Patrick's - a dining experience to remember

Last night my wife, and our neighbors Laura, Bob, and India decided to try a local restaurant, Patrick's, which we'd heard was a good place to try traditional Grenadian food. Megan being a bit more complex in what she desired to let into her mouth than the rest of us started to worry a bit about what might be available and posted this stress on Facebook. She was received with a couple surprise responses of "the food is good, but be on your best behavior. Patrick is a Diva". I laughed when she told this to me and said well sounds like it'll be an adventure.
I'd seen this place on my many rides heading north into St. George's. It's essentially a very small house with a cute but small patio out front which barely fits two tables for four. I decided as an aspect of "being on my best behavior" perhaps it would be in good taste to make a reservation, even if this place was one string of pink Christmas lights away from being just a shack. The lady taking the reservation seemed this was quite normal, asking for my "Sir name" (still getting used to those British influences down here), telephone number, and where I am coming from (why this last one? I've no idea). So with enough information to identify our party from the huge throngs of people sure to be beating the doors down for a table we headed off to have dinner.

In typical Grenada fashion there is no place to park, so we parked in a bus stop in front of the restaurant. It worked. It's not like there is anything such as "illegal parking" here. We walked in through the white & rusty-barred security gate and up onto the porch finding one table set for five, and the other empty. We tried to walk inside but found the interior to be about the same size as the porch, two tables squeezed in and a swinging half-door into the kitchen. There was a late 20's-something couple at one table and the other empty. After being seated on the porch we found a plastic sheet blowing onto us and the table which had obviously been setup as a means to keep rain off the table, but was now half covering India and myself. The lady said she'd call Patrick to address this. Patrick is a fairly tall thin black man in his... 50's(?) with a short scraggly fro of sorts covering the rear two thirds of his head, the rest of his noggin remaining bald from a well progressed receding hairline. He wore a black "Hawaiian-esk" shirt with bright pink birds on it, and black pants. He directed another man, a bit younger, on how to remove the tarp in a traditional Grenadian mumble. Patrick then addressed us for what we'd like to drink...

