"
Westward and southward from the Thespian glare are one or two streets
where a Spanish-American colony has huddled for a little tropical
warmth in the nipping North. The centre of life in this precinct is "El
Refugio," a cafe and restaurant that caters to the volatile exiles from
the South. Up from Chili, Bolivia, Colombia, the rolling republics of
Central America and the ireful islands of the Western Indies flit the
cloaked and sombreroed senores, who are scattered like burning lava by
the political eruptions of their several countries. Hither they come to
lay counterplots, to bide their time, to solicit funds, to enlist
filibusterers, to smuggle out arms and ammunitions, to play the game at
long taw. In El Refugio, they find the atmosphere in which they thrive.
In the restaurant of El Refugio are served compounds delightful to the
palate of the man from Capricorn or Cancer. Altruism must halt the story
thus long. On, diner, weary of the culinary subterfuges of the Gallic
chef, hie thee to El Refugio! There only will you find a fish--bluefish,
shad or pompano from the Gulf--baked after the Spanish method. Tomatoes
give it color, individuality and soul; chili colorado bestows upon
it zest, originality and fervor; unknown herbs furnish piquancy and
mystery, and--but its crowning glory deserves a new sentence.
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