We walked up Biscayne, across the bridge over the inlet, and then turned directly to the bay. We could only glimpse the water before the road turned into a bridge to North Beach. We turned around there and hugged the streets along the inlet. Every third home or so was for sale. A narrow empty lot had been turned into a park (we could tell because there was a small sign that read “Park.”) We watched a motorboat come slowly up the channel and still manage to create a wake large enough to come over the banks. The low-slung, grade-level-entry houses were barely above water.
Back at the motel we researched “art galleries.” Where were they? Doesn’t Miami have a big art fair every year? We took an Uber up to the “Design District.” Every big designer brand you can think of has an outlet here. But no galleries. We got a cup of coffee at Pura Vida, a really good “cortadito,” and walked out of that area into Buena Vista, a comfortable old school residential neighborhood.
We crossed the tracks and decided to walk by the two restaurants our nephew owns. We had not hooked up with him yet. We were on the wrong side of the street when we realized we had walked right by both of them. I had taken note of the graphic on the side of one building, line drawings of young people dancing. I took it for an old fashioned teen center. It was Walrus Rodeo. Boia De, in the same strip mall, has such a low profile it took us a few minutes to realize we were standing right in front of it. At night, when their brilliant explanation mark of a logo is lit up it looks like my photo above. Our nephew was there attending to a plumbing issue. With a Michelin star Boia De is booked months in advance but somehow he arranged for us to get a table that night.
Our server, Tamar, told us they usually recommend six dishes to share per table. We decided on two, “Confit Octopus” and “Ricotta Gnocchi Alla Norcina”and two half orders, “Luci’s Chopped Salad” and “Lamb Ribs Fra Diavola.” All four were phenomenal but the salad was the best. We couldn’t finish the Gnocchi and brought it back to our motel room. Classic R&B music set the perfect vide. In the bathroom, Curtis Mayfield’s “Future Shock” sounded as timeless as ever.
Leave a comment