The first thing I'm asked when I step into El Tropical at 40 North 400 West is "Did you serve a Mission in the Dominican Republic?" I've noticed this many times during my culinary excursions in Provo -- most ethnic proprietors think you must have served a mission in their country; otherwise, why would you be eating their food? The only ones who never ask are the Chinese proprietors -- they just don't give a damn.
The place is rather dim, even though the walls are painted yellow. And the wait staff are all dressed in black. What is it with black? To my way of thinking black is for funerals and ninja assassins. It depresses me to be served by someone in black, because they are either in mourning or I don't dare turn my back on them lest they shove an assegai into my rib cage.
They make their own tamarind juice, so I started with a tall glass of that. Muy sabroso.
In passing, the owner complained that business was down because of the street repair and tree planting taking place right outside his door. He said the city promised him it would only take one month to complete, but it is now four months since they started. He' hoping they'll finish before the snow flies.
I ordered pork mofongo; fried strips of fresh pork with fried mashed plantains on the side:
It was quite toothsome, although the fried plantains are a bit bland and dry. Ask for some of their homemade salsa verde to pour over it for a smooth ride down your esophagi.
I'm giving this place Four Burps. It's a fine place to take a date or a spouse, or the extended family. Their daily luncheon special is $7.00, and includes a huge amount of rice and beans; it's more of a construction worker's lunch than an office worker's.
I paid $16.72 for my tamarindo and the pork mofongo.
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