Soup’s On! A Pasta Fagioli Melee
As the mercury dropped a few days ago, and with near-freezing temps due today, it seemed like a good week for soup. And seeing as we hadn’t done Italian since last May, we somewhat randomly landed on pasta fagioli, a peasant dish that, translated, means “pasta and beans.” The original Italian pronunciation is pasta fah-JOH-lee, but Italian-Americans folk-etymoligized it into pasta fah-ZOOL, joining mani-GOT, bru-ZHOOT, and, my favorite, gaba-GOOL, among others. (I recommend saying these words with thumb and middle finger touching and hand moving lightly back and forth.) We hit two Italian restaurants — Bella’s Italian Cafe, a fixture in South Tampa whose 40th anniversary is this year (congrats!); and, on St. Pete Beach, Carino’s Northern Italian Cuisine, which has been around for decades but re-opened under new management last fall. BELLA’S ITALIAN CAFE At 6:45 on Tuesday, we scored what appeared to be the last parking spot in a sizable lot, which caused concerns about a wait time. We were relieved to be seated straight away, and opted for a small two-top in the lightly populated bar area. Bella’s was buzzing, at least for a Tuesday night. A yacht rock playlist poured from the speakers, although at medium volume. I had hoped to never hear “How Long (Has This Been Going On)” again. (Time out for trivia! Name the band that performed it? Answer at bottom.) Our server, Andrew, was terrific — upbeat and witty, helpful but not hovering. We ordered a Bowl of Pasta Fagioli ($11, Andrew requested two spoons) and — because man (and woman) cannot live on soup alone — we added a pasta dish, Ravioli Verde (with Bolognese, $25). Appearance The soup (shown in the top photo) looked thick, more like a stew. A heaping plate of thin spinach raviolis was coated in meat sauce. Texture and Taste The soup was so bean-forward it should’ve been called fagioli pasta. The small pieces of noodle made little impression. The other ingredients (onion, bacon, ham, celery, and tomato) had boiled down to invisibility, with bacon making its flavor presence known most (albeit mildly). The thick soup had a consistency similar to the beans in black beans and rice. As for the entree, the raviolis were long and delicate, different (in a good way) from most versions I’ve had. They were filled with a bit of spinach and a lot of cheese: ricotta and Swiss, with the Swiss standing out. The Bolognese was first-rate. Upon request, Andrew brought us a (small) bowl of it, and advised us to always ask for extra sauce when ordering in an Italian restaurant. CARINO’S NORTHERN ITALIAN CUISINE Another parking problem, this time in a small lot of a shopping center in the Blind Pass section of St. Pete Beach. We had to briefly wait for a Carino’s customer to pull out, then scored their spot right in front of the restaurant. The velvet ropes by the door made me grin. Our friends and frequent FFF confederates, Don and Linda, were already seated in the cozy, lightly populated dining room. (One of these days we’ll get to a restaurant before them.) Italian music and the usual rat-pack vocalists played at low volume. Our server — who will remain nameless and genderless as to not embarrass anyone — was more concerned with being a standup comedian. The server’s “jokes” were forced and rarely funny, and often interrupted our conversation. We ordered Pasta Fagioli ($10) and Pollo Parmigiana ($26). I got a Perroni ($7.75), Bonnie a glass of the house Chardonnay ($9). Appearance This pasta fagioli looked far different than the competition’s — more like what I consider soup. The entree looked like pretty much every other mondo dish of chicken parm, which is why it’s not pictured. Texture and Taste The pasta fagioli scored well on the comfort-food scale, and had the liquidity that its appearance promised. I could’ve even slurped if I chose to. I particularly appreciated the thread-like slips of pasta, which complemented the beans. Bits of tomato enhanced the flavor profile. The pollo parmigiana fell somewhere between mid- and top-level, and that’s a compliment. The chicken — two breasts — was tender, the sauce delicious, the parmesan in the right proportion. Bonnie took a small portion and I slayed the rest. And the Winner of the Pasta Fagioli Melee Is … Carino’s Northern Italian Cuisine. A split decision: I preferred Carino’s version of the soup, which is the ultimate deciding factor. The service could not have been more strongly tilted toward Bella’s. I admired Bella’s’ different approach to ravioli, and also the easy eatability of Carino’s’ chicken parm. Trivia Answer: Ace (song was released in 1974 and climbed to No. 3 on the Billboard singles chart. It has to be in the Yacht Rock Top 10.) And lastly, randomly, for you Caddyshack fans — remembering one of the funniest jokes I don’t quite get. Al Czervik to Judge Smails, “You buy a hat like this I bet you get a free bowl of soup.” Let me suggest a promotion for Bella’s: you come in with an ugly hat and a bowl of soup is on the house. (The newsboy cap I wore to Bella’s on Tuesday was far too dapper to qualify.)
