The Clash of the Korean Fried Chicken Sandwiches
“How about Korean fried chicken?” asked my partner, accountant, driver, research assistant and lawfully wedded wife, from the kitchen table. “Sure, I’ll add it to the FFF master list,” I replied, wondering how Bonnie was tuned into a dish I’d barely heard of. (The audacity.) As it happened, her interest was piqued when she saw the Korean Fried Chicken Sandwich on the menu at Wild Child. Due to a series of unfortunate events involving veggie burgers, we had to move Korean fried chicken to the top of the list this week. Neither of us had ever eaten it. We found a competitor for Wild Child in bb.q Chicken in Pinellas Park. The brand first debuted in South Korea in 1995, and now has more than 250 locations in the U.S., three in Tampa Bay. Odd that I’d never heard of it. BB.Q CHICKEN Due to the unfortunate events, we’d endured two aborted restaurant sits on Monday, so didn’t arrive until just before 8. We pulled up to a new-looking building on U.S. 19 and 78th Avenue N. Inside, the restaurant exuded a fun, fast-casual vibe., even though the dining room was nearly empty. K-Pop girl-group videos played on the TVs and over the sound system, but the volume was reasonable. Our server, a polite and attentive young Asian fellow (I didn’t get his name), informed us that all of the fried chicken was cooked to order, so our Golden Original Sandwich ($9.95), which was actually three sliders, would take about 20 minutes. We added a Bulgogi Rice Bowl (which included chicken, $12.95) and an order of Fried Dumplings ($6.95). Appearance One look and I figured I was in for some serious crunch. Spicy Korean mayo was drizzled over the chunks of chicken. The rice bowl arrived first, and looked delectable. It was 8:05. I was hungry. Taste and Texture The bulgogi rice was delish, with tender chicken morsels and rice the right level of sticky. Peppers and scallions added some crackle. The sweet, decadent bulgogi sauce had a hint of tang. I asked for, and was granted, a small bowl of it so I could pour on some more. Onward to the sliders. Thick crusts always make me worry that the bird beneath will be dry. Such was not the case here. The combination of white-meat chicken and hefty crust made for some chewy bites — chewy in a good way. I hardly noticed the buns. The mayo provided some middling spice-heat, and I was glad I didn’t order the chicken spicy. WILD CHILD I made a reservation on Wednesday morning for that evening at 6:30, and it was good that I did. We drove around St. Pete’s Grand Central District hunting a parking spot, and finally scored one when another car pulled out onto Central Avenue. Wild Child’s large outdoor patio was full, so we sat in the small(ish) dining room, which was also packed. Our two-top was within arm’s length of other patrons. As per our custom, Bonnie sat on the banquette. The room’s boomy acoustics amplified the spirited chatter. Our table was long, so we had to lean in to talk. The host, Cassandra, was a delightful ball of energy in her Hello Kitty T-shirt. We ordered the Korean Fried Chicken Sandwich ($19), a Summer Cobb Gem Lettuce salad ($15), plus a Pinot Noir for Bonnie and a Negra Especial for me. Appearance From the thickness of the sandwich and its orange-ish sauce, I figured that a messy meal was in my future. The salad was colorful and alluring. The bacon chunks called to me. Taste and Texture I removed the fancy toothpick from the sandwich, carefully cut it in two, picked up half, opened wide — very wide — and took a bite. Mmmm. The chicken breast was thick and juicy. I didn’t detect a whole lot of crust, certainly when compared to that of bb.q. The sauce oozed liberally onto my hands. My best guess is that, per the menu, the sauce in question was kimchi mayo — but it wasn’t like any mayo I’d ever had. The sandwich also included some nice extras in shredded cabbage and house dill pickles, adding complexity to the flavor. The beast was tasty enough that I finished it. Right afterward, I hustled to the restroom to rinse off my fingers, and the rest of my hands — and parts of my wrists — all the while wondering, “How do people eat a sandwich this messy and only dab their fingers with a napkin?” The salad was a far neater eat, with hefty pieces of lettuce, charred corn, a generous helping of avocado, and other goodies, with the smokey bacon adding an excellent dimension. And the Winner of The Clash of the Korean Fried Chicken Sandwiches Is … Difficult to say. I’ve vacillated several times. Because we were forced to improvise this week’s matchup on the fly, we ended up at vastly different restaurants with vastly different takes on the sandwich. I enjoyed both. Not for nothin’, Wild Child’s came within 90 cents of costing twice as much as bb.q’s. We also really liked both of our considerably different secondary dishes. But enough waffling. The winner is … Wild Child … … for creativity. It maybe goes the other way if I was paying instead of Registry Tampa Bay. By the way: bb.q stands for “best of the best quality.”
