In a city where great restaurants are a-plenty, and sexy new CFD joints pop up all the time and are in disturbing proliferation, where do I go when I want a guaranteed satisfying meal?
White Spot.
The classic.
Not over-reaching and upscale-wannabe Earls.
Not crap-on-a-plate-for-$25 Milestone’s.
Not we’re-a-club-no-we’re-a-resto-with-hookers-for-waitresses Joey’s.
Not forever-teetering-on-mediocrity-Sammy J Pepper’s.
Cactus Club is on a turnaround so I have no issues with them anymore – but I digress.
I don’t remember ever having a single bad meal, nor even a mediocre meal at White Spot. From back in the days of my pirate packs (and their stubborn refusal to give them to me now…), to my favourite plate of fluffy buttermilk pancakes, and to their seasonal specials – I’ve a special place in my tummy for Mssr Chuck & Co.’s culinary delights.
A simple dish of pasta deceivingly hides a plateful of flavours. Pizza topped with ingredients far-flung, plated on an amazingly crispy thin crust. Sandwiches stacked masterfully, and filled to fill. And best of all, service with a smile that matches the quality of the food.
Now if they’d only let me order a pirate pak for myself. I mean COME ON.
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