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Sunday, 31 May 2009

Flames: Little Italia, Atlantic City

Written by Shanea Patterson
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My fiancé and I had grown tired of the familiar attractions in Atlantic City that we’d seen before. Upon coming across “Flames,” which suits its name, we immediately fell in love with the décor. It was an outdoor café, located a few blocks from the Atlantic City Hilton Casino Resort, where we were staying for a week. Easy on the eyes, the lovely beach bar was central to all of the excitement, yet it hovered in a realm of its own, offering the tranquility of being on an island paradise away from civilization. Our wooden table was covered with ivory linen and nicely shaded by a tall umbrella. Atop the tables were Red Burgundy wine glasses filled with fresh spring water.

Flames, Little Italia, Atlantic City, in good taste, Shanea PattersonMy fiancé and I had grown tired of the familiar attractions in Atlantic City that we’d seen before. Upon coming across “Flames,” which suits its name, we immediately fell in love with the décor. It was an outdoor café, located a few blocks from the Atlantic City Hilton Casino Resort, where we were staying for a week. Easy on the eyes, the lovely beach bar was central to all of the excitement, yet it hovered in a realm of its own, offering the tranquility of being on an island paradise away from civilization. Our wooden table was covered with ivory linen and nicely shaded by a tall umbrella. Atop the tables were Red Burgundy wine glasses filled with fresh spring water.

The curly-haired waiter smiled as we took the menus and glanced over them briefly, before realizing that they were written completely in Italian. In his rich Italian accent, he kindly pointed out that the English descriptions were underneath in avocado green, before giving us a few seconds to look over the brunch menu. Flames, Little Italia, Atlantic City, in good taste, Shanea PattersonAmong the offerings were omelets of all sorts, pancakes, fresh fruits, and tropical drinks. After carefully considering my options, I ordered the fluffy pancakes with fresh strawberries on the side and a pineapple juice. My fiancé chose an omelet and a tropical orange juice, which pleased him.

As palm trees swayed around every table, wooden fences separated restaurant goers from outside distractions. I felt like my fiancé and I were the only two there as we conversed over our delectable meal. The waiter gave us time to eat before returning to replenish our beverages without asking. The essence of the restaurant gave off a vibe unfamiliar in any other place I’ve ever eaten.

After finishing up, the waiter saw us out with a native joke and the hostess waved good-bye and wished us well in Italian. A little slice of Italian paradise, I thought, as I walked arm in arm with my fiancé. After leaving the peaceful serenity of the restaurant, we were back to the hustle and bustle of the boardwalk. “At least we had ‘Flames,’” my fiancé said, nudging me.

© Shanea Patterson

Last modified on Sunday, 16 December 2012

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