A quick flash back, Megan shared the responses she received from Facebook with all of us in the car along our ride to the restaurant. This having been said we were all a bit on guard to be on our best behavior and wondering a bit what a male Grenadian Diva would be like...
Now this is where words truly lose their meaning. I wish very badly I could have had a hidden video camera for the following performance. I will do my best to describe what proceeded...
With his hips thrust forward and to the side, pushing the slight bulge of his belly to pull tight on his shirt, one hand on his hip and the other wafting around as he spoke, he slowly listed off the drinks he offered with an air of "my talent is at such a waist with these people." Patrick contemplated each drink we requested with long drawn out thoughts requiring looking to the ceiling and stroking the back of his head with the wafting hand. He had mentioned last that he had "soft drinks," so I requested a "coke, if he has any." Again with the contemplation and deep drama he looked back at me and said "Coke." I said, "Yes please, if you have any." A silent moment of dramatic head stroking and looking to the sky "Pepsi." um...me "yes, Pepsi would be great." Megan had wanted a 7-up or Sprite but he ignored her request as his drama over my request hadn't quite been played out to its fullest yet. Not wishing to endure this prolonged drama focus on herself she quickly added "I'll take a Pepsi too please." Patrick seemed a bit annoyed at his next performance being cut short, but moved on to Laura and Bob. Bob requested a Rum & coke at first I believe, which was then turned into a Rum & punch by Patrick. Laura requested a Carib, which was too simple to cause any commotion apparently... Laura ordering then for India said "just a glass of tap water for her." Patrick back into his dramatic arched back pose, stroking his hair ... Laura immediately sensing the despair in Patrick's acting, added "we live here and drink the tap water every day. She'll be just fine." Patrick rebuked in a few short mumbled words with uncomfortable pauses in between, then went into a full monologue (I REALLY wish I could recall his exact words because they were priceless but this is the gist) "I've lived my whole life in Grenada and I have traveled everywhere," implying that even he doesn't drink the water... then the owner of the restaurant rounds out his speech with rubbing his belly with his hand which used to be on his hip and still stroking the back of his head, telling Laura that "he wouldn't want the little doll to get diarrhea as the water here gives him diarrhea." Laura, about to burst out laughing and at the same time trying to still "be on her best behavior," requested multiple times that a bottle of water would be great. This event, just to order drinks, took a good 10-15 minutes alone. It was quite entertaining and uncomfortable at the same time. Generally I'd describe Patrick as flaming gay, but here in Grenada where such tendencies are VERY frowned upon he probably would deny it up and down. If someone had thrown a pink feather boa around his neck he would have taken it in delightful stride - I swear he would have. The thing is, he isn't the kind of gay guy who women swoon to have as their best 'gay friend.' He's a Prima Donna.
Wikipedia: Prima Donna: "these 'prima donnas' (prime donne in Italian) were often regarded as egotistical, unreasonable and irritable, with a rather high opinion of themselves not shared by others." Yep, that's Patrick. Although all it did for us is to cause us to all laugh hysterically inside, Laura being the only one who wasn't able to contain her self slipping a few giggles here and there. I can't blame her. It was one hell of a performance, but it wasn't over quite yet.
Our table was set with every plate face down, a basic silverware set in the three point setting of nicer restaurants, soup spoon up top.
Returning to the moment after we completed our drink order Patrick noticed with an expression of pained frustration and annoyance that India's place setting was not as he had originally set it. She had turned her plate over to face upwards (as anyone would expect to use a plate), and her silverware were slightly out of place. Patrick immediately leaned over fixing everything, telling India that she had not yet been told to turn her plate over and frantically asking where her soup spoon had gone to. This poor little six year old, who is very quite mannered as it is, was beet-red and scared out of her wits. After setting things "right," Patrick retreated to the kitchen for our drinks.
As we waited for our drinks we all looked at each other and quietly commented on the fact that there were no menus. Nor were we ever asked what we'd like for dinner... A female waitress brought us our drinks with none of the flare or fanfare of Patrick. Other than passing our table while wondering around aimlessly we had no more encounters with Patrick. This was a blessing and a disappointment at the same time. About 20 minutes or so after the drinks had been served and we had come to the conclusion that we were simply being served whatever they were making, that night our suspicions were confirmed. Soup arrived and was placed on top of the upside down plates. It seemed a bit strange to us but based on the mannerism of Patrick and this waitress I had the feeling they saw this as the formal way to serve soup. The soup was good - it was a brothy stew-like soup. After this course was finished and had been cleared, we waited about 30 minutes and the waitress returned with a tray full of teacup saucer-size plates full of different foods. There were at least six different foods before us. After setting these down she returned with another tray... and then another... we seriously had every inch of the table covered in these small plates of various foods, not a single one repeated. The items included goat, pork, beef, chicken, lobster, shrimp, eggplant, rice, fried vegetables, and much much more. The food was very good. Some of it was a bit weird for my taste buds but I would not have said it was bad, just different. It was the most truly Grenadian-style meal we'd all ever had.
After we had stuffed ourselves and the plates finally disappeared desert followed which was a sort of chocolate cake. I am a desert snob, and a chocolate snob, so my opinion might be a bit off from the norm, but I was not impressed with the desert at all. We really didn't even have room for it so frankly it didn't matter by that point.
One problem with not having menus is that we had absolutely no idea what this was costing all of us. When we got the bill we were all quite surprised, but at that point there isn't much you can do. The bill amounted to a little over $80 EC per person. This is equivalent to a nice steak at a fancy restaurant down here so we all considered it to be pretty steep. A little more than three hours after entering Patrick's we left with full tummies, empty wallets, and one hell of a dining experience.

If you are down here in Grenada and looking for a unique experience give Patrick's a try, it's a good place to go for an experience but not a place I'd come back to on a regular basis.