Dough, Boy! A Clash Over Chicken and Dumplings
Prior to this week, the only time I’d eaten chicken and dumplings was way back in my college days, when five guys shared a ramshackle house off-campus. Bob Dixon was the only one who could cook, or was willing to cook, and on a few Sundays he made us a big ol’ pot of the savory stew. Ravenous for a home-cooked meal, we ate it like wolves. Fond memories of Dix’s chicken-and-dumplings popped into my head not long ago. An FFF was hatched. More or less the only place you find this traditional comfort food around here is in traditional American restaurants with a Southern twist. Our two contestants were easy to find: Cracker Barrel (aka Cracker Barrel Old Country Store) and PoFolks, a small chain that consists of five locations in Florida. CRACKER BARREL OLD COUNTRY STORE There hung the folksy original logo — the blasphemous modern one having been rolled out and quickly rolled back last summer. We arrived at 6:15 Tuesday, walked through the perfumed store, stopped at reception and were shown to a four-top in the dining room. Chris Stapleton played at comfortable volume on the house sound system. Our server, Natasha, was a Cracker Barrel vet — and one of her aims was to get her customers the most food possible for the least amount of money. It turned out to be enough grub to feed a family reunion. She coaxed us toward the 2-for-$19.99 special. Bonnie got the Barrel Cheeseburger to go along with my Chicken ‘n Dumplins (with corn and seasoned rice as sides) and cornbread. Natasha quickly delivered a basket of six biscuits — complimentary, not part of our dinner special. They were warm and yummy, but I held myself to one, not wanting to consume too much dough in advance of doughy dumplings. Appearance The white-ish food in a big white bowl was not terribly photogenic, nor was it terribly appetizing. More modern iterations of the dish include vegetables, herbs and spices. This one consisted of a mound of dumplings and chunks of white-meat chicken slathered in gravy. My guess is that this is how Cracker Barrel’s clientele prefers it. Taste and Texture The chicken-to-dumplings ratio skewed heavily toward the large morsels of dough. They were firm and essentially flavorless, which I think is how it’s supposed to be. The chicken came in large pieces, which I fork-cut. I didn’t detect much flavor here, either. That left the gravy, which was the right thickness but could’ve used a smidge of spice or herbs to liven it up. I’ll leave it like this: Cracker Barrel’s portion of chicken and dumplings did not conjure up sense-memories of Dix’s off-campus feasts. I left thinking that perhaps, several decades later, the dish just wasn’t my thing. We left with a take-home bag of six biscuits, four squares of tasty cornbread and a hunk of Double Chocolate Fudge Coca-Cola Cake, which was included in the special. As I write this, the cake sits in the fridge. It will get eaten. POFOLKS I’d driven by this restaurant on 34th Street in St. Pete innumerable times, but never eaten here. When we walked in at 7 on Wednesday, the young hostess greeted us cheerfully and showed us to our table with ironic faux-flourish. Being seated like royalty at an eatery called PoFolks got our visit off to a humorous start. Our server, Amy, was full of pep and wit. She had a down-home manner that aligned with the brand. I ordered Chicken N’ Dumplins ($11.99) with red-beans-and-rice and cabbage as sides, along with cornbread. Bonnie got a bowl of Navy Bean Soup ($4.99). As we waited for our meals, bursts of robust laughter emanated from the kitchen and near the reception stand. It didn’t bother us in the least. We were happy to be eating in a restaurant where the staff acted happily. Appearance All the food came at once, arrayed on the same plate. What a concept. The bowl of chicken and dumplings was smaller and a bit deeper than the competition’s. The chicken look pulled and shredded, an encouraging sign. Taste and Texture This nuthin-fancy version exuded a homey, comfort-food character. We speculated that the gravy might’ve been bolstered with chicken bullion because it had an ideal saltiness. The meal included dark- and white-meat chicken, a major plus for me. The dumplings were big enough to need cutting with a spoon, and each little lump paired nicely with a piece of bird and slurp of gravy. I ate it to the bottom of the bowl, with a little help from Bonnie. I stole some of her soup, which was scrumptious. I don’t remember ever having boiled cabbage as a side dish in a restaurant, but a tinge of bacon flavor made it an able accompaniment. The cornbread was so good that Bonnie ordered another piece to cap off the meal. Amy didn’t charge us. We finished everything and left without a bag. And the Winner of the Clash Over Chicken and Dumplings Is … PoFolks. Easy call. I’m glad we finally ate at this place that has stood at the corner of 34th Street and 22nd Avenue North since the mid-1990s.
The Best Stuff I Ate (at Restaurants) in 2025
The headline says all that needs to be said. I’ll spare you an overview and get right to it. We’ll start with the big ticket. BEST SPLURGE DINNER Elliott Aster The hottest restaurant in town has earned near-universal praise from critics, social media and word-of-mouth. For our visit in December, Elliott Aster lived up to its rep. We had the 8 oz. filet mignon and Mediterranean sea bream, a fish we’d never tried before, plus a couple of sides. The food was uniformly excellent, although we slightly preferred the fish, which was a more nuanced dish. The capacious space has a regal aura, but we felt right at home. Read More — the Whole FFF. BEST “I’M GLAD WE CHOSE THIS PLACE” MEAL Chimichangas at Pepe’s Cantina I’d long been guilty of thinking that the food at mid-priced Mexican restaurants was pretty much all at the same level — until we dug into these beasts: one carnitas (shredded pork) and one birria (shredded beef). The fried tortillas were stuffed well beyond expectation with marinated meat that was next-level scrumptious. Superb fixins added to the pleasure, and the house-made queso was icing on the cake. Pepe’s Cantina is now our go-to for Mexican. Read more. BEST (SORT OF) SANDWICHES I’D NEVER HEARD OF BEFORE Arepas at 1Chick 1Bro Cafe Bistro Arepas, a Venezuelan street food, consist of a round, flat corn cake stuffed with fillings. At 1Chick 1Bro, we ordered a trio of Mini Arepas — two chicken, one pork — and a full-sized Pabellon (shredded beef and other yummy stuff). The corn cake blended exquisitely with the insides, offering a blended flavor that was new to us. We slayed all four. Read more. BEST SUPPORTING ACT THAT STOLE THE SHOW Vegano Pinsa at Bonu’ Taverna Italiana While doing FFF fieldwork for tiramisu, we randomly ordered this specialty flatbread/pizza, and it immediately took over as the week’s headliner. Made with flour imported from Italy, the rustic crust was fantastic — this from a guy who usually finds pizza crust a waste of stomach space. Add the delectable melange of veggies on top and we enjoyed a meal to remember. Read more. BEST SPECIAL LUNCH SPECIAL Soho Sushi For 20 bucks, Bonnie and I sat down to this exceptional assortment of sushi on a Tuesday afternoon in April. It delivered a major surprise: I can’t tolerate cooked salmon, but I really dug the raw sashimi. The meal came with a choice of miso soup or ginger salad. Soho served us both. Read more. BEST TASTE OF JAMAICA Brown Stew Chicken at Island Flavors and Tings This place