Gotta Lotta Piccata (Chicken Edition)
In my nearly five years writing this column, I’ve steadily worked my way through the expansive array of Italian dishes — most of them coated in red sauce. In the interest of diversification, I’m turning to the lemon-butter sauce of piccata. It’s not my go-to, but this Northern Italian dish’s time has arrived. Our two contestants are: CD Roma Restaurant in St. Pete and La Dolce Vita Trattoria on St. Pete Beach. CD ROMA RESTAURANT I was passingly surprised that I’d never eaten at this family-owned institution, which has been around since 1988. That’s probably because I’m east side and CD Roma is west side, just a few blocks south of Tyrone Square Mall. The eatery was doing brisk business when we arrived at 6:30 Tuesday. The mid-sized dining room features muted colors, mostly different shades of brown, tables and booths, and has an open kitchen. Big screen TVs showed sports programming on mute. The music played so softly I couldn’t tell whether it was Dua Lipa or Tuvan throat singing — and I was okay with that. Bonnie and I chatted easily. We ordered Chicken Piccata ($21) and a Pear-a-Dice Salad (as in “paradise” not “pair of dice,” $14). We chose Vegetable Minestrone soup to go with the entree. Appearance I was pleased to see angel hair squiggling out from under the chicken breast. It had been quite some time since I had the skinny spaghetti. Taste and Texture The chicken checked all the boxes: lightly breaded, thin but not too thin, tender and moist. The sauce was lemon-forward but not overbearingly so, probably because its subtle butyraceous quality muted the tart citrus. The pasta could’ve been a bit more al dente, but it rolled nicely onto the fork and joined the chicken for many a satisfying bite. I dug the capers, though more for texture. The hefty salad contained a lot of good stuff — crisp pear slices, soft avocado, candied walnuts, little clumps of goat cheese — and it was coated in a punchy citrus vinaigrette. But the spring mix consisted of greens that were large, leafy and stalky. It was hard to assemble a bite that was small enough to comfortably insert into my mouth. I was concerned about getting poked in the eye with a stalk. LA DOLCE VITA TRATTORIA The restaurant occupies a low-slung, let’s call it modest, building on the east side of Gulf Boulevard. The red velvet ropes out front have faded to a blend of white and pink. At 6:30 Wednesday, we walked through an enclosed, empty patio, then into a space with two small(ish) dining rooms. White tablecloths matched the walls. A neon sign bathed the front room in a blue hue. We sat at four-top flanked by a banquette. Our Italian server, Nico — a tall, handsome lad — waited on us with a kind of subdued flourish, in keeping with the restaurant’s fine-dining vibe. We ordered Chicken Scallopine ($27.90) — after assurances that it’s the same as piccata — with penne pasta. We added a Caprese salad ($17.90) to start. I asked Nico for a ginger ale. He replied, politely, that he didn’t know what ginger ale is, and that the restaurant did not have it. Appearance The room’s relative dimness and blue cast made cell-phone photography difficult. I noticed that the chicken in this piccata/scallopine was not coated. Taste and Texture In my experience, all caprese salads are essentially the same — most of them are good, occasionally one is great. It all comes down to the tomato. This version was solid, with tomatoes more crispy than juicy. That’s to be expected, though, seeing as it’s virtually impossible to find a good tomato in Florida. I found the entree’s lemon-butter sauce to be more potent than that of CD Roma. I added sprinkles of parmesan cheese to tame some of the tartness. The chicken breast was thinner than the competition’s, and the lack of coating made its flavor (combined with the sauce) more bold and immediate. The penne had the al dente down pat. And the Winner of the Gotta Lotta Piccata, Chicken Edition Is … CD Roma. I (slightly) preferred CD Roma’s more comfort-food take than La Dolce Vita’s bolder version. And CD Roma’s meal proved an exceptional value.
Spotlight on Middle Grounds Grill: Fish v. Pork
News of a slow summer for restaurants apparently didn’t reach the beach. Middle Grounds Grill, a large establishment on Treasure Island, was packed last Saturday night. Once home to the popular Robbie’s Pancake House, Middle Grounds opened in 2007 and has maintained a strong reputation. This week’s edition is another in a series of Spotlight features, where we visit one restaurant, clock the vibe, eat a couple of entrees, and I pick a “winner” between the two. We arrived precisely at our 6:45 reservation time and joined our dinner companion, Bobby Dillon, who was parked at the bar. We were immediately seated at a four-top in a back dining room, where the conversation volume was lower and provided for easy three-way yapping. During a restroom trip, I spotted an abundance of large parties, suggesting that summer tourism season is faring well. Our server, Michele, was pleasant, unobtrusive and efficient. We ordered from the specials menu: Fresh Catch: Gulf Grouper, blackened ($50) and a Bone-in Pork Chop ($38). Each came with sides. I got a 3 Daughters Beach Blonde Ale ($8), which came in a 16-ounce can. (I told Michele that I would handle the pouring myself.) Appearance Both dishes were served and presented with utmost professionalism. Everything looked enticing. The generous portion of new potatoes that accompanied the pork chop called to me. Michele put the fish in front of Bonnie and the pork in front of me. Gender profiling? Nah. I kid. Taste and Texture Grouper Entree: This filet stood out for being more meaty than flaky — it didn’t easily fall apart into smaller pieces. I preferred it to the airier grouper filets that I generally have, which tend to be less flavorful. The blackening was relatively mild, and I would’ve preferred it to be zippier. The rice pilaf beneath the fish was solid, although I only managed to procure a few bites. I had a piece of broccoli — not my fave — and it was … broccoli. Pork Chop Entree: This was a big ol’ hunk of pork, cooked perfectly medium, tender and juicy with a nice sear. Big enough that we couldn’t quite finish it. I was prescient about the potatoes. These orbs were next-level, with just the right firmness and a light outer crisp. I ate them all. The asparagus stalks more than made the grade. We were enticed to split a Blueberry Cobbler ($5) with vanilla ice cream ($2.50), and were glad we did. I sneakily made sure mine was the last spoon standing. I am, after all, the (ahem) arbiter. And the Winner of the Pork Chop vs. Grouper Fresh Catch at Middle Grounds Grill Is … A tie. The updated FFF bylaws say that ties are permitted in Spotlight editions. It was encouraging to see an upscale restaurant on the beach so busy in mid-summer. And Middle Grounds is on the east side of Gulf Boulevard, so no Gulf view. Of course, I can’t say if other beach establishments were similarly busy on Saturday, but here’s a possible indicator: Bobby Dillon — who used to live here but now resides in California — walked St. Pete Beach that afternoon and said he’d never seen it so crowded.
