To sum up this place in one word, “sexy” would be all encompassing. Artie Batista, Spice’s owner, managed Mangos for 13 years and he brought plenty of the Ocean Drive mecca’s sultry Latin flavor to Hollywood. The distractingly buxom hostesses by the front door, the salsa and merengue music, the bartenders, the soft hue from the lights, the gold-tiled bar counters – even the display of bottles drips with sensuality. And that’s before people start dancing on the bar.
Something wonderful is happening in Hollywood, and you're missing it.
Sure, you might be hanging out at Spice Resto-Lounge -- shimmying to the salsa beat, fighting the humidity with exotic mojitos, lining the colorful bar -- but you're walking right past those tables where dinner is served.
The dance floor draws a good crowd, but we ate alone on a Tuesday evening and were one of just a handful of diners on Friday night.
''Must be typical nightclub fare,'' you must be thinking, passing along to the VIP area in back or the stage where South American music ignites.
You are wrong -- so very wrong -- to pass the tables so casually. This is food worth going out for.
Try a tilapia fillet, dusted with flour and pan-seared crisp, then topped with a marinara that swims with tiny baby shrimp.
Try a pepper-crusted filet mignon, its sharp bite cut by a sweet brandy reduction, which could have been reduced further to reach its potential but was nonetheless wonderful. Simple mashed potatoes and a rustic mix of grilled asparagus, zucchini, squash, onion and pepper make hearty sides.
Especially try the masitas de puerco, Spice's best dish for big appetites. Five pork chunks, each as big as a woman's fist, are marinated in mojo, then coated with flour and lightly fried. Each bite is juicy and comforting, the light crust giving way to a soft, citrus-kissed meat. Served with a mound of yellow rice, sweet plantains and a pile of warm, caramelized red onions, it is both refreshing and warmly familiar.
The salmon was far too salty, but mostly redeemed by its fruit coulis topping.
Go easy on the appetizers, which could use a little more flavor and finesse.
Skewers of chicken and beef were tantalizingly advertised as marinated in sour orange mojo, but they tasted like plain tenderloins grilled on sticks.
We were also excited for the coxinhas, traditional Brazilian potato fritters stuffed with shredded chicken, but the filling was gluey -- the sweet chile dipping sauce deserves better.
If starters are a must, try the empanadas -- especially the beef, bursting with flavor -- or shrimp ceviche, served in an oversized martini glass with a smattering of picante tomato.
If the live band or recorded Brazilian concerts are too loud, which they can be, there is ample sidewalk dining. The outdoor setting is perfect to linger over mojitos spiked with orange juice or pineapple.
Make plans to dance away dessert calories, as well -- everything is made on site. The chocolate ecstasy lives up to its name, with a warm disc of dense chocolate cake topped with caramel-drizzled vanilla ice cream and whipped cream.
Service at Spice goes beyond friendly -- the servers, bartenders and busboys practically dance through the room, and owner Arnie Batista is having more fun than any restaurateur in South Florida. With his shaved head and '50s-style black-framed glasses, he swigs Red Bull behind the leopard-print hostess stand and collars waitresses for impromptu salsa exhibitions.
I suspect our cover was blown on our last visit, when at least five staffers checked up to make sure were enjoying the entrees, but none of the other tables appeared to lack for attention.
The entire atmosphere, in fact, is less ''restaurant,'' more ``great Brazilian party that happens to have excellent food.''
Even the most rhythmically-impaired will want to mambo, so stop missing out.
