Firefly
When one first visits the renowned Firefly, she might wonder how “romantic” can begin to describe an establishment in a strip mall across from the beach. But just like a treasure box, opening the giant oak doors reveals a wonderland of seductive art, leather, and lights.
Fly Me To The Moon (Sinatra)
The Vibe.
It doesn’t matter that we’re in the middle of the Redneck Riviera. Once you go through these doors, you feel like a bonafide member of the one percent. After all, President Obama and his family ate here about a decade ago.
A giant tree (like a small version of the one at Disney’s Animal Kingdom) dazzles with twinkling lights (fireflies). Actually, In many ways, Firefly reminds me of the kind of fantasy restaurant that might be at Walt Disney World (but with far fewer babies) in that it transports you to a faraway, magical place. The setup totally works and you get the feeling that you’re here to fall in love all over again.
Meanwhile, a tipsy woman at a table to the left of us accidentally smears the raspberry butter on the crisp white tablecloth.
What a Woman Should Wear: Little Black Dress
At The Table Next to Us: Flirty, talkative late 20s couple who acted like they just made their first half million.
Looks Like an Occasion for: Senior Prom
The Food.
Our past experiences with the steaks were so grand that we decided to eat sushi on this occasion instead.
And this is why we don’t ask men for advice.
Every steak I’ve ever had at Firefly was perfectly cooked, and I suppose it’s no wonder with its 1800-degree broiler. We tried four different sushi rolls and were satisfied but unexcited about the muted flavors. Even the wasabi was on the weak side. On the other hand, the she-crab soup matched up to the best of any other restaurant on the panhandle, with the server providing a fresh but slightly-too-slight pour of fresh sherry on top.
We topped off a very-gluttonous day with three desserts split between the three of us. Once I tried the perfect creme brulee, I had no use for the others yet they managed to disappear.
Don’t Miss: She-Crab Soup, Crème Brulee
The Service.
I honestly don’t think the hostesses like me here. Ever. There’s an inordinate amount of anxiety in the interaction, and I always feel like they are going to say that I don’t really have a reservation. Or that I’m a phony and haven’t really made it to the one percent. Or maybe they are just stressed and low on Xanax, who knows?
The contrast is striking, however, once you’re at your table. Firefly’s wait staff has the professionalism and je ne sais quoi of New York’s best restaurants of the 1990s. You’d never know that there’s a labor shortage in the industry. Most remarkable is the owner, Dave . A quick visit from him to our table quickly revealed his intense passion for perfection and expectation of the highest levels of service.
Level of Happiness
Some of my fondest eating memories in Panama City Beach in recent years are at Firefly. But this night was not one of those. It was our error and we deeply regretted that not even one of us ordered steak. But I’m loathe to take Firefly for granted. It really seriously upped the dining game in Panama City Beach, and remains deserving of its ridiculous number of regional and national awards.
Suggestion Box: We miss the early bird specials from days gone by, even though we almost never got there early enough. I bet some other fussy momma complains about this every single day.
Location: 535 N Richard Jackson Blvd, Panama City Beach
Hours: Tuesday – Sunday, opens at 5 pm
Contact: 850.249.3359 and Website/Reservations: Firefly