in a rundown strip mall in Gulfport had a warm, welcoming vibe. The brown stew chicken consisted entirely of thigh pieces, my fave. The velvety sauce, with a tinge of sweetness, proved a heavenly nectar. The meal came with rice & “peas” (actually beans) and a vegetable medley that retained a nice crisp. The enormous portion cost $10.95, and was served takeout from a cafeteria line. I enjoyed the atmosphere so much that I ate it there. And took plenty home. Read more. BEST NEW (TO ME) TAKE ON A CLASSIC Chicken Cacciatore at BellaBrava Unlike most chicken cacciatore I’ve eaten in restaurants — admittedly a small sample size — BellaBrava’s version came in a bowl with polenta rather than on a plate over pasta. The dark-meat bird fell apart in layers and the sauce had a farmhouse quality, but it was the creamy polenta that made this dish really show out. Read more. BEST MINI-BURGERS IN A NIGHTCLUB Sliders at Tryst I’d always known Tryst as more of a club than a restaurant, but its menu of mostly small plates includes several gems, including this Slider Trio — one beef burger, one pulled pork, one fried chicken with a maple Buffalo sauce. All were terrific, but the chicken won out. We ate in the 6 o’clock hour, well before the music volume got pumped up. Read more. BEST BIRD (ASIAN DIVISION) Crispy Duck at Pin Wok & Bowl The duck, rinsed with a lovely basil sauce, had rugged skin that gave way to sumptuous meat, perfectly cooked. The generous collection of veggies, with an expert level of crispiness, provided a salubrious flourish. Read more. BEST DESSERT THAT I HAD PREVIOUSLY AVOIDED Key Lime Pie at The Toasted Monkey FFF did not have a banner year in the dessert department, but this key lime pie turned me into a convert, however briefly. The Toasted Monkey makes it in-house and serves the pie in three smallish cubes rather than a single slice. The filling split the difference between bold and mellow. A graham-cracker crust, whipped cream, and crumbles of nuts and cinnamon sealed the deal. Read more. I reserve these best-of-year entries for local restaurants, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the apple fritters at Heavenly Donuts in Portland, Oregon. The It was the best sweet treat I had all year. Got Room For More? Here are some honorable mentions … Best Booze — The dry martini at Mandarin Hide. Best Beer (Local Craft, Draft) — The Golden Pilsner at Golden Isles Brewing Co. It was our first visit, and we enjoyed the service and the vibe. Best Wrapped App — The grilled pork summer rolls at Pho 813. Best Decadent Soup — The she-crab soup at Rick’s Reef. Best Salad That Didn’t Rely On Lettuce — The watermelon burrata salad at Tryst. Best Dumplings in the Year of the Snake — The pan-seared duck dumplings at Mangosteen. Best Nearer the Bone, the Sweeter the Meat — The pork ossobucco at Gratzi Italian Grille. Best Specialty Sandwich — The Brycer at Gateway Subs (Buffalo chicken salad with thin slices of Buffalo chicken on top). Best Fresh Fish Dishes a Half-Mile Apart — The red snapper at Madfish and Snapper’s, both on St. Pete Beach. This FFF was as close to a dead heat as it gets. Almost forgot: Happy New Year! And finally, appropos of
A Chimichanga Challenge!
Tuscon, Arizona, 1950s — a cook accidentally drops a burrito into a deep fryer and blurts out a mild Mexican-American swear word. Chimichanga! So goes the credible origin story of a dish that is regularly found on the menus of Mexican, Tex-Mex and Southwest-style restaurants in the U.S., but rarely in Mexico itself. Burritos have long been my go-to, but as near as I can remember, never a deep-fried burrito. So it’s high time, I guess. We ate our chimichangas at Carmelita’s Mexican Grill & Cantina in Dunedin and Pepe’s Cantina in St. Pete. A curious day-after-Christmas FFF, you say? Well, I couldn’t find any restaurants that serve goose. CARMELITA’S Our visit here came about by accident. We’d made reservations at a popular downtown-Dunedin restaurant, where we were to meet our friend Brett. As we drove west on Main Street, he called and said, with a perplexed laugh, “I can’t get there.” A parade had clogged traffic to the point that trying to get downtown was a fool’s errand. We had to pivot, and quickly settled on Carmelita’s. It was a Saturday night, and the place had a pretty good bustle going. The interior was decked out in Christmas-y decor. We slipped into a booth. As I sipped a Modelo draft and perused the menu, looking for something other than my usual, I landed on Chimichanga ($16.49). Thus an edition of Friday Food Fight was born. I ordered mine with pork filling. Appearance Pretty basic. This chimichanga looked considerably thinner than the burritos I’d had. I doubted that deep-frying would make them skinny. The lettuce on the plate was noticeably meager. I was pleased to see a healthy dollop of sour cream — sour cream I didn’t have to ask for, or pay for. Taste and Texture Our server had characterized the pork as “spicy.” It wasn’t. The shredded meat was juicy and tender — not stringy like some versions can be. The tortilla required a knife and fork, but I can’t say that the deep-frying added a markedly new dimension. The beans and rice were up to standard. I cleaned my plate amid lively conversation. PEPE’S CANTINA Located in a small shopping center in the Kenwood section of St. Pete, Pepe’s has been open since April. It’s the only Tampa Bay location of a growing chain with seven restaurants in Florida. The place had an impressive bustle going, certainly for a Monday night at 6:30. We sat in a booth and were instantly greeted by free chips and salsa. Our server, Dez, a young transplant from Connecticut, was a delightful presence. All smiles and energy, he oozed an I’m-glad-to-be-here vibe — glad to be serving people at a busy Mexican restaurant. In St. Pete, Florida, not Connecticut. Bonnie and I decided to each get our own Chimichanga — Carnitas, shredded pork ($19) for me; Birria, shredded beef ($20) for she. We planned to split them up. Appearance Umm, yeah! Dez told us proudly that the silken glaze covering these fat chimichangas was house-made queso. The salad of lettuce, salsa and guacamole made me smile, as did the sour cream, which came without having to ask. These beasts were stuffed well beyond expectation with marinated, shredded meat that was juicy and next-level delicious. We discussed which version we preferred and decided on the birria, by a narrow margin. With just the right level of fat, it reminded me of heavenly pot roast. Chunks of pork joined the shredded stuff in the carnitas. The meat was remarkably moist and tender, the polar opposite of the dry, ropey carnitas I’ve too often had at restaurants. The fixins — especially the bright salsa — took this next-level meal to the next level. The queso was the icing on the cake. The beans and rice provided a delectable complement. And the Winner of the Chimichanga Challenge Is … No suspense here. Pepe’s Cantina. Carmelita’s served me a perfectly adequate chimichanga. The Pepe’s pair knocked us out. I’ll sum it up this way. Between the excellent food and superior service, as well as the reasonable proximity to home, I see no reason to eat at any other Mexican restaurant in the Bay area — except, of course when I’m doing FFF field work. We’ve already begun raving about Pepe’s to our friends. If you, reader, are within striking distance, by all means eat there. A Final Thought: I hope all of you who observe Christmas had a lovely Christmas.
