Ron W.
Yelp
Got FOMO? Go to Scoff and as soon as you're off the Ferry book a table here. Scoff is old Irish slang for food and don't scoff, the food at this charming outpost is straight forward, accessible and brilliant food.
While the atmosphere is casual and cheerful, and the menu playful, the serious kitchen is seriously about their business of preparing wonderful dishes. Everything on the concise menu is well thought out and meticulously executed. I doff my Toque to Scoff.
The building is a re-purposed diner that was a re-purposed house, now run by enthusiastic professionals. And, you don't have to dump the 4 X 4 at Carmax to afford dinner here. It is very reasonable to dine here especially considering the level of delicious dishes the kitchen tenderly renders.
Salmon colored walls, wood plank floor and soft lighting make this feel like a Nor'easter picked the building up in Dublin and plunked it down on Fogo Island. Kitchen kitsche, portraits of Chickens make you feel at home assuming you don't have room for all your kitchen gadgets in your drawers, (kitchen drawers) and Chickens have taken over your Den.
A lilting Irish music loop had me chewing my Mustard Pickles to the beat and wanting to do an Irish Step Dance on the table until there's peace in the World or at least until the US 2020 elections when we have another chance at it.
The Staff: Charming cubed. Energetic, on it, and in it from Celina's first warm and welcome "Hello" to the final scoop of Scoff's Chocolate Banana Pie.
A server saw me shamelessly licking the plate of Pierogis and quickly brought two Shaq fingers thick slices of house made bread so I could sop and mop like an adult instead of a cave dwelling heathen.
The Vibe: Those locals who know what's good for them and were lured away from their Jiggs Dinner, and CFA's (Come From Away's) who watched the last Newfie Parts Unknown. This place is stogged (full) every night so get a running start at a table as the food and service are top notch and there are as many restaurants to chose from here on Fogo Island as there are toes on a Camel. However, Scoff could hold it's own in New York or LA on it's own merit.
The Bar: Yes, they have spirits. I know because after three Haskapper Cocktails I was chatting with them. First of the season Strawberries, Haskapberries, and Gin. I'm in. This was grown-up Baby Shower Party Punch and smoother than a baby's butt.
I followed that with an Aged Red (which could describe my complexion after a week on Fogo) was a Belgium Cherry Lambic Style Dark Beer that was sweet on the tongue from start through happy ending.
The Food: This was bliss. Salt Cod Pierogies made in-house by the High Priestess of Pierogi. The Irish Bao were nestled in a tangle of Mustardy Pickled Shaved Cucs. Gad Zooks that was delicious and malicious as I could have easily eaten these little dumplings until I resemble one along with munchin' the Scrunchions (fried Pork bits) on top of the Pierogis until Christmas.
The Duck Confit Touton (make that two ton for me) came on life raft sized a pastry pillow with Orange Imperials, Molasses and Pickled Shallots playing off each other like a Hollywood couple. This dish was poetry for the palate. It made me want to play Duck Duck Moose with all the other diners.
The Pork Belly Roast was a size 12 brogan of juicy crispy edged
Pork. Unlike most bellies there was very little fat which is kinda like finding a Newfie that doesn't like a pint. The former is rare, the latter is non-existent.
The Creamy Dill Sprinkled Potato Salad was so good I texted 23 And Me to tell them they've erred. I really am Irish.
Gasping for air, my fancy Ferragamo belt holding on for dear life, I asked for the house made Chocolate Banana Pie. The Pie was indeed a thing of beauty. And beauty, of course, is in the pie of the beholder.
So, intrepid travelers, and Fogo-ites, Fogoians and/or Fogosians (Armenian Irish) while on Fogo do not forego the chance to scarf it up at Scoff.
