DineOut
By Shelley Barnes
Buzz of the Island
Galveston’s Mosquito Café will leave you itching
for more
If I ever come across a magic lamp, I’ve already
pegged my three wishes. One, I want to live in the space
that is Mosquito Café, basking in its simple
elegance and breathing in the fresh Galveston air. Two,
I want owners Jerry Bear and Jack Parker to be permanent
houseguests and feng shui my home with their karmic
charm. And three, I want Liz Aguilar as my personal
chef, whipping up her impromptu concoctions and indulging
my every gustatory whim.
OK, so maybe I’d wish I were a multimillionaire,
but only as a means to quench my Mosquito Café
fetish. If you think I’m exaggerating, mosey on
by the next time you’re in Galveston. You’ll
thank me. You may be so moved as to write me into your
will. (See? I’ll get my wishes granted one way
or another.)
After just one very quick lunch, my dining companions
and I agreed to make an entire weekend of Mosquito Café
so we could sample everything. We’d have a nice
long dinner, crash at some Strand hotel, and return
for breakfast for probably the best sausage frittata
and squash muffins in Houston. Am I making myself clear?
One of the smartest moves in restaurateur history was
giving Liz Aguilar free reign in Mosquito’s kitchen.
This endears me to Jack and Jerry that much more. With
no experience in the restaurant business and with Aguilar
having no formal chef training but simply a knack for
suiting her own tastes, Jack and Jerry have created
a haven for Galveston’s budding hip population—both
in design and in content.
The space is pure charm, fitting nicely with Galveston’s
freshly renovated Strand architecture. It’s also
my dream house (removing the many tables of course)
with its huge windowpane windows, high ceilings, mustard
interior, bright hardwoods, and antique glass. And here’s
the rub: Not only are owners Jerry and Jack the most
personable duo since Will and Grace, they actually designed
the space themselves, right down to the Ergami art gracing
the walls.
“We
wanted a space where Galveston’s creative community
could showcase their work,” says co-owner Jerry
Bear, an attorney who still manages to fit in a busy
practice while playing host to his hungry guests. “We
moved in and fell in love with Galveston. The town is
filled with good people, and it’s becoming more
and more progressive. The only drawback was the lack
of dining choices.” Indeed, although the city by
the bay offers abundant seafood, much of it fried, as
well as doses of Mexican and barbecue, the eclectic/healthy
end of the spectrum was a tad lacking.
So Jerry and Jack put the pressure on Aguilar to relocate
from Houston, and turned Galveston’s culinary community
on its head: There isn’t a fryer on the premises,
and Aguilar came straight from the Daily Review Café.
Need I continue? That’s the pull of Mosquito Café.
Despite its modest location on 14th Street three blocks
east of Broadway, Mosquito Café is already a
mainstay with local artists, medical professionals,
and just about any other Galvestonian tired of hush
puppies and fried shrimp combos.
Starting with the salads, it’s clear this place
caters to more of a bohemian crowd than Old Guard Galvestonians.
Aguilar used to be a vegetarian, and though she claims
her love of bacon and pork has made her a wanton lover
of meat, the menu is peppered with pure vegan (no eggs,
no dairy) vegetarian dishes, such as bow-tie pasta with
pesto and pine nuts and roasted veggies in olive oil
and garlic. Other scrumptious vegetarian offerings were
the side dishes, such as couscous with orange essence,
almonds and currents, roasted tomatoes and lentils marinated
in three types of vinegar. Each sandwich is accompanied
by one of these side dishes; superb and originally seasoned,
any one of them could stand alone as the featured dish.
 My
favorite items vied from completely opposite ends of
the food chain. On one hand, I couldn’t resist
the Garden Delight salad ($6.25), its tasty sun-dried
tomato vinaigrette gently coating morsels of roasted
red peppers, asparagus, goat cheese, and Roma tomatoes.
My companions, both salad fanatics and no slouches in
the kitchen, were even more impressed with the Spinach
salad ($6.25) with walnuts, parmesan, and balsamic onions
in an herb walnut vinaigrette (although I personally
think it was one ingredient—grilled sweet potatoes
sautéed in balsamic vinegar—that most wowed
them).
As I basked in lettuce leaves, trying to distinguish
one compelling flavor from another, we all stared in
awe as the Mambo roasted pork sandwich took its spot
among its herbivorous neighbors. We had all agreed to
share the dishes—a rational way to conduct a food
review, yes, but frustrating when you’ve hit the
big Lotto. Very rarely do I see a sandwich that stands
up to its description. But this, with its modest listing
of ingredients, is a knockout. The pork is tender and
practically melts with each bite, on a foccacia that’s
firm yet unusually moist and light, all accented by
a luscious tropical fruit chutney.
For Galveston’s manly men, the Nueva York steak
sandwich ($8.95) can hold its own next to their giant
burgers, with a juicy, tender cut of beef seasoned with
mildly spicy chili mayonnaise.
We sampled just a smidgen of one of the locals’
favorites, the Killer Chicken ($6.95). A fitting name,
all three of us lapped up this pecan, celery, apples,
and herbed mayo/sour cream mixture, wishing we had ordered
a full serving.
Just for completeness sake, not because we wanted to,
we ordered the sausage frittata with Swiss chard and
potatoes. We were caught completely off guard by its
decadence. Claiming to be full, we briefly contemplated
saving it for my friend’s husband, a committed
frittata lover. In fact, we gave it serious consideration
for an entire 10 seconds—and after 60 there was
not a single crumb left.
There we were, three fat-ladies-waiting-to-happen, brimming
with smiles and gratitude and ready to head back to
the city, when Jerry gave us two compelling reasons
to stay just another minute: squash muffins and lemon
bars. Now, you may be thinking a restaurant with fresh-baked
pies and cakes may be slightly off-kilter touting lemon
bars and squash muffins (or at least a bit out of touch
with the chocolate-loving masses). But actually, these
men have hit on something big. Lines form out the door
to get a morning muffin on the way to the nearby medical
center, and the lemon bar…well, we managed to make
it the topic of conversation for the entire hour-ride
home to Houston.
The only thing that stumped us was why Jerry and Jack
chose such an unfortunate name, especially when there’s
nary a mosquito to be found. Unlike the oppressive,
stagnant environments in which mosquitoes thrive, the
café is bright, airy, a breath of Galveston sea
air on a good day. And unlike its blood-sucking namesake
that leaves you itching, but not for more, Mosquito
Café leaves you with a smile that smacks of satisfied
satiety. So why did these seemingly sane owners name
this charmer after a quirky little pest?
We were so engrossed with eating we forgot to ask.
Mosquito Café, 628 14th Street, Galveston, 409/763-1010.
Mon.–Wed. (lunch only), 7 a.m.–2 p.m.; Thu.–Sat.,
7 a.m.–10 p.m.; Sun., 8 a.m.–3 p.m.
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