Two Mid-Priced Steakhouses Square Off
I blinked and steaks cost 60, 70, 80 bucks and more at fine-dining restaurants. Not that I frequent such places, but I do check a lot of menus for my FFF research. I took note: We’d been priced out. Not long ago, I was riding shotgun south on 4th Street in St. Pete and spotted an Outback Steakhouse we’d driven by so many times it had become invisible. I wondered: What do steaks cost there? Are they any good? Finding a competitor was easy. LongHorn Steakhouse’s prices are all but identical to Outback’s. I opted for ribeye because Bonnie serves filet mignon on the rare occasion she cooks steak at home. OUTBACK STEAKHOUSE As we took the short drive to Outback on Monday at 6:30, Bonnie and I tried to remember the last time we’d eaten at the chain, which was founded in Tampa in 1988. We couldn’t recall, but figured it was probably during our son’s brief busboy tenure there. A long time ago. The restaurant’s vast interior had a drop ceiling and was decorated in various gradients of dark brown. But as a testament to Outback’s longevity, the place was doing solid business for a Monday. We sat at a comfortable booth next to a window. The menu includes three ribeyes, and after a brief discussion with our server, Ernest, I chose the 20-ounce Bone-In Ribeye (cooked medium), mercifully priced at $36.49. Unlike the a la carte sides at premium steakhouses, this meal included two. I chose a loaded baked potato (sans cheese) and broccoli. Bonnie got the Coconut Shrimp ($15.29). Appearance It checked all the boxes for a hearty steak dinner. I appreciated the steak(ish)-shaped cast-iron plate. Taste and Texture For starters, the cut was cooked perfectly, and that’s worth noting at a mid-priced steakhouse. It had a peppery sear that accented but didn’t overwhelm the robust flavor of meat, which was chewy in places but not tough. The outer parts were more marbled and thus more tender. The potato and vegetables were solid accompaniments, although I should have asked for extra sour cream. Bonnie poked in for a few bites of the steak, and we were left with a chunk that was too big to throw out. (I ate it pre-workout the next day.) LONGHORN STEAKHOUSE My dining partner David and I were met with a 10-minute wait at 7:15 on Wednesday at the Tyrone location. Who knew? I’d never been to a LongHorn Steakhouse. The large dining room was packed and hummin’. We sat at a large booth. Our young server, Seth, had that earnest, eager-to-please demeanor and crisp efficiency that you hope for in a waiter in a busy restaurant. I ordered the 20-ounce Outlaw Ribeye (bone-in) with a loaded baked potato (sans cheese, extra sour cream) and a house salad with ranch dressing ($35.79). David got the 7 Pepper Sirloin Salad ($19.49). Twelve-ounce Bud Light drafts were $3.49 a pop. Whut?! (I had three.) Appearance I didn’t bring along my Official FFF Tape Measure™, but this ribeye appeared a little larger and thinner than its Outback’s. And the bone was less prominent. Texture and Taste Like its counterpart’s, this ribeye was expertly cooked, with a shade more pink. I sliced off a piece from the outermost edge, and found the beef sublimely tender, with ideal marbling. As I worked my way toward the middle, the beef grew denser but maintained its tenderness. The sear was not peppery, but its salt level enhanced the potent beef flavor. The baked potato was as advertised, and the salad — a basic lettuce mix with diced tomatoes and cucumbers, slathered with ranch — did the job as a starter. And the Winner of the Mid-Priced Steakhouse Square-Off Is … LongHorn Steakhouse. A close decision. The side dishes evened out, and both places served lovely loaves of bread to kick off the dinners. Longhorn’s steak was consistently more tender throughout, and that’s what tipped the scales in its favor (although I give the nod to Outback’s peppery sear.) Just FYI: I checked the menu at Ruth’s Chris Steak House for a price comp: 16-ounce (boneless) Ribeye, $74; baked potato, $12; steak house salad, $14. That comes to a tidy $100 — and that’s without drinks. I’ll go out on a limb and wager that you can’t get a Bud Light draft for $3.49.
