Years ago, Yogi Berra, the eminent observer of the social

scene, is supposed to have said of an at-the-time trendy Manhattan refreshment

stand, “Nobody goes there anymore; it’s too crowded.”

Much fun has been made of this remark, but Berra, if indeed

he said what he was alleged to have said, was being most cogent: He meant

nobody who was anybody went there.

Fortunately, no such fate has befallen The Veranda, downtown

Fort Myers’ gracious and popular landmark restaurant. Since opening its doors

more than two decades ago, The Veranda continues to serve as a hub around which

much of Lee County’s power structure gathers for lunch (and for dinner as

well). At or around noon Monday through Friday, seated at its spotless,

cloth-covered tables are judges, attorneys, county commissioners, various pols,

developers and construction moguls, and chief executive officers, plus seekers

of favors and information as well as assorted feeders at the public trough.

With good reason: Not only is the ambience an affirmation of the proper and

time-honored order of things, the groceries are first-rate.

The menu features crab cakes, loin of pork medallions,

grilled salmon salad, chicken Caesar salad (the “Caesar” having no connection

to the succession of Roman emperors, but rather to a man named César, a former

Tijuana restaurateur who originated the dish), a grilled portobello mushroom

sandwich and a substantial ground beef sirloin specialty billed as a

“courtyard” burger. Prices range from $6.50 (for soup and salad) to $9.95 (for

crab cakes).

After we each asked for iced tea, my companion ordered the

crab cakes while I opted for the portobello mushroom sandwich. As our orders

were being prepared, we were served a basket from which glistened a small,

round loaf of what proved to be delicious bread. Unfortunately (to my taste,

anyway) the bread had been brushed with a honey-based glaze, making its initial

taste sweet. Also, it made my fingers sticky.

Enough can’t be said in praise of the crab cakes. Described

on the menu as “lightly sautéed,” they were three in number and appeared to

have been carefully deep-fried (which is to say not allowed to become infused

with the oil in which they were cooked, thus becoming, uh, “heavy”) rather than

sautéed. They were generous in their content of lump crabmeat, and prior to

frying were rolled in a coating of saltine crackers and breadcrumbs, which gave

them a pleasing, slightly crunchy quality. They were accompanied by red creamer

potato salad, black bean relish, and on the side, a lovely remoulade sauce.

The grilled portobello mushroom sandwich also was a triumph.

It was served open-faced on a toasted kaiser roll and was topped with provolone

cheese and a slice of raw red onion. The accompanying choices were potato

salad, grilled vegetables or fruit. I chose the fruit—segments of grapefruit

and oranges and chunks of pineapple. A small portion of the garlic mayonnaise

much admired by area trenchermen was served on the side.

The crab cakes more than sated my companion’s appetite, but,

bravely, I opted for dessert, the choices being key lime pie, Bailey’s Irish

Cream cheesecake, peanut butter fudge pie, and, in my case, a dish of fresh

berries in cream.

Served in a standard “straight up” martini glass were

raspberries, blackberries and sliced strawberries, all indeed aswim in cream.

Topping the offering, however, was a blob of what I think of as “Gillette

Foamy.” I’m sure the developers of the product known as Cool Whip (or its

look-and-taste alikes) have become wealthy, but that doesn’t mean I’ve ever

wished them well. When a menu lists “whipped cream,” it should mean the real

whipped cream that a generation of mothers, back before the advent of aerosol containers,

used to whip up. I always scrape this other wretched stuff off to one side.

We finished lunch with cups of authentic and thus delicious

espresso.

You’d have to work at it to go wrong with lunch at The

Veranda. The menu changes periodically as the staff takes advantage of

seasonally available ingredients and strives to stay au courant with culinary

trends. But regardless of what is listed on a given day, you can count on it

being superbly prepared and efficiently and courteously served.

What’s more, you dine in a most pleasing atmosphere—a

tasteful and gentle décor, immaculate napery, gleaming table settings, a

minimum of typical restaurant clamor, piped-in Mozart and window views of a

soothing and inviting garden.

In sum, altogether a rewarding midday break.

The Veranda

Location: 2122 Second St.,

Fort Myers

Phone number: 332-2065

Lunch hours: 11 a.m.-2:30 p.m.

Reservations: Recommended for parties of six or more.

Web site: http://www.verandarestaurant.com.