IF A Caribbean restaurant lacks open windows, then its cachet is seriously in doubt. Miami Spice has credentials for its West Indian food, but without access to the outdoors that essential ingredient is missing.
This is hardly the fault of Miami Spice itself. Everything else has been done to make it successful.
Named after the Florida restaurant of Steven Raichlen, this place has friendly staff, a profusion of spicy sauces, real key lime and conches, and real West Indian music. Raichlen himself came to Hong Kong to teach the staff Caribbean cooking. The Jamaican Consulate spent several days teaching them the Jamaican way of life. And Jake Klein, the present chef, gives ample portions of interesting dishes.
Added to this a magical entrance, as spicy as the food itself. The Louis Rosemonti paintings have a Rousseau-like savagery; there is an inviting profusion of rum bottles at the bar, and the menu is full of fascinating recipes, all explained.
But the first floor location lacks the breadth, the winds, the flowers, that entrance to the great outdoors. The interior, with a profusion of air-conditioning ducts jutting out from a low ceiling, is rather tacky. The decor should dance in primary colours. Instead, it looks like the set of an off-Broadway production. Or (as my guest unkindly noted), like the background for a Peewee Herman show.
The waiters don't give you a chance to look at the scenery. They are almost frantic in trying to please; darting around incessantly, asking your approval of the food, explaining trivia about the dishes. 'Before you order the gazpacho, sir,' said one, 'we wish to inform you that the soup is cold, not hot.'While so much attention can be wearying, it becomes part of the environment, like the palm trees and tabletop pineapples.