Food for a Fan by Paul M. J. SucheckiWhat better place for a film buff to be inspired than at the restaurant honoring a movie that won Oscars for best screenplay, director and picture? It’s Casablanca. Nobody comes here for the waters.
Borrow a parking space assigned to director Michael Curtiz or actor Paul Henreid. Then heed the posted warning that you’re leaving California behind. The décor looks cast off from the movie’s set while the fez-topped waiters have stepped out of Rick’s. Live music accompanies most dining, although Dooley Wilson has yet to show for a rendition of “As Time Goes By.” An hour there is a reminder that producing movies is modern day myth making. Humphrey Bogart, Ingrid Bergman and Claude Rains seem to whisper in the shadows.
If the only thing notable about this restaurant were set decoration, it wouldn’t be worth more than a mention, but for twenty years the food has been first rate. Given California’s soupcon of cultural influences, you couldn’t expect Casablanca to offer traditional Moroccan fare. Instead, it serves Mexican seafood. The margaritas are generous, the pescado fresh, and the soft tortillas home baked. The vegetables are not exciting but the pilaf is zesty. The house specialty is calamari, lovingly, tenderly prepared, the best I’ve had. It is possible to get meat, either the Rick and Sam Combo or Brochette Blue Parrot, both filet mignon. The house erred in naming the chicken plates after the movie’s scriptwriters, Howard Koch and Julius Epstein. Given the muscularity of their writing, shark would have been more appropriate.
At your first visit to Casablanca, you can apply for a passport. It isn’t as dear as Peter Lorre’s letters of transit, but it will entitle you to Tuesday two-fers, and Thursday’s 99-cent margaritas.
With private booths and a romantic atmosphere, the restaurant is a perfect place for a date. Prices are reasonable. Of all the restaurants, in all the towns, in all the world, you should walk into this one. Here’s looking at you, kid.