St. Pete vs. Tampa in an Ice Cream Scoop-Off
Sunday is National Ice Cream Day, and while I’m loathe to become tethered to National [Insert Name of Food] Days, I’ll make an exception here. Have you walked along a parking lot at 2:30 lately? Consider a scoop (or two) of the frozen concoction as a respite from the outdoor steam bath. Our two contestants are Bright Ice Scoop Shop (St. Pete) and Chill Bros. (Tampa). Both locally owned brands opened their first stores in 2019, and have grow to five locations. Each makes small-batch ice cream in its home city. So, a good matchup. I used a chocolate ice cream as my baseline, and then added another wildcard flavor at each place. I’ll rank them at the end. BRIGHT ICE We arrived at the flagship store on 5th Avenue North on Tuesday around 8, under a crepuscular sky. I ordered Deepest Darkest Chocolate Secret as Baseline #1. Blueberries With Cinnamon captured my fancy for Wildcard #1. The counter kid said he’d been told it tasted like blueberry pie. I asked him if he’d tried it. He said no. “You don’t sample your own ice cream?” I chided. A bit nonplussed, he replied, “I’ve never had blueberry pie.” I chose to have both scoops in a waffle bowl ($8.25 total). The mounds were huge. We ate inside, which is the only reasonable thing to do when it’s hovering around 90 outdoors. Appearance You saw the lead photo at top. Here’s closer look. Taste and Texture Baseline #1 was lusciously creamy, with the ideal level of dark-chocolate intensity. I stayed there for a few spoonfuls, but Wildcard #1 beckoned. The blueberry and cinnamon flavors were exquisitely balanced, each complementing the other. And then: actual blueberries — frozen, so they delivered a pop of fruitiness. I judiciously incorporated pieces of waffle cone. I had intended to eat my share of the double-scoop, bring it home in an air-conditioned vehicle and rush it to the freezer for later. Ah, the best laid plans … My share turned out to be all of it. CHILL BROS. It was 4:15 on Wednesday when we pulled up to the South Tampa store under full sun. I would’ve dashed inside but for the picture-taking. The white-walled interior was bright and airy with a fun, multi-colored swirl on the ceiling. Chill Bros. does not have standard chocolate on its menu, so I ordered Belgian Brownie as Baseline #2. I puzzled over Wildcard #2, tried a few mini-spoonfuls and finally decided on Guava Pastelito (named after a Cuban pastry). I got them in separate bowls ($6.85 each). We sat indoors next to the window. Appearance What good would words do? Taste and Texture Baseline #1 had an intrinsic advantage over the competition because it included brownies — some bits and a few chewy chunks. Delightful, as was the ice cream itself. Wildcard #2 had a complex flavor that I struggled to get my tastebuds around. I liked it, but thought it just a tad too sweet. The guava flavor was potent, and I encountered one bite that included an actual piece of the fruit. The flavor grew on me over time. Bonnie loved it, so between the two of us we polished off both ample scoops. To the Rankings! … 1 — Blueberries with Cinnamon, Wildcard #1, Bright Ice (a veritable revelation). 2 — Belgian Brownie, Baseline #2, Chill Bros. (benefited from the chunky X factor). 3 — Deepest Darkest Chocolate Secret, Baseline #3, Bright Ice (but for the brownie). 4 — Guava Pastelito, Wildcard #2, Chill Bros. (would’ve been Bonnie’s No. 1, but she does not vote). Enjoy National Ice Cream Day. And now that England and France are out of the World Cup — go Argentina!
A Set-To Over Super-Food Protein Shakes
I chose protein shakes for this week’s edition because I recently returned from a lengthy trip where I ate restaurant food for nearly every dinner, never passed up a sweet morning noon or night, drank my share of beers, got next-to-no exercise and have the extra poundage to prove it. A desideratum has arisen. Time to consume healthy stuff — hence, protein shakes aka smoothies aka superfood drinks. I chose two chains that are making inroads into Tampa Bay: Pure Green, with locations in Tampa and St. Pete; and Raining Berries, with two locations in Pinellas and four in Hillsborough. Late Thursday morning, after calling ahead to order at each place (I matched the shakes as best I could) we lit out for downtown St. Pete to pick them up quick-like, shoot pics and drink. The plan worked. PURE GREEN—11:32 A.M. The narrow, brightly lit space, with little more than a counter, has a grab-and-go vibe. My Purple Haze Superfood Smoothie (blueberries, strawberries, banana, spirulina, plant-based protein, coconut water, $10.25) was waiting for me in a fridge near the door. I paid, grabbed and went. RAINING BERRIES—11:43 A.M. We drove a half-mile west to this cafe. As soon as I walked in, the young woman at the counter handed me my Blueberry Fields shake (blueberries, strawberries, banana, almond butter, chocolate protein, oat milk, $12.29). I availed myself of the boho/comfy lounge area to shoot photos. TASTING AT HOME—12:18 While the drinks had a relatively similar color and overlapped some ingredients, they tasted quite different and had contrasting textures. Pure Green’s Purple Haze was darker and thinner, more tart and fruit-forward, with a medium graininess. It had an agreeable flavor, but was just challenging enough to remind you that you were drinking something healthy. Maybe it was the spirulina (just kidding; I had to look it up). Raining Berries’ Blueberry Fields was thicker, more shake-like and contained itty-bits that offered optional chewing. It was notably sweet — sweeter than any store-bought smoothie I can recall (which is not many). The flavors blended well, with the chocolate standing out slightly, and banana coming in second. And the Winner of the Set-To Over Superfood Protein Shakes Is … … Blueberry Fields By Raining Berries. A close one. The tasting process was more interesting than I anticipated. I alternated sips, and as I went along — slowly — the Blueberry Fields edged close to overly sweet and I began to appreciate the Purple Haze’s tartness more. The bout got closer as it went along, but ultimately the Blueberry Fields’ thicker texture gave it enough points to eke out a close decision. Kudos to both places for naming drinks after two of my beloved rock songs. I’d like to say that after finishing nearly all of two smoothies yesterday afternoon, I got fired up and hurried down to the gym to make good use of my protein blast …
