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SILVER SLIPPER LIVES UP TO STERLING REPUTATION
Ashby Stiff
Tallahassee Democrat
Published: Friday, December 28, 2001
Until the early '60s, Tallahassee squirmed in the awkward stance of a tourist state capital trapped in a dry county's body.
Since politics and booze were as chummy as grits and cheese, the Silver Slipper had a problem. The only logical, if not quite legal, solution was to create the small private dining rooms that would become Silver Slipper hallmarks.
Behind their curtained doors, pols could toss back brown-bagged, bootleg hooch and conjure political intrigue with never a smirch on the pious public image.
That sort of inventive catering, coupled with "Papa" Jimmy Kalfas's vivid, charismatic personality, catapulted the Slipper into a 60-year tenure as the state's gastronomic epicenter for political deals and shenanigans.
Governors' races have been planned, and election victories celebrated, at the Slipper. Presidents Kennedy, Johnson, Carter and Reagan dined there. Ambassadors, senators, movie stars and sports greats have been frequenters, as has every Florida politician of note for the past six decades.
Like any 60-year survivor, the restaurant has seen good times and bad. Early on the morning of Feb. 17, 1974, the original Silver Slipper, a beloved old barn of a place on South Monroe Street, burned to the ground. The news sent shockwaves and made newscasts from Pensacola to Key West.
The family re-opened the restaurant in a basement end of the then new Northwood Mall. An aging Papa lived to see the move completed, but passed away soon after. For the ensuing 10 years, his son, the late Chris Kalfas, ran the business at that location.
In 1984 (the year this writer became the Democrat's restaurant snitch, by the way), the Silver Slipper built a grand, brick establishment complete with the little private nooks for dining, an always-hopping dance lounge, and banquet facilities for hundreds.
We recall doing a double take when Chris told us the crystal lobby chandelier cost $20,000, and $150 to clean, and that the first year's insurance premiums totaled $68,000. In 1984 dollars, these were impressive sums.
Given that luxury's neither cheap to build nor to buy, it's surprising that dinner and a drink or two here can tab out for as little as $35 per person, tax and tip included. Get showy with the wine labels, and the total might climb to $50. That's for abundant portions of top quality beef, choice Gulf seafood and he-man drinks, simply prepared and delivered by ace servers like Brian, who can quote available labels of Pinot Grigio from memory.
Now in its third and fourth generations of Kalfas family ownership - under Bill Kalfas and his son Wes - the cooking has reached a level that matches the restaurant's other reasons for renown. In three exceptional, full-course dinners last Saturday, the only fault we found occurred in a ($7.95) appetizer of Escargots. Served overly dry in individual patty shells, the snails lacked garlic butter for sopping, which, of course, is half the fun of eating the things.
But fully loaded French Onion Soup (cup, $3.95) couldn't have been better, and liberally appointed Greek dinner salads approached entree scale.
Topped with slim, crisp onion rings and sided by sauteed mushrooms, a towering Filet Migon ($27.99) would have yielded to a salad fork. Old Talquin Inn class Bacon Wrapped Shrimp ($19.99) proved that, in this dish at least, broiled beats fried for flavor. And a generous filet of Broiled Florida Grouper ($17.99) came fresh, buttery and parsley-sprinkled.
Better judgment bade us eschew the temptations on Brian's dessert tray. Yes, well, who could resist a pecan-stuffed, honey dripping log of Baklava, even at $6.25 a pop?
What the heck, it was Christmas.
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