Spotlight: Dining at the Hottest Restaurant Ticket in Town
Without any factual basis to back this up, I’m comfortable saying that Elliott Aster in the Vinoy Resort is the hottest dining spot in town. We had originally planned to go last week, but the place was booked. That’s tends to happen with seven-month-old restaurants in four-star resorts. So we ended up landing a reservation at 5 p.m. Wednesday. Elliott Aster is not the type of place that has early bird specials. This week’s edition is another Spotlight feature, where we visit a restaurant and compare two contrasting dishes, then — just for fun — I pick a preference, not a winner. Just so you know, this is not an advertorial. Registry Tampa Bay picked up the tab — most of it, least it. I’m a little skittish about submitting the receipt. Atmosphere The name evokes the Gilded Age, and thankfully the restaurant doesn’t drip in gold. But Elliott Aster’s capacious interior certainly is majestic: tastefully elegant with impeccable lighting and sound design, and a ceiling high enough for a Steph Curry 3-pointer. About the name: “Elliott” honors the real estate developer who conceived of the original Vinoy, which opened on New Year’s Eve, 1925. “Aster” refers to a wildflower, native to Florida. Combine the two and you have a historical tribute. We chose to eat in the dining room behind the bar, and were seated in a quiet corner banquette. The service was impeccable but in no way stuffy. I’d like to think the days of condescending waiters is a thing of the past — other than in France. Dara was friendly, informal, and very helpful in painting word pictures of the dishes. We ordered the 8 oz. Chatel Farms Filet ($65); the Mediterranean Sea Bream ($46), a fish we’d never tried; Crispy Fingerling Potatoes and Grilled Broccolini ($12 each). Appearance There’s no getting around it — a boneless, 8-oz. piece of steak on a full-size white plate looks rather lonely. Because everything at Elliott Aster is a la carte, the sides came on their own plates. They were generous helpings, especially the potatoes. The bream (photo at top) made a more artful impression. It was covered in green herbs and a fennel-and-artichoke salad. Taste and Texture Served as a whole fish (sans the head, thank you), the bream was more meaty than flaky — which I appreciated — and had a flavor that bordered on bold, but not “fishy.” The skin offered a subtle crust that accented the flesh. The accompanying salad added further complexity. The dish was a tad oily, but not in an off-putting way. I asked Dara about it, and she said that’s because — ta-da — it includes olive oil. “Too much?” she asked casually. I dispensed with the hems and haws and replied, “Maybe a little.” She thanked me and explained that she likes to get feedback from diners to give to the kitchen. Hold up! What restaurant does this? Um, really good ones? While the menu did not say the filet mignon was Prime beef, all the other steaks were Prime. It was expertly wood-grilled medium rare, had an earthy flavor, and ate bigger than it looked. I’m not much for broccoli, but it was the only green vegetable on the menu. The generous pile consisted of long, thin stalks and small heads (does that make it “ini”?). The dish was dusted with garlic bread crumbs; a lemon vinaigrette added a nice zip. This was some good broccoli — excuse me, broccolini. The potatoes were crispy on the outside, appropriately mushy on the inside — and tasty. I asked Dara if the restaurant had sour cream. She paused, gave an uncertain look, and said, “mmm, let me check.” Dara came back a few minutes later with a small silver bowl of the stuff. “Did you have to go the supermarket?” I teased. No, she had foraged and found sour cream in the room-service kitchen. Like I said, the service was excellent. In Keeping with FFF Tradition, My Preference Between the Entrees Is … Mediterranean Sea Bream. It was something new, something different, a fish dish creatively conceived and prepared. There’s only so much you can do with a filet mignon other than season, cook and serve it well. Elliott Aster did all three.
A Showdown Between Specialty Sandwiches
Day after day in high school, I’d slap together two PB&Js on Wonder Bread, wrap them in wax paper and drop them in a brown paper bag — along with an apple and a sleeve of Chips Ahoy — before heading out the door. That started a lifetime of making my own sandwiches for lunch. My fondness for two pieces of bread with stuff in the middle has not dimmed, and I still generally make my own — although rarely PB&J. Now and then I like to go sandwich exploring to seek out tantalizing concepts at shops and restaurants. This week features specialty sandwiches at two reputable eateries — Gateway Subs (The Brycer) and Lonni’s Sandwiches (the Famous Sunny Bird). I picked them up on separate trips and brought them back to the FFF Lab + Photo Studio™. GATEWAY SUBS I embarked on my maiden voyage to Gateway Subs on Tuesday, mid-afternoon, the air delightfully crisp. My journey concluded when after five minutes I pulled into a strip mall on 4th Street North in St. Pete. Gateway opened in August 2021 in the Kenwood section of St. Pete and has expanded to six locations in the greater Tampa Bay area. Right inside the door, I faced a counter with a see-through plastic shield on top, behind which were two helpful sandwich specialists. No seating, strictly takeout. At the urging of a Registry Tampa Bay colleague, I got The Brycer (half-size, $9.50) on a toasted white roll. Its primary ingredient is Buffalo chicken salad. Appearance A very handsome 6-inch sandwich — stuffed, but not to the gills. A few thin slices of Buffalo chicken breast lay atop it all. An intriguing, potentially risky, add-on. Taste and Texture I’m not much for Buffalo flavor, but Gateway’s was mild and tangy, not overpowering like what you get on chicken wings. After the bun’s exterior crackle, it was soft and tender. I’d wondered if the slices of bird on top would render the sandwich over-chickened (and perhaps over-Buffalo’d), but the opposite was true — the slices added contrasting texture and complemented the salad, which was splendid. Delicate chunks of breast cozied up with crunchy pieces of celery and onion, all of it expertly mayo’d. A layer of lettuce had been sogged with B’s Spicy Ranch dressing. A blend of two peppers added some spicy heat and a tinge of sweetness. My Brycer was just this side of messy, a two-napkin affair. It was an ambitious sandwich with balanced flavors and textures. Complex, yet thoroughly accessible. LONNI’S SANDWICHES At around 11:30 a.m. on Wednesday, I called — yes, called — and ordered. The amiable woman I spoke to informed me that the Famous Sunny Bird has been the best-selling sandwich at Lonni’s for 35 years. The sandwich shop sits a amid a row of small storefronts on Central Avenue in St. Pete. I arrived at noon and luckily found a parking spot a block-and-a-half west. I waited in line for a few minutes, picked up my Famous Sunny Bird ($11.69) and exited to a sunny day of about 65 degrees. Appearance A majestic looking sandwich, with a generous pile of shaved turkey between two planks of Minnesota Wild Rice bread. I could see sprouts, which I hadn’t eaten in a while. Taste and Texture Although this was an open-wide sandwich, once I gained purchase with my mouth, the bread gave way easily — soft and fluffy, essentially crustless. The bird was luscious, with a slightly smoked flavor. Including a shmear of cream cheese was a cool twist. The sprouts provided a winning alternative to lettuce. The X factor was a layer of sunflower seeds, which added a nutty texture. The honey French dressing was a bit too forward, amplifying the sweetness. Although the sandwich looked like a beast, it was actually quite delicate. And the Winner of the Specialty Sandwich Showdown Is … The Brycer, Gateway Subs. Because this wasn’t really and apples-to-apples affair, my choice is even more a matter of sheer preference than usual. I liked and admired these sandwiches for their creativity, complexity and ultimate eatability. Because Tampa Bay is rife with restaurants and sandwich shops that have signature offerings, and I’m such a sandwichionado, you can expect more Specialty Sandwich Showdowns in the future.