Tampa Bay vs. Atlanta in a Fajitas Flare-Up
In the early 1900s, Mexican cowboys working in southern Texas were partially paid with crappy cuts of beef, including head, entrails (how’s that for an appetizing opener?) and … skirt steak. They marinated the meat, grilled it over an open fire, sliced it against the grain and wrapped it in flour tortillas. Thus the humble beginnings of the modern fajita (“little strip”). The dish found its way into South Texas restaurants in the 1960s and ’70s. It did not take long for fajitas to expand beyond the region because … when they are good, they are so damn good. We’re on a 17-day vacation so I took this opportunity to present another Tampa Bay vs. The World edition. Our contestants are: Casa 28 Mexican Grill in St. Pete and Superica in the ATL. CASA 28 MEXICAN GRILL The restaurant sits in a small strip mall on 28th Street just north of 22nd Avenue. Given the skull imagery on the windows, I feared a Dio de Los Muertos theme. Such was not the case. Instead, the interior is a mish-mash of bright colors (mostly orange and red), Mexican-themed art (Frida Kahlo: mandatory) and weird outliers — my favorite being a wall TV showing The Jetsons cartoons, which was a hoot. We arrived at 7 on a Sunday and sat at a small four-top. A number of families were occupying booths, giving Casa 28 a neighborhood feel. We ordered Mixed Chicken & Steak Fajitas ($19.99). (Free) chips and salsa started us off. Appearance The heaping cast-iron pan of fajitas arrived with a respectable sizzle. A side plate contained the customary yellow rice, refried beans, sour cream, lettuce and pico de gallo. Taste and Texture The main way to screw up fajitas is for the beef to be tough and/or the chicken to be dry. Our meal did not suffer from either, although I couldn’t taste much in the way of marinade. I mixed the chicken and beef, and crammed as much of the extras as the tortillas would hold. I ate three, while occasionally glimpsing at The Jetsons. The beans and rice more than made the grade. The tortillas were pleasantly chewy. My only (minor) complaint is that the sour cream, lettuce and pico de gallo came in small portions. I asked for extra pico and sour cream, which cost $1.50 each. SUPERICA The orange-striped sign sits next to a rusted bridge. The above photo makes Superica look like a crusty outpost. It’s anything but. A short walk from the Atlanta Beltline, the restaurant — the flagship of an 11-store chain in the Southeast — sits amid a busy area full of eateries, bars and shops. Lots of people wore USA Soccer shirts. At 6:30 on a Friday, we were greeted with an hour wait, but quickly scored seats at the bar just inside the door. The main dining room featured a giant screen showing concert videos, so a few Hall & Oates tunes leaked into my ears, which was okay by me. Our bartender was a groovy young dude, knowledgeable about the food and drink. We ordered Parilla Mixta ($35), which included Steak Arrachera and Chicken Tejano. Appearance Superica didn’t bother with the sizzle. The most noticeable aspect of this elevated presentation was the thick cuts of meat, neatly sliced. A roasted poblano pepper lay next to it. Taste and Texture These fajitas were particularly meat-forward. The chicken and especially the beef were next-level quality — full-on tender and juicy. The tortillas, made to order, were warm and hearty. There were plenty of fresh accouterments (including guacamole) to cram into the tortillas. I sliced pieces of pepper to add to the pile, although some grilled onions and peppers would’ve been preferable. I devoured a couple of the messy delights. And the Winner of the Tampa Bay vs. Atlanta Fajitas Flare-Up Is … Casa 28. I wrestled with this decision. Superica’s ingredients were superior, its take more modern, but we paid for it to the tune of thirty-five bucks. Casa 28 took a more traditional approach, and its inclusion of the standard onions and peppers was probably the deciding factor. Casa 28’s homey-yet-funky vibe made me relax, while Superica’s party-style energy got me pumped. At the bar, we got into a conversation with a young couple who lived locally, but had spent a month in St. Petersburg — during the summer. They had nothing but good things to say. All told, we had impressive meals at both places, and different types of fun at each.
A Brawl Over Biscuits and Gravy
When I first arrived in Florida decades ago, I’d never heard of biscuits and gravy. I soon found out it was a Southern thing — and apparently it still is. Just for grins, I checked the menus of several diners in and around my hometown in Rockland County, N.Y., in search of biscuits and gravy … Nope. Nada. Not even biscuits. Which, to my way of thinking, is a good thing. I’ll add here that, although I’ve tasted biscuits and gravy over the years, I’ve never taken to it. It screams cholesterol gut-bomb. So why, you ask, and am I featuring it in Friday Food Fight? Good question. Let’s see. Our two contestants are just a few blocks apart in St. Pete — Central Diner and Dads’ Kitchen. We decided to hit both on the same Tuesday morning. They proved to be a study in contrast. CENTRAL DINER We easily found a nearby parking spot on Central Avenue at 10:45. This heritage restaurant, which dates back nearly 50 years, has retro vibe, right down to a couple of cooks working the griddle just inside the door. The long, narrow space has four-top booths on both sides and a few tables. A pre-teen boy and what must’ve been his grandfather were engaged in an animated conversation — a heartening sight. Whitney Houston’s “How Will I Know” played on the sound system, at medium volume. I ordered Biscuits and Gravy ($11) with two eggs scrambled, and coffee. Appearance The meal came out in four minutes — fast, even by diner standards. I was quickly reminded that biscuits-and-gravy is not a photogenic dish. Pieces of sausage were visible in the beige stuff. Taste and Texture Biscuits fluffy. Gravy appropriately thick, but not overly so, and appropriately salty, but not overly so. I appreciated the sizeable bits of sausage, which added some meaty zip. I forgot to order my