described as “chic and sophisticated” on their website, the interior featuring leather banquets and southwestern flourishes with a bar that wraps around to the outdoors, the tropicale can easily be identified at a distance as the pink building on east amado road, a location just two few blocks off palm canyon drive making both the restaurant and it’s coral seas lounge a favorite of locals and tourists alike.
frequently found on lists of palm springs best restaurants, everything from the 2,000 square foot patio and a bargain happy hour to live entertainment and a menu of “world cusine” drawing in patrons of every race and persuasion seven nights a week, it was on the tail-end of the tropicale’s weekend brunch that a reservation was made for saturday afternoon, a 2pm arrival finding the patio still hopping though indoor seating was sparsely populated.
quickly confirming reservations on arrival, a choice of seats offered with the decision to sit outdoors based on plenty of shade and a temperature of around 82°f, it was after being led through the dark confines of the interior that a tiny two-top next to a loud group of eight men was offered, the waitress a pleasant middle-aged woman who continuously suggested “everything is great” to anyone within earshot while additionally making sure beer and cocktails were continuously filled.
passing on alcohol in favor of water, the weather too warm for coffee and the menu tilted more towards the lunch half of brunch than breakfast anyways, it was after having perused the options for several minutes that the waitress returned to suggest “coffee cake will be out shortly,” an order quickly placed much to her delight for “the best in town, my very favorite.”
unwillingly eavesdropping on the conversation one table over, light music playing and the television at the bar showing reruns of some old show instead of ncaa college football, it was with water sitting empty that the complimentary coffee cake arrived after perhaps ten more minutes of waiting, the runner simply dropping off the small wedge with no description before turning away to go only to be stopped by another man, presumably the manager, who made him aware of the empty glass which was then immediately filled.
guessing that the coffee cake changes seasonally, the flavors of pumpkin pie and cranberries both obvious amidst the moist base topped with crumbly sugar streusel, it was before two-bites were taken that the same runner once again appeared porting a large plate of boneless fried chicken stacked atop a fluffy waffle pocketed with bacon and big chunks of pepper, the maple syrup spilling over the edge of its container as the plate was set down but thankfully 100% pure and a nice compliment to both the spice of the jalapenos and the bitterness of the stewed collards.
impressed by the quality of the chicken, both thighs plump and juicy from a good brine with plenty of spice on both the skin and in the coating, it was with white gravy poured atop along with some syrup that the plate was slowly enjoyed, the $17 dish probably best shared by those with smaller appetites but thankfully not boxed to save room for dessert (as originally considered) since the block of donut bread pudding ordered to follow was an unmitigated disaster served luke-warm with an unpleasant granulated sugar texture compromising both the ice cream and the custard, more than 90% of the dish left uneaten but without compliant as the waitress voluntarily removed it from the bill.