By Gary J. Arzt

A little more then a decade ago, Steve Perricone had a dream. He wanted to convert a home, sitting on S. E. 10th Street, just west of Brickell Avenue (built in the early part of the 20th century) into a restaurant. I shan’t dwell on the results of that effort, save to say that the idea ‘collapsed around him.’ Undeterred, Steve left for Vermont, where he found and dismantled a barn built around 1700. The patina of age, of the beams, flooring and walls have added to the comfort, charm and hominess of Perricone’s - a restaurant that is filled with local businessmen, the idle rich and people passing through town on business or as tourists.
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By: Gary J. Arzt
My friend and associate, Erik Espinosa, and I flew into Pensacola one morning, at 10:30 AM. We were headed for Cordova Cigars for a promotional event for Erik’s 601, Cubao and Mi Barrio cigars. I was tagging along for the hell of it. Robbie Morton, the owner of Cordova, collected us at the airport and we went directly to his shop. We spent about an hour and forty-five minutes there, chatting with friends and talking shop, when Erik announced he was famished. Piling into Robbie’s vehicle we drove the single block to Jerry’s Cajun Café, standing on North Ninth Avenue and La Vista Avenue, in what appears to be an elegant old residence, with the requisite front porch.

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