scrambled eggs soft, and they came out the opposite of that. I could even see brown marks. My bad. I ate about a third of the portion. I had more biscuits-and-gravy in my immediate future. DAD’S KITCHEN We drove a mile-and-a-half west on Central and lucked into a parking spot near the diner, which has been open since February. People were eating at picnic tables under rainbow umbrellas on the sidewalk. We chose to sit inside, where the walls were covered with clever, black-and-white art. (We touched; it was real.) At 11:30, Dad’s enjoyed a mini-rush. Problem was: only one server — for inside and out, which led to a fairly long wait. I can’t fault Josh, though. He was hustlin’, man, even broke into a trot a few times, all the while maintaining a cheery (and apologetic) manner. Here’s where I pause to mention a moment of serendipity: “How Will I Know” was playing over the system. I like the tune well enough, but twice in an hour? I ordered Biscuits & Gravy ($19.50) with two eggs over easy and bacon (which I asked to be cooked medium), and a coffee. Appearance Similar to that of Central Diner, but with enticing eggs and charred bacon. Taste and Texture The gravy was thicker and a smidge saltier than the competition’s, with similar sausage bits. Biscuits were up to standard. The fried eggs were perfect and played well with the gravy. The bacon was not cooked as I ordered, so I left it alone. And the Winner of the Brawl Over Biscuits and Gravy Is … Central Diner. It’s a challenge rating a dish you’re not favorably disposed toward. This FFF fieldwork did not change my opinion of biscuits and gravy. I don’t hate it, but it’s not something I’d order outside of a professional context — which is to say, probably never again. My guess is that if you’re a B&G fan, both of these versions would be A-OK. After five decades, Central Diner has its service game locked down. It seemed to me that Dad’s, open for four months, is still working out some of the kinks.
Specialty Sandwiches: A Tiff Over Tri-Tip
Tri-tip is trendy. At least in my world. I hadn’t heard of the small, triangle-shaped cut of beef until a March trip to California’s Central Coast, where tri-tip is a mainstay. I ate it in a barbecue place in San Luis Obispo and, candidly, wondered what the fuss was about. Then during my FFF research last week, I randomly encountered two restaurant menus that included a tri-tip sandwich. I was fated to give it another go. Our contestants are: Parkshore Grill in St. Pete and The Brinehouse in Safety Harbor. With tri-tip, I probably should’ve featured three restaurants. But I just didn’t have the time — and I’m not sure there is a third. PARKSHORE GRILL The Shaved Prime Tri-Tip Steak Sandwich ($23) is only served at lunch (’til 6). We made it a late one, arriving at 5:30 on a Thursday. The hostess walked us to the back dining room, and we wrangled a table next to the window. The dining rooms were beginning to fill up, most likely for dinner service. Our server, Trevor, was attentive and efficient, and didn’t betray a hint of disappointment at having a table of two seniors splitting a lunch. Appearance The sandwich was … not exactly small — more like, compact. The parmesan fries sat in a fan of paper inside a silver container. A refined presentation refined, especially for a sandwich. Taste and Texture Tri-tip has been described as a cross between a steak and a roast, and I’d say that’s pretty on the nose. The beef had a robust flavor and, while tender(ish), it required a measure of jaw work. The bread was perfect — a bit of crunch on the outside, soft beneath. Carmelized onions were a welcome addition. The creamy Boursin cheese had melted to the consistency of mayo, which made for a drippy sandwich that required me to make use of the cloth napkin between bites. All told, this tri-trip sandwich was a no-fuss, straight-ahead affair that hit all the right notes. The fries earned good grades for balancing crisp and potato flavor, and keeping the parmesan subtle. Bonnie had a few bites, but otherwise I easily polished off the meal. THE BRINEHOUSE We nearly always do our FFF fieldwork on weekdays, but upcoming travel made Friday the optimal day schedule-wise. The upshot was that it took 20 minutes to find a parking spot in downtown Safety Harbor at 6:15. The Brinehouse has an interesting concept. It has the feel of a barbecue restaurant, but instead of smoking its meats, they’re brined and marinated, then finished off on a wood-burning grill. Our server, Elaine, was a pro. After a brief phatic exchange, we got to the menu, which she knew inside out, as well as the beers and wine. Elaine informed us that the brine includes dried coffee. I ordered The Steak Rustler ($18) — “grilled tri-tip, tobacco onions, poblano peppers, plum tomatoes, pimento cheese spread and smoked paprika aioli on a Brioche bun.” Ambitious. I chose Mama’s Macaroni Salad as a side, and added an extra side of Gorgonzola Mac-n-Cheese ($7.50). For libations, I got a Stiegel Goldbrau Lager draft, Bonnie a Three Thieves Chardonnay (both $7.50). Appearance The hefty meal was served BBQ-style. The sandwich stood out for its thickness. Three slices of crisp dill pickle on the serving tray were an enticing touch. Taste and Texture The sandwich was a messy monster. I asked Elaine for an extra stack of paper napkins. The tri-tip was more thickly cut than that of Parkshore Grill, with straightforward, sapid beef that didn’t announce its brined-ness, although I’m not sure what that would’ve meant. Suffice to say it was damn good meat. A lesser version might’ve gotten lost amid the other ingredients. The poblano peppers were a nice touch, but overall the Steak Rustler would’ve benefited by omitting an ingredient or two. It had a lot going on. I nearly finished the beast, and that was while paying considerable attention to the sides, both of which were top-drawer. And the Winner of the Tri-Tip Tilt Is … Parkshore Grill. I’m split on this decision. I very much liked both sandwiches, but in the end the simplicity of Parkshore Grill’s won out. That said, The Brinehouse outdistanced Parkshore for the sheer volume of quality food it served for a similar price. But in the end this is a competition between tri-tip sandwiches, and thus the St. Pete restaurant edges out a win.
