It’s Thursday night and Eating Companion (EC) and I are headed south on 41, meeting Pops in Nokomis at Curry Creek Café (CCC). Crossing Dona and Roberts Bay, we’re flanked by a post-apocalyptic sunset, fans of sunlight spread out wide above the still water of the bays. We’ve come here for a number of reasons: Pops swears they have the best cup of soup he’s ever had, that their meatloaf is the size of a large man’s face, and that if we aren’t completely stoked on the meal we can always head next door to Irene’s for dollar Pabst Blue Ribbons.
Turns out Irene’s has gone the way of the dodo, but CCC, by way of its reputation with locals like Pops and friends as the best restaurant in the area, is still holding strong. We slip in just in time to get the last table. The place is decorated with historical black and whites from the area. EC swears one of the photographs is of his apartment, on Venice Avenue. Pops says it could be any building in Venice with an archway, of which, to be fair, there are plenty.
Nokomis native David Arbuckle opened CCC several years ago with his wife, Rofi. David is a Nokomis boy, born and raised, but is also rumored to have made a name for himself in the '70s and '80s for the use of edible flowers. Rofi is a native of Java, in Indonesia, and both of their respective homelands are represented on the menu. There are mussels and calamari, as well as egg rolls and beef rendang. It isn’t fusion, though. You won’t see any cultural mash-ups. The two cuisines simply coexist. Most of the dinner menu hovers somewhere between $8 and $15, though they have a steal of an early bird menu for $8.95, and the lunch specials are cheap as chips.
We order some of Rofie’s Indonesian Egg Rolls ($4.50) and a bowl of the aforementioned soup, which turns out to not be soup at all, but Little Gasparilla Seafood Stew ($6.50). We’re nibbling on complimentary fresh-baked white bread with an olive tapenade that is just out of this world, the bread especially, thick and dense and hearty. The egg rolls are hefty little dudes, fried crispy and full of cabbage, fresh veggies, baby shrimp and chicken.
The stew arrives steaming hot, loaded with what appears to be any and every type of seafood (scallops, shrimp, various types of fish) as well as some very tasty sausage. It’s thick and rich, but endlessly complex, the white wine sauce lighting up taste buds I didn’t know I had with a low warmth. Pops is watching us eat with an amused, I-told-you-so grin that drives me crazy. But he’s right, and you can hold me to this: best soup in town, hands down. We’re finished with it before I realize I failed to take a photograph. So, you’ll have to trust me.
With entrees, we opt for a real cultural spread: CCC’s famous meatloaf $11.95); chicken sate (the Indonesian spelling of satay, $12.95); and the Angus burger with swiss cheese ($9). It’s a packed house in here and there are two types of tables: those with people who haven’t gotten their food yet and are talking; and those who have food in front of them, completely silent, their attention turned to their plates. This is a good sign.
The burger arrives cooked to a perfect medium rare, with a pile of shoestring fries dusted in a mesquite seasoning that about makes me cry. Imagine your favorite barbecue potato chips but exponentially better. The chicken sate is tender and sweet, the peanut sauce as proper as any I’ve ever had, spicy and sweet in equal parts. The meatloaf is, in fact, the size of a large man’s face. I am almost tempted to ask to see the dish it’s cooked in. It's dense and moist, the whole thing wrapped in bacon and bathed in a deep brown gravy, with mashed potatoes and wilted spinach on the side. Moms would have my head for this, but it might be the tastiest meatloaf I’ve ever had. Weighing in at no less than a full pound for just under $12, it also might be the best deal in town.
We’re about to settle up when EC asks what they’ve got for dessert. After the meatloaf, Pops is looking a little worse for wear, but he claims he could have a bite. We go for chocolate mousse and apple crisp (both a little steep at $7), which arrive in martini glasses, dolled up and divine. The apple crisp is chock-full of walnuts and sweet carmelized apples, with a scoop of vanilla ice cream from Bentley’s, just down the street. The mousse is light and rich, smooth as all get out.
We’re settling up, stuffed to the gills. Curry Creek Café might be Nokomis’ best-kept secret, but we can’t wait to spread the word.
Head south, Sarasota. You'll thank me later.