Portland, OR vs. Tampa Bay in a Donut Dust-Up
Portland doesn’t have a signature dish, per se — like the Cuban sandwich or the cheesesteak — but it is known for donuts. The funky city — whose unofficial slogan is “Keep Portland Weird” — has 50 to 60 independently owned donut shops, according to my intensive research in the AI machine. Tampa Bay has about half that — with a population of 3.4 million vs. Portland’s 2.5 million. Most sources attribute Portland’s donut-centricity to the rise of Voodoo Doughnut, which opened in 2003 and became nationally known for its quirky, over-the-top creations. The common view now is that Voodoo’s spell has faded and it’s more of a tourist destination. I recently spent two weeks in Portland, my first visit there. This edition of Tampa Bay vs. The World, the first in quite a while, would seem to favor the visiting team. I didn’t want to distill the fight to one donut per side, so I picked up three at Heavenly Donuts, with six stores in the Northwest, two in Portland; and did the same at Fray’s Donut House, with two locations in St. Pete and one in Pinellas Park. I’ll rank the half-dozen at the end. HEAVENLY DONUTS I stopped in at around 2:30 on a typical November day here — 50-ish degrees, gray and drizzly. I was the only customer. Heavenly’s interior is as basic as it gets, and the counter person had a countenance similar to the weather. But the shelves were stocked, and that’s what mattered. Wanting to keep things basic for comparison’s sake, I ordered an apple fritter, a glazed donut and a jelly donut, then brought them back to our Airbnb. Apple Fritter As my grandmother used to say — goodness gracious! This was a brown, lumpy chunk of the Great Beyond. Who needs pearly gates and harp music? The glazed crust provided a crispy kickoff and pop of sweetness. The moist interior dough had the optimal density, but the real star was the apple filling, which was expertly proportioned and had the perfect mix of real fruit flavor and sweetness. This marvel set the bar extremely high. But who knows … Glazed Donut A delicate version, with a soft crust and airy interior that collapsed in my mouth and between my fingers. The glaze had staying power, its flavor holding on through entire bites. Jelly Donut (Lemon) On a whim I chose the lemon over raspberry, when ordinarilly I’d go with the latter. I wish I’d had a do-over. The lemon’s tartness was beyond my liking, and it left a sharp aftertaste. The jelly’s sheer mass made the donut crack on the bottom and turn into a mess. I didn’t finish it. FRAY’S DONUT HOUSE When I arrived at the St. Pete location on 16th Street North at 8:30 a.m. yesterday, it was a crisp 60 degrees, with a brilliant blue sky laced with gossamer clouds. The Asian man at the counter — I took him for one of the owners — greeted me with a smile and happily filled my order. So — a contrast to the Portland experience. I picked up an apple fritter, a glazed donut and a jelly donut (raspberry this time) and brought them back to the FFF Lab + Photo Studio™. As a fella who usually has a banana for breakfast, I was pleased to use this gig as an excuse to eat the better part of three pastries to start the day. Apple Fritter This version integrated the apple into the dough instead of having a pie-like filling in the middle. It was rustic pastry with a dark outer ring that added some welcome bonus crunch. A good, solid fritter. Glazed Donut This one was denser than the competition’s, with glaze that crumbled and didn’t have the same endurance. A good, solid glazed donut. Jelly Donut (Raspberry) The white frosting — appropriately crumbly — started things off with a familar layer of sweetness. The inner dough had a spot-on texture. It took me a few bites to reach the gooey stuff, but when my mouth arrived there it was treated to a raspberry flavor that deftly balanced tart and sweet. If I had my druthers, there would’ve been a bit more of it. Now We Rank Our Fritters and Donuts … 1 — Apple Fritter, Heavenly Donuts If this had been a pro-wrestling Battle Royal — and metaphorically speaking, it kind of is — the Heavenly fritter would’ve emerged victorious in the first minute. 2 — Raspberry Jelly Donut, Fray’s 3 — Apple Fritter, Fray’s I hadn’t eaten an apple fritter, let alone two, in eons. This much became apparent: I really dig apple fritters. 4 — Glazed Donut, Heavenly 5 — Glazed Donut, Fray’s 6 — Lemon Jelly Donut, Heavenly A clarification: If any of you readers are detail-oriented enough to wonder why the lead photo doesn’t match the pastry contestants, that’s because I wanted to infuse some color into the proceedings (and I knew my granddaughter would go for the sprinkles). I purchased the collection at Heavenly Donuts.