On the Waterfront: Spotlight on Salt Shack
Registry Tampa Bay poll respondents — you’ve been heard. When asked which type of dining experience you prefer, nearly three-quarters of you chose “waterfront.” We took that to mean you also would like to read about it right here in FFF. Ask and ye shall get. This week I’m shining a Spotlight on Salt Shack on the Bay, which sits next to Tampa Bay just south of where the Gandy Bridge meets land, in a spot unofficially called Rattlesnake Point. It’s a massive restaurant complex — all under huge roofs and umbrellas that line a narrow “beach” next to the waterfront. None of the customer areas are air-conditioned. The restaurant’s capacity is a whopping 546. Arrival Salt Shack was hummin’ when we showed up at 6:45 Tuesday — a Tuesday. We queued up briefly, then were immediately shown to a high-top in a covered bar area with a lovely view of Tampa Bay. The evening, still and warm, pushed the edges of my comfort zone. Our server, an energetic young fellow named Parker, brought each of us (me, Bonnie, Vicki) a draft beer in a plastic cup. I am not a fan of plastic cups. The brew quickly grew warm, so I asked Parker if the wine glasses were in fact glass, and if they were, would he mind bringing me one in which to pour my beer. He gladly obliged. We ordered a Fresh Fish Basket (grouper) with fries ($20) and a Jerk Pulled Pork Sandwich with a side Caesar salad ($15.74). Vicki got Shack Style Calamari Rings ($12.50). Salt Shack had gotten even more busy, but the symphony of boisterous conversation wafted into the night air, and we were able to talk easily. Eat, Drink, Gab Grouper nuggets sat atop the fries. This fish, lightly breaded and deep-fried in the usual beach-restaurant style, was tender and mild. I dipped pieces by hand in the house-made tartar sauce (a force of habit), then realized they were mighty tasty on their own. The pulled pork sandwich came open-faced, the meat covered with the house jicama slaw. I’d had it here before and wasn’t crazy about the stuff, so I pulled it off and set it aside. The shredded pork, while tender, was generic. I did not detect any Jamaican seasoning. The jerk aspect was left to the Bajan BBQ sauce, which mixed a tinge of sweetness with a modicum of heat. This is a Spotlight edition and not a competition as such — but for FFF posterity’s sake I’ll choose my favorite of the two dishes … Fish Basket. A table overlooking the water, a few drinks, fish nuggets — that set the mood for plenty of storytelling and laughs among our trio. And we were treated to a stunning sunset. A final note: Salt Shack is well located — 15 minutes from downtown Tampa, 20 from downtown St. Pete, and 30 from Clearwater.
A Game of Chicken — Fast Food, Not Fried
KFC, Popeyes, Church’s, Chick-fil-A, Bojangles, Dave’s Hot Chicken, PDQ, Raising Canes — all of them chains that focus on fried chicken in some form or fashion. I’m not looking for fried chicken this week. Give me some fast-food bird that’s grilled. I thought of two places off the top of my head, both of which I’ve eaten at multiple times: Yaya’s Flame-Broiled Chicken and Pollo Tropical. YAYA’S FLAME-BROILED CHICKEN Yaya’s used to be one of my go-to’s, back when it had several Tampa Bay locations. The brand was founded in 1985 in Seminole, but moved operations to Michigan at some point. The chain contracted over time, and I effectively stopped going. I was ready for a revisit. It was a warm and muggy night amid many warm and muggy nights to come when we arrived at the St. Pete location on Roosevelt Boulevard at 7:45 Tuesday. I ordered a Three-Piece Dinner (breast, thigh, leg, $13.99) with mac-and-cheese and corn & peppers as my sides. The counter guy handed me my meal a minute later. That seemed a little too fast. Appearance Like the Yaya’s chicken I remembered — medium-sized (⭐️)* pieces , with an attractive char on the outside. The dinner came with a round piece of pita bread and honey butter, just like the old days. Taste and Texture For me, the baseline test of any chicken dinner is how the breast rates on the dry-to-juicy meter. This one was neither, but tilted toward moist. The charred skin added extra flavor and a bit of crunch. The restaurant’s marinade, made of a “secret blend of natural herbs and spices,” has always appealed to me, but I’m at a loss to describe it here. Let’s go with … yum. The succulent thigh was the star attraction. I ate it with my hands, down to the bones. The mac-and-cheese was a yeoman’s version that did the trick. The corn & peppers side was more ambitious, and I had mixed feelings about it. The generous piece of pita was warm and hearty. Together with the honey butter, it hit me with me with a flash of flavor déjà vu. POLLO TROPICAL No sooner do I write a mopey line about the many warm and muggy nights to come than a front rolls through and the weather turns comfortable and breezy. A brief respite, but I’ll take it. That’s how it was when we arrived at the Pinellas Park location just before 7 on Wednesday. Alas, this Pollo Tropical does not have outdoor seating (that I could see) and, besides, it was a little too windy for eating chicken. Azalea, the counter person, was a feisty, funny Latina — a native of Miami, where the Pollo Tropical was founded in 1988. She was perfectly on brand. I ordered the Half-Chicken Platter with black beans and yellow rice ($10.29), plus a Strawberry Lemonade ($3.79). It took a few minutes for our number to be called. As we waited at a two-top near the window, I sipped on the drink, which was first-rate (not too sweet). Appearance Everything as hoped for: a generous helping of chicken, with pieces that were not bloated. The yellow rice had peas and small pieces of carrot in it (⭐️). I quickly disposed of the dinner roll; I find them useless, a waste of stomach space. Taste and Texture Delicious. And, for good measure, scrumptious. The marinade, a blend of citrus and spices, graced the chicken with a subtle Caribbean flavor. The bird was tender, juicy and flavorful through each piece. I even gnawed every last morsel from the wing. The black beans and rice were top-shelf, the equal of versions I’ve had at Cuban restaurants run by Cubans. It was a big meal. I took some home, because I wanted a second stab at it. And the Winner of the Game of Chicken — Fast Food, Not Fried Is … Pollo Tropical. “I have nothing but good things to say about this dinner,” I said to Bonnie as I continued to eat well past sated, purely for flavor. By the way, my decision does not demean my meal at Yaya’s, which I very much enjoyed. Although value didn’t factor into my call, it’s worth mentioning. A more-than-substantial meal for a little over 10 bucks? Pretty much unheard of — especially one that’s as good as Pollo Tropical’s. I was left marveling at how it could be fast food. Just so ya know: Pollo Tropical in Pinellas Park has a drive-thru. * I use the ⭐️ emoji to express approval for a particular detail. A gold star, if you will.
