Bom Apetite is a quiet, little Portuguese restaurant in the shadows of the Bellville Avenue mills. One can pass through a glass door from the restaurant, or from the avenue entrance into Bom Apetite's quiet, little Portuguese bar. A bit overly lit and somewhat stark, the small lounge area contains a a short length of bar and a half-dozen or so tables. As the bar stools were all occupied, the Barflies ordered drinks from Tony the bartender and sat at one of the tables. Mr. Draft ordered a Sambuca on the rocks, as no draft beers were to be had, and Mr. Greyhound again had cranberry juice splashed in with his vodka. Mr. Mix sipped at- and didn't finish- a fruity concoction of pineapple juice, rum and a mystery ingredient, while Mr. Sazurac indulged in an espresso, with somethin'-somethin' on the side. At least three televisions were on, broadcasting a soccer game, news, and something resembling an afternoon soap opera- all in Portuguese. All the customers, except the Barflies, were speaking Portuguese. And Tony took our orders in English, but one sensed Portuguese was his first language. The Barflies enjoy drinking in a city that is ethnically diverse and know that only the surface of the Portuguese (and Hispanic) bars have been scratched, with many more to come in the coming weeks. But this bar was just a bit too plain...a bit too vanilla. A language shift alone does not make a bar cosmopolitan in feel. This place rates a quatro. (Roll Call: Mr. Draft, Mr. Mix, Mr. Greyhound, Mr. Sazurac)
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