Two Versions of a Traditional (South) American Meal
Still have the taste of turkey, stuffing and fixins lingering in your mouth? Good. I hope you have plenty of leftovers. But for this FFF we’re veering away from a traditional American meal to a traditional Latin American one — arroz con pollo, which, translated from Spanish, means “rice with chicken.” I chose it, in part, because arroz con pollo is one of the few terms I remember from my 7th-grade Spanish class. (I never could get the hang of rolling the r‘s.) We found two Cuban restaurants that serve the dish: La Teresita, which has a flagship location in Tampa and one in Pinellas Park, and Habana Café in Gulfport. We hit both places with our friends Don and Linda. LA TERESITA It was another ho-hum autumn day in Pinellas Park — sunny, about 75 degrees — when we arrived at 6 p.m. on a Wednesday. The large dining area featured a kind of pergola in the middle, but we had our choice of spots so opted for a four-top next to a window. Our server was quick and efficient. We didn’t exchange introductions or pleasantries, which was fine by us. We hadn’t seen Don and Linda in a while, so we were too busy yappin’. I ordered my Arroz Con Pollo ($13.99) with black beans as a side, and got a Negro Modelo draft ($7.99). Appearance Wait — I ordered arroz con pollo. Where’s the chicken? … There it is, resting comfortably under a blanket of sides. I’d never seen arroz con pollo served with the bird on the bottom — not that I’m a connoisseur. The rice, a vibrant yellow, consisted of big, pulpy grains. Taste and Texture As I expected, it was a bone-in quarter chicken hidden under all that rice and beans. I had to do some digging to get my knife and fork in the right spot to extract some bites. In all, this presentation made for some tricky eating. Because La Teresita cooks the chicken and rice together, the bird was moist, but, somewhat surprisingly, it wasn’t exactly popping with flavor. The rice — rich with turmeric and juices from the chicken — claimed the starring role. Delicioso. The beans provided solid support. HABANA CAFE Situated on the corner of Gulfport Boulevard and 54th Street South, Habana Cafe cuts a fine figure from street view, especially at night. The place was moderately busy at 6:30 on a Friday. Our group of five, with Vicki joining, commandeered a table in the middle of the dining room. It was a bit cramped, but our quintet of old college friends didn’t care. A man sat on a stool in the corner crooning ballads in Spanish to backing tracks. He had a pleasing voice, but because the volume was running a little hot and the ceiling was high, we had to use our outside voices. I ordered Arroz Con Pollo a la Chorrera ($25.95), which, according to the AI machine, means, “brothy rice with chicken,” and is a specifically Cuban version of the dish. According the menu, the recipe includes beer, which was A-okay with me. It’s a weekly special, usually served on Fridays. (Still, it’s best to call in advance to make sure it’s available). Appearance I could fully see the quarter chicken — with a charred crust, it looked gorgeous. The side dish was congrí, a mixture of beans and rice, cooked together, presumably with broth. Taste and Texture The chicken was a marvel. The bone-in quarter surrendered to my fork. All I had to do was poke into any spot and pull out luscious pieces. The bones fell apart, making it remarkably easy to eat. I don’t know how the kitchen did the skin, but it made for a delightfully crispy addition. I like my beans and rice to come separately rather than constellated. This congrí was tasty enough but clung together more than I prefer. And the Winner of the Arroz Con Pollo Altercation Is … Habana Cafe. The chicken, which I won’t soon forget, won the day. La Teresita took the side-dish prize. Its rice-and-beans was a cut above. I usually don’t consider price in Friday Food Fight, but in this case it’s worth noting that Habana Cafe’s dish cost 85% more than La Teresita’s. So if you’re ballin’ on a budget …
The Great Pumpkin Dessert Hunt — 6 Treats (Ranked)
My guess is that most of you have already penciled in pumpkin pie on your Thanksgiving menu — more likely written it in pen, or if you’re like my family, had it engraved. So this week I’m taking a look at the broader spectrum of pumpkin desserts, ones that have actual pumpkin in them, not just pumpkin spice. I opted to feature independent bakeries as a contrast to the chain grocery stores I showcased in my column on apple pies a month ago. I called around to several places and was surprised that many did not have pumpkin offerings. And of the bakeries that did, only one had a variety. That turned out to be HaleLife, a vegan establishment. We went out on a recent afternoon and picked up goodies at four places, then brought them back to the FFF Lab + Photo Studio™, which also serves as our home. LA SEGUNDA BAKERY CAFE Pumpkin Muffin I called ahead and talked to Blue, who graciously set aside one of these, La Segunda’s only pumpkin treat (on this day). A formidable muffin, for sure — spot-on density; not dry, not crumbly, no quite moist enough; sweet but not overly so, with a pumpkin flavor that was more subtle than powerful. The hefty sugar crystals on top provided that familiar sweet, crunchy start. La Segunda has three other locations in Tampa and Ybor City. CASSIS MARKET Pumpkin Cookie Cassis does terrific cookies. Its chocolate chip is epic. This pumpkin model — I bought two — didn’t achieve that level, but it had all the earmarks of a solid treat. For starters, they were big. Another flavor joined the pumpkin, and I’m sorry but my taste buds aren’t fine-tuned enough to definitively tell you what. The combination worked, although these dense slabs could’ve been more moist. MAMA G’S GERMAN BAKERY & COFFEEHOUSE Pumpkin Danish Mmmmm. The flaky crust was the ideal intro to the lush pumpkin-pie-like filling in the middle. I made quick work of this delicate confection. I should’ve gotten a couple. Mama G’s has two locations in St. Pete and two in Sarasota. HALELIFE BAKERY Pumpkin Smores Cupcake, Pumpkin Cheesecake Donut, Pumpkin Chai Snickerdoodle Cookie I’m (obviously) not a vegan, which puts Halelife at something of a disadvantage. Jackie, the head pastry chef, served us at the counter, and told us that it takes a lot of care and imagination to make desserts without eggs, butter or milk products that “don’t taste like crap.” She absolutely succeeds. Her pumpkin confections sure had creative names. I’m not a cupcake fan, but I bought this one because it wasn’t brown. It surprised me with its blend of flavors and the big helping of cream that ran down into the middle and was criss-crossed with chocolate on top. I didn’t taste a whole lot of pumpkin, but it didn’t matter. The Pumpkin Cheesecake Donut had a thick glaze on top and cream in the middle. It was grainier than your everyday donut, and I didn’t detect much cheesecake flavor, but that didn’t matter either. The big cookie — my first ever snickerdoodle — was on par with a lot of conventional (non-vegan) cookies I’ve had. It was agreeably crumbly, had a balanced sweetness, and an earthy pumpkin flavor. I don’t what chai tastes like, so no comment. HaleLife has locations in north St. Pete and South Tampa. Now We Rank Our Pumpkin Desserts … 1 — Pumpkin Danish, Mama G’s 2 — Pumpkin Cookie, Cassis 3 — Pumpkin Chai Snickerdoodle Cookie, HaleLife 4 — Pumpkin Muffin — La Segunda 5 — Pumpkin Smores Cupcake, HaleLife 6 — Pumpkin Cheesecake Donut, HaleLife Take these rankings with a grain of … salt. I liked all of them, and would gladly eat each one outside the purview of Friday Food Fight. A Final Note: Most of you know this, but just in case — independent bakeries, unlike grocery chains, tend to change their offerings frequently, often by the day. So it’s best to call ahead to see what’s available — pumpkin or otherwise.