A Ravioli Rave-Up
I’ve never been much for ravioli in my adult years — probably because of one too many cans of Chef Boyardee during my youth. Ravioli isn’t part of Bonnie’s home-cooking repertoire, either. But here we are, trying fancy versions at two Italian restaurants: Bavaro’s Pizza Napoletana & Pastoria — with locations in Tampa (the flagship), St. Pete, Clearwater and Sarasota — and Da Sesto Italiano Ristorante e Vino in Pinellas Park. BAVARO’S PIZZA NAPOLETANA & PASTARIA At 6:45 Tuesday, we turned west on Central Avenue in St. Pete and lucked into a parking spot on the same (900) block as the restaurant. A few tables on the sidewalk were occupied, but the FFF team has reached the time of year when we eat indoors under air. The small(ish) dining room, about three-quarters full, was outfitted in different shades of brown. We were seated at a four-top near the window. Our server Bella (a recent graduate of USF’s journalism program) exuded kindness. We ordered Ravioli Al Formaggio ($24) and added sausage ($9). As a starter, we got a Strawberry Burrata Salad ($16, a special). Appearance The cornucopia of colors in the salad complemented the uniformly orange hue of the entree. The sausage, rather than coming in separate links or slices, was blended into the sauce in chunks. Taste and Texture Bonnie and I attacked the salad like fiends. We emitted many mmmmm‘s. The slight bitterness of the arugula blended beautifully with pops of sweetness from the strawberries, the saltiness of the lush cheese, and a bit of extra saltiness from pistachios. Myriad textures, too — from creamy to crunchy. The salad was dressed with just the right measure of balsamic glaze. A small slice of hearty (not-crusty) bread was a welcome add-on. We slayed the whole shebang — fast. Adding sausage to the ravioli’s vodka sauce was a good choice. The meat provided some heft and a bit of spicy heat to the velvety elixir that had a hint of sweetness. The pasta, nicely al dente, was rather flat — as in, not very stuffed. I couldn’t detect much cheese (mozzarella, parmigiano reggiano and ricotta, per the menu) inside the raviolis. But that didn’t dampen my enjoyment (too much). All told, it was a tasty Italian entree. Bonnie had a few bites and I finished the rest. DA SESTO ITALIANO RISTORANTE E VINO At 6:45 Wednesday, just inside the door, we were greeted by a this fella: ➡️ Da Sesto, which opened in 2007 and moved to its current location on 66th Street 10 years later, is set up as the kind place where one imagines Frank holding court with his Rat Pack retinue in a private room and mobsters raising a ruckus at a big table. None of that happened during our visit. This kind of mob theme starts with … darkness. The host showed us to a two-top in a dimly lit back dining room. The tablecloth was black. The napkins were cloth. Our server, Diandra, dressed head-to-toe in black, was all smiles and eager to please. We ordered Ravioli di Formaggio Gorgonzola e Pera (Pear & Gorgonzola Ravioli, $33), which came with a house salad. Sausage was not available so we added an order of Meatballs (2 for $15). Appearance Tuesday’s orange, Wednesday’s yellow. And red with the meatballs. Overall, ravioli is not a particularly photogenic dish. Taste and Texture DaSesto’s “saffron cream sauce” was thick, satiny and salt-forward — all told, quite rich. The raviolis — larger and thicker than those at Bavaro’s — were amply stuffed, but try as I might I could not detect pear flavor. Perhaps it’s supposed to be that way, but I would’ve appreciated some pear on the palette. It could’ve added a little brightness. The fall-apart meatballs, which had a kind of grainy texture, bathed in a tasty red sauce. The salad — a mix of greens, cucumber slices and tomato wedges — came heavily dressed with balsamic glaze. Little pools of it lay on the bottom of the bowl after we finished. And the Winner of the Ravioli Rave-Up Is … Bavaro’s. An easy decision.