Cafe Thirty-A: Still Here, for Good Reason 3899 E. Scenic Highway 30-A Seagrove Beach (850) 231-2166 Hours: Open daily at 6 p.m. Reservations: Suggested Children's menu: Will accommodate Dress: Casual Food Service Atmosphere Overall

By Bruce Collier
April 30, 2009 Issue

We ate at Thirty-A on a weeknight, and it was doing a respectable business, with both large and small tables of diners. Though many appeared to be from other states (I eavesdrop, in a tasteful and unobtrusive way), they were regular customers, glad to "be back." The staff greeted them with hugs and sincere warmth.

The interior of Cafe Thirty-A is decorated in pastels, with framed artwork and half-wall partitions creating dining areas while preserving a feeling of openness. There are both large and small dining rooms, suitable for large groups or romantic evenings for two. Jazz music played over the speaker.

Our server, Alex, greeted us cordially, took out drink orders, brought some excellent chewy bread and olive oil, and allowed us time to study the menu. Cafe Thirty-A prints a new menu every day, with changes subject to food availability or the chef's inclinations. It's a one-page affair, closely printed, with wines listed on the back. The menu offers starters, salads, wood oven-baked pizzas, and main courses. Desserts are listed on a separate menu, and also change daily.

We decided on starters, and I was happy to see that Alex didn't ask us if we wanted to order the rest of the meal right away. He left us to think about what we wanted and to enjoy the drinks and appetizers. No rush. Good for you, Alex.

The appetizers came. My dining companion got grilled Georgia quail with grits, and I had sliced grilled duck breast on arugula with mango, avocado and a sweet chili/basil vinaigrette. Both were generously portioned. the plump quail was rich, the grits were richer. The plate was garnished with a crisp-fried sage fritter. The duck had a hint of five-spice, and came grilled slightly rare. There were creamy slices of avocado with the mango, which helped the vinaigrette cut the richness of the meat. My companion boxed half of the grits. Alex brought her the printed recipe. Good for you again, Alex.

Other starters that night were lobster bisque, beef carpaccio, grilled Portobello mushrooms with pancetta, stone crab claws, mussels with curry cream broth, a crab cake, and tune poke. Salads included Caesar, caprese salad, iceberg wedge, poached beets, arugula with pecorino and pine nuts, and fried oyster and spinach. Pizzas can also be ordered as starters, and included margherita (tomatoes and mozzarella), Greek with shrimp and feta, and grilled chicken with barbecue sauce and roast corn.

We passed on to the main course. I ordered something I have never tried—grilled Hawaiian butterfish—and my companion did the same, with pan-seared cobia. Both arrived in living color, artfully arranged on their plates.

My butterfish lived up to its name. It was extraordinarily light and tender, each bite melting in the mouth. It came resting on a sweet potato and boniato puree, with papaya mango salsa and an aromatic passion fruit sauce. I left not a trace of it. The cobia was seared just to doneness, resting on a bright green bed of pearl-sized Israeli couscous, garnished with grape tomatoes, artichoke hearts, onions and hearts of palm in a citrus beurre blanc. Half of it went home with my companion.

Other items that night were oven-roasted grouper, sesame crusted yellowfin tuna, linguini with shrimp and baby clams, steak frites, roasted king salmon with warm chickpea salad, filet mignon, rack of lamb, fried pork chop with apples and mashed potatoes, Maine lobster with truffled three-cheese macaroni, and roast chicken. Assorted side items served with the above included roasted corn, black beans, risotto, lentils and baked potato.

I didn't manage to get a to-go dessert menu, but I remembered most of them. Available were a strawberry/kiwi napoleon, creme brulee, apple bread pudding, chocolate torte, sorbets and ice creams, and a special - chocolate stout cake with Guinness ice cream. My friend got the first and I got the last, having never tasted beer-flavored ice cream, not even in college.

The napoleon was perfectly light, with airy pastry and sliced fruit, held together by lavender-flavored pastry cream. The glossy stout cake was less sweet than I was expecting, and the ice cream reminded me of the head on a pint of—you guessed it—Guinness.

Cafe Thirty-A used to be impossible to miss. One drove out Scenic 30A, staring at the beach—still visible then—until the big pastel restaurant that looked like someone's house popped up. It stood in the vicinity of a few modest houses, the odd bank, and some scrubby beach vegetation. It still looks like someone's house, but it's surrounded by a few more banks, lots more businesses, and less modest houses. The restaurant has lasted a good, long time, for good reason. As for the beach, it's still rumored to be there.

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