Chain vs. Local in a Thanksgiving Sandwich Skirmish
Thanksgiving’s still a couple weeks off, but you’re starting to taste it, right? Salivating in anticipation of the carved turkey and all those sides, especially the stuffing. Stuffing is what I live for this time of year. And gravy. My Thanksgiving dinner plates look like gravy bogs. Then, mmmm, leftovers. Sandwiches made of leftovers. It came to my attention a couple years ago that I don’t have to wait until the day after Thansgiving to eat a sandwich that includes turkey and stuffing, that I can get one at a restaurant — ahead of time. So this year I started looking in earnest. It took some doing, but I found a couple places: Firehouse Subs, a chain; and Brooklyn South, a tiny eatery in St. Pete’s Edge District. But wait. Would indulging in these pre-Thanskgiving sandwiches undermine the sanctity of leftovers two weeks hence? Would it somehow diminish them? This was a risk I was willing to take. Most of these specialty sandwiches feature cranberry sauce or some derivation of the fruit. I avoid cranberry like I do root canals. We brought the sandwiches back to the FFF Lab + Photo Studio™ and photographed them on a silver platter to afford them the proper dignity. FIREHOUSE SUBS Appearance I got the 8-inch sub ($12.62) rather than the 4-inch (whuh?) or 12-inch. At first it was a little odd to see the sacred post-Thanksgiving sandwich on a sub roll. But that didn’t last. It was too tempting to the eyes. The package also came with a wonderful add-on. Gravy. Let’s add punctuation. Gravy! In a styrofoam container. I asked for the cranberry sauce on the side, figuring I’d at least sample it. Taste and Texture The sub roll turned out to be just fine. It was soft and airy, and quickly compressed, making for easy bites — more of a basic housing than a vital ingredient. The sandwich ate neatly. It had carved white-meat turkey rather than deli-style, surprising for a sub shop. My biggest concern was the stuffing. Could a chain with a dozen locations in Tampa Bay put out a credible rendition? Yes it could. The stuff was moist and well-seasoned, traditional but with its own character. My second biggest concern was the gravy. Firehouse made the grade here, too. It was thick but not gloppy, flavorful but not too rich, and there was plenty of it. Ideal for dipping the sandwich. The crimson cranberry sauce had the consistency of jam. I took one small dip for thoroughness sake and dipped out. BROOKLYN SOUTH Brooklyn South is a mom ‘n’ pop shop, the kind of place that just might run out of certain offerings if its getting late. With that in mind, I called a couple of times in advance to make sure the sandwich was available. Karen, one of the owners, assured me they had the goods to make me a Day After Thanksgiving sandwich ($15). I popped in, paid and was back in the car in two minutes. Appearance Brooklyn South’s wrinkle was making its beast of a Thanksgiving sandwich with ciabatta bread. It contained deli turkey, a slight concern. Taste and Texture The ciabatta proved to be a major asset — a nice exterior crust leading to dense bread, then into the jackpot stuff. More than a mere housing. That the pile of turkey was deli-style hardly made a difference. Did it have the magic of the slices and pieces from Thanksgiving dinner? Of course not. But neither did the carved version at Firehouse. The stuffing had that comforting texture but its flavor could’ve been more pronounced. Brooklyn South’s sandwich features a cranberry-flavored cheese. After some chin-scratching, I okayed it but asked Karen to go easy. The cheese added a whisper of tang. And the Winner of the Thanksgiving Sandwich Skirmish Is … Brooklyn South’s Day After Thanksgiving Sandwich — with Firehouse Subs Gravy. Okay, so — yeah, that’s a cheat. But I’m sticking with it. One final observation about my first experience with restaurant Thanksgiving Sandwiches: There were no leftovers.
Beer Here! 4 Drafts at 4 Craft Breweries (Ranked)
I recall when craft breweries used to be hip — when the local scene was nascent and a handful of tasting rooms became go-to hangs for zythophiles. Remember when a crowd of 6,000 beer geeks in Tampa turned unruly during the release party for a coveted, limited-edition beer? I don’t often hit craft breweries anymore, but if our outing last Saturday was any indication, those boho days are well behind us. Local breweries look more like family parks than gathering spots for guys with long beards and beanies (except for the brewers themselves). The plan on Saturday was for me to drink a signature golden beer (lager, light ale or pilsner) at four breweries in St. Pete, hopping from one to the next. Bonnie, Vicki and David could have whatever they were having. Our stops were: 3 Daughters Brewing, Cage Brewing, Green Bench Brewing Company and Golden Isles Brewing Co. Do not expect punctilious zythological analysis forthcoming. I’m no beer snob — just a fella who always has bottles of Bud Light in the garage fridge and likes to drink local drafts, usually in restaurants. 3 DAUGHTERS (5 p.m.) Located in a converted warehouse in the Warehouse Arts District, the 3 Daughters complex also includes a large outdoor space with tables, chairs, cornhole and other games. Don and Linda met our quartet on a gorgeous, perfectly cloudless late afternoon. The place was just starting to get busy. Kids and dogs were in abundance. I ordered a pint of Beach Blonde Ale, which I’ve had many times, at the indoor bar. We convened outside to a circle of Adirondack chairs, which I’m fond of sitting in because they promote relaxation and they go well with drinking beer. I took a focused swallow and was immediately struck by how bold Beach Blonde is compared to my Bud Light. I knew it had some punch, but on other occasions I was probably too busy yapping to notice how much. Flavor — what a concept! The pint started to flag near the end. It could’ve used more staying power. CAGE BREWING (6 p.m.) Located on the busy corner of 1st Avenue South and 20th Street, Cage has a large outdoor courtyard covered in artificial turf. If it wasn’t for all the young adults socializing over libations, Cage could’ve passed for a particularly busy daycare center. Kids aplenty — most under age 5 — frolicked and squealed and ran around. I found this scene a bit of a surprise, seeing as Cage is known as the local haven for Grateful Dead tribute acts and associated Deadheads. I ordered a pint of C.B.R. American-style lager ($6) at the indoor bar. Bobby J bought the round. We joined three generations of the Jorgensen clan outside. (Raff, 3 months, chilled in his stroller — smiled if I poked his belly, never cried.) The beer had a crispy start, but lost its head in about 30 seconds, then lost its carbonation and was soon uncrispy. I left about a quarter of it in the glass after David had a splendid idea … DINNER BREAK (7 p.m.) … Vicki and David bade farewell. Bonnie and I forged on. GREEN BENCH BREWING (8:15) Located on a side street just north of Central Avenue in the Edge District, Green Bench’s lighted sign and brick exterior exuded an urban vibe. I’d go so far as to say it looked … hip. Somewhat miraculously, we pulled into a parking spot directly across the street from the place. The crowd was adult and fairly sparse, the music on low volume. Green Bench Brewing was calm. I commiserated with a woman behind the bar about what golden beer would best serve my purposes. She gave me three samples and I decided on the Postcard Pils (10 oz. $7.54), an American pilsner. We had a seat next to the open garage door and enjoyed the crisp night air. Resting in its sleek, logo-inscripted glass, the beer looked positively elegant. Much of the head dissipated quickly, but some remained. I could see bubbles. Postcard Pils had a touch of agreeable hoppiness (this from someone with low hops threshold). It added bite to an overall smooth-drinking beer. GOLDEN ISLE BREWING (9:30) Golden Isle opened at MLK Street and 30th Avenue North in May 2023. We’d driven by it many times but had never been. After briefly debating whether to stop or head home, we pulled into the lot. The converted gas station has an adjacent fenced courtyard. As soon as I walked inside, I felt a welcoming vibe. I told our bartenders —Karah and Kristen, both delightful — about my golden-beer hunt and we immediately got down to business picking out a type. Although only modestly buzzed, I was pretty beer’d out. They welcomed the challenge. I tried a few samples and chose the Golden Pilsner (10 oz., $5.25). More bubbles — floating upward. I was charmed by the first sip and enthusiastically drank the silky, fresh-tasting elixir amid lively conversations with the women behind the bar. It shook me out of my beer fatigue, and I briefly considered getting a second glass, but decided against it. We set out for home — Bonnie driving, as always. Onto the Rankings … 1 — Golden Pilser, Golden Isle 2 — Postcard Pils, Green Bench 3 — Beach Blonde Ale, 3 Daughters 4 — C.B.R., Cage Brewing My beer excursion was fun and flavorful, although I doubt I’ll engage in another any time soon. I’ll visit my craft breweries one at a time, thank you — and my next time will be Golden Isle. A Final Tip: If the point of a beer excursion is not to get hammered but to appreciate the beer, it’s probably best to order the 10-oz. pours. A Final Geek Thought: I repeatedly clicked on “Save Draft” while composing this column in WordPress, and it wasn’t until near the end that I made the connection.
