CLOS is the sort of place that if I legitimately rated places using a 5-star system, it would receive four solid stars. I know anything less than five stars sounds like a diss, but to put it into perspective out of a 5-star rating I consider Olivia Munn a solid four. And I’d sell a kidney to a Haitian smuggler for a chance to sniff her underwear.
I’ve been passing by CLOS for nearly a year during my lunch breaks and never thought to give it a try. Maybe it’s all the older guys in business suits reminding me of my previous soul-crushing work environment, or maybe I just don’t feel like sitting at a bistro for lunch and instead like to take something quick to Bayfront Park and sit by the bay with the offensively-smelling homeless guy.
What kind of business guys?
But then one Saturday while trying to figure out what food to crap out a few hours later, I decided it was worth a shot. With the exception of some guy checking out porn (that’s all I do, so I assumed he did too) on his laptop the place was empty. That’s fair, it’s in a pretty business-oriented area on a Saturday afternoon. The dude at the counter, an Argentinian man who I assume owns the place, was nice as hell. I’m all like “what do you have” and he’s like “things.” I saw fish and steak on the menu and asked which he suggests, and showing his Argentine side he says, “oh, steak, definitely steak.” My concubine goes with the chicken which has some sort of mushroom sauce. I tell the guy to get us two glasses of wine, whichever one pairs best with what we’re having. I should’ve known the guy would give us a malbec because “malbec” is a synonym for “wine” in Argentina. And “rare” is a synonym for “well-done” in Argentina too.
I’m all like “what do you have” and he’s like “things.”
Within something like 2 minutes he comes to our table with our food and wine. I was convinced this was sorcery. Steak and mashed potatoes. That’s such manly food. Think about it for a second; the steak is made by murdering an animal, then taking a knife to its lifeless corpse and butchering it to pieces. Then you take the butchered slabs of red meat and you throw it onto a metal container forged by smiths with massive industrial machines, and then heat the meat using fire or electricity. And for the mashed potatoes, you take regular potatoes and think “no, unacceptable, their shape holds consistency.” So you take out all your aggression on those potatoes by smashing them into a purée, ideally doing it with your bare fists. Pair that shit with wine and it’s even manlier. It’s the same as the mashed potatoes, with the fist-smashing of food, but they imprison it in a barrel for months or years. Humans are dicks.
By the way, the food came out so quickly because I later noticed they have it all pre-made in the front by the counter. Some people hate that, but I’m all about taste, and it tasted fine to me so I’m cool with it.
Anyway, I ate the fuck out of it. For dessert I had a flan, and it was better than masturbating in a public restroom. I’m always on the lookout for good flan, tiramisu, or crème brûlée so being able to find a place in such close proximity to me is better than masturbating in a public restroom with actual dividers between urinals so it’s not as awkward as what I’ve been dealing with.
CLOS is worth the time and trip. If you’re anywhere near downtown, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t try it out. Unless your reason is “I hate Argentinean people”, which I totally understand.
People who would enjoy it
People who would not enjoy it
- 100 S Biscayne Blvd
- Miami, FL 33131
- (305) 416-3300