn't taste like rice. And the goat dish tastes like whatever goat tastes like. What are your customers, gluttons?”

The waiter gave me a stare of polite incredulity, then turned away.

I plunged into the Gobhi Manchurian, which lived up to its hot and spicy billing. An abundance of chili peppers and onions blended with chicken and cauliflower stung my tongue and popped beads of sweat on my forehead. Although the dish did not have the saucy texture typical of the other dishes, it nevertheless ranks as one of the most flavorful dishes I’ve ever eaten in an Indian restaurant.

Next came the Paneer Masala. Paneer does not conform to one’s customary expectations about cheese. Its texture and flavor resemble fried tofu.Your reviewer found the dish, made in a bed of creamy and mildly spiced tomato sauce, almost as tasteful as Chicken Tikka Masala, one of his personal favorites on the Madras daily menu.

The penultimate dish, Butter Chicken, resembled the Masala, but the generous amount of butter used in place of yogurt sauce enriched its flavor significantly. The dish is one of Madras Cafe’s finest offerings, and no Indian restaurant in South Florida makes it nearly as well.

Last came the dessert. Your Gourmet selected a dozen balls of Gulab Jamun, a staple of Indian desserts, leaving the double chocolate cake (delightful, I was told) and several other highly-praised Indian desserts for the other customers to sample. Few treats in life can round out a meal (or an abdomen) as pleasurably as this dairy product with the texture and appearance of donut holes soaked in honey. What is an Indian dinner without a dozen of these flavorful treats to fill the last square feet of one's abdominal cavity?

I recommend the Madras Cafe’s Sunday Dinner Buffet to anybody interested in tasty cuisine with rich, exotic flavors. For a mere $14.95, you can consume as much of South Florida’s finest Indian cuisine as your stomach will allow and experience tremendous personal growth in areas you normally try to reduce. And you will very likely return to Madras to continue your pursuit of fulfillment.

October 28, 2009

Originally, I had intended to name this blog ”The Gluttonous Gourmet.” Unfortunately,my chosen name has been preempted, I suspect by some aspirant who neither shares my gastronomic philosophy nor my ability to consume food in quantities worthy of our chosen appellation.

Rest assured, there is only one real Gluttonous Gourmet, and I am He. The others, wannabes that they are, could never finish my plate, not to mention the one that comes after it. The only reason I don’t challenge my preemptive namesake to an eating duel at a large table in a favorite restaurant is that I want to savor the taste of my food and the gradual bulging of my body bloating to fullness in and over its chair. You won’t find this Gluttonous Gourmet eating fifty-seven hot dogs in thirty-nine seconds. Even in abundance, food is to be savored when devoured. Why inhale food so quickly that you can’t enjoy its scent? Not only should food be savored, but the act of gluttony, as well.

As a gastronome, I base my (w)holistic approach on the assumption that quality and quantity deserve equal consideration when determining whether a dish is worthy of consumption and a restaurant worthy of a return visit from the Gluttonous Gourmet.

In 1992, the only true Gluttonous Gourmet made his first visit to The Cheesecake Factory, in Coconut Grove. As frequently happens, the waiter expressed strong doubts that yours truly could consume his entire order of Spicy Cashew Chicken and a Bacon Cheeseburger with fries. “You don’t know how big the portions are,” the waiter politely cautioned me through a mustache reminiscent of a 1970s porn star.

“I don’t care how big the portions are, unless they’re too small.”

“If you can eat that order, I’ll give you dessert on the house.”

“You’re on,” I said, feeling the spread of my knowing grin. Those with lesser appetites, proverbially speaking, bite off more than they can chew.

The Cheesecake Factory’s portions were, then as now, noteworthy, and posed a reasonable challenge even for a man of my gargantuan appetites. The Spicy Cashew Chicken, breaded and piled high over a bed of rice that an average-sized person could sleep in, was worthy of inhalation and almost on a par with comparable dishes served in the very best Asian restaurants. The Bacon Cheeseburger ranked among the best and bulkiest this mouth had ever swallowed. The fries, however, were thin, and hard enough to resemble overweight potato sticks. Despite this shortcoming, the Cheesecake Factory had proved itself worthy of many return visits.

“I can’t believe you ate all that,” the waiter said.

“If you want me to make you believe it, you’ll have to pay for the second course, as well as the dessert. May I have your dessert menu?”

Adam's Peanut Butter Cup Fudge Ripple cheesecake was the flavor I chose from a list that made Howard Johnson’s twenty-eight flavors seem paltry by comparison. Its combination of flavors made this reviewer a new devotee of cheesecake, other than the kind found in men’s magazines.

The waiter was so impressed that he brought the manager to my table. "You ate two whole meals and a dessert,” the manager said. I’m impressed.”

“Would you like to bet that I can eat another cheesecake? I asked him, contemplating a free plate of Chocolate Mousse Cheesecake as a worthy second serving.

The manager grinned, turning his face almost bashfully to one side before saying, “I’m more than impressed” and offering me a hand to shake.

I pulled his hand to the emptied plate and tried to place a portion of it on my fork. Before I could get a taste, six waiters dragged me out of the restaurant. “I’M STILL HUNGRY!” I protested as my body rolled down the steps to the street level of CocoWalk.

No doubt they thought my final action was excessive. They failed to realize my madness had a method. Not only did I get the free desert, but through the process of ejection, I got two free meals as well.

I picked myself up off the walk and prepared to visit Coral Gables.