Arepa Altercation: Two Versions of Venezuala’s Native Sandwich
Shame on me for sleeping on arepa this long. Seeing as you may have been snoozing as well, allow me to briefly describe this Venezuelan street-food staple: It’s a round, flat, thick(ish) corn cake, most often served as a wrap for sandwiches, with fillings that run a wide gamut: shredded beef, shredded chicken, roast pork, black beans, cheeses, eggs for breakfast versions, and plenty more. Prior to this week’s FFF, I’d never heard of arepa, let alone eaten it. That added a sense of discovery to our outings. We chose two small Venezuelan restaurants. The first was 11 Chicks Yummy Creations on the northern edge of downtown St. Pete. When we turned up at Alma Llanera Venezuelan Food in Pinellas Park at 5:30 Wednesday, a hand-written sign on the door read “Closed due to plumbing problems.” That required a course correction, so we hit 1Chick 1Bro Cafe Bistro in Gulfport the following afternoon. 11 CHICKS YUMMY CREATIONS We arrived at this cute place on the corner of MLK Street and 2nd Avenue North at 1:15 Tuesday with the sun shining through puffy clouds. It was about 80 degrees, still a bit too warm and bright to eat al fresco. Inside the small space, we sat at a two-top — one of a half-dozen — next to the open front door. A man working the counter handed us each a laminated menu. A woman hustled in the kitchen. We ordered two arepas: Asada (shredded beef, cheese, bacon, etc., $12.76) and Bao (Asian-style pork, spinach, $11.70) and I got a house-made Mango Juice ($4.95). The wait for the food — about a half-hour according to the time stamps on my photos — started to test my patience. Appearance The arepas arrived in Styrofoam containers, with the arepa itself split and stuffed to bursting. Both looked tantalizing, but the Bao was prettier, with its spinach leaves peaking out. The sandwiches were foil-wrapped in keeping with street-food tradition. Taste and Texture Yep, these were some yummy creations. Let’s start with the arepa itself. I became an instant fan. The corn cake’s gentle crust gave way to the doughy innards, but it didn’t crumble. The corn flavor was present but not overpowering. As far as fillings, the Asada had more going on. The shredded beef, generously portioned, was chewy but not tough, and fell halfway between dry and moist. (This was not a drippy sandwich.) The shredded cheese vanished quickly, some in my mouth, some in front of me (but not, thankfully, in my lap). I didn’t taste bacon, but I’ll take the restaurant’s word for it. The Bao featured pork chunks that were impressively tender. I didn’t catch much in the way of Asian flavor, but that was okay. The spinach proved an ideal partner. The mango juice came in a standard Styrofoam cup. Enhanced by cane sugar, the drink was thick and lovely. On suggestion: Beef up the napkins. The small, thin paper ones didn’t make the grade with sandwiches that are inherently messy. 1Chick 1Bro Cafe Bistro Basking in the first legit cool front of the season, we arrived at 1 Chick 1 Bro at 1:15 Thursday under azure skies, with dry air about 75 degrees. Ahhhhh. The restaurant occupies a funky, standalone building on a weathered stretch of 49th Street on the eastern fringe of Gulfport. Xiomaira, who owns the place with her brother Henry, was behind the counter. She was gracious and chatty, and gladly answered our questions, including a tutorial on how to pronounce her name: See-yo-My-Da (I hope I got it right). We ordered the trio of Mini Arepas (two chicken, one pork, $12.50) and a full-sized Pabellon (shredded beef, black beans, plantains, cheese and avocado, $13.99). I ordered a Mango fruit drink ($4.50) for comparison’s sake. I wasn’t surprised to discover that 1Chick 1 Bro has a familial relationship with 11Chicks — one that involves siblings and is a bit too complicated to break down here. Appearance Just like the menu described — the three little ones on a plate, the Pabellon in foil inside a Styrofoam container. The meals reached our table in a few minutes. Taste and Texture The arepa itself was nearly identical to the version at 11 Chicks — expected, given the family connection — but with a smidge less corn flavor. Pabellon: The beef was moist and easy to chew; the black beans and avocado added welcome flavor and textural dimensions. If you put a plate of plantains in front of me, I’d push it away, but I liked it when nestled inside this arepa. It added a dose of sweetness. The arepa broke apart after a bit, which led to a messy affair. I was too busy mmmmm‘ing to care. The mini-arepas made for more tidy consumption, and they traded the complexity found in the Pabellon for elegant simplicity. The chicken (Bonnie’s fave) was juicy and scrumptuous; the pork (my favorite) was similarly juicy, but had crispy ends. Now that’s kitchen finesse. The mango juice was thicker than that of 11 Chicks. The napkins were too skimpy. And the Winner of the Arepa Altercation Is … 1Chick 1 Bro Cafe Bistro. I tried to avoid doing a Food Fight featuring restaurants with family ties, but with Alma Llanera closed, and with one day before publication, I was left little choice. So I manned up and made my decision. As we’re wont to say here at HQ, there are no losers in Friday Food Fight. I’d gladly eat again at both places, and probably will.