Ah, the best laid plans …

This week’s FFF was supposed to pit hanger vs. hanger, but a wrench got thrown into the works. As we put in our order at Wild Child, the server informed us that the hanger steak on the menu had been changed to skirt.

This was early Thursday evening, too late in the game to find another place to get a hanger steak. So we’re pivoting to skirt vs. hanger — in this case the Hangar Steak at The Hangar Restaurant & Flight Lounge at Albert Whitted Airport. Our server assured me that its offering was indeed a hanger steak. Got that?

Fortunately, the cuts are fairly similar. Both are “flat steaks” from a similar part of the animal. They’re lauded for a potent, beefy flavor, and their pronounced graininess.

I don’t often eat steak, and when I do I prefer not knowing what part of the cow it comes from. So much for that. In my perfect world, steak would not come from a cow at all. It would just be … steak.

THE HANGAR

Tuesday, 4 p.m., a perfect postcard afternoon, so we chose a table on the covered balcony overlooking the runway. I wore a sweater that I really didn’t need. After sitting for about five minutes, I was never so glad to hear the guttural roar of a single-engine airplane.

That’s because The Hangar was running a playlist that should’ve been titled “History’s Most Annoying Holiday Hits,” most of which were culled from the middle of last century. The plane engine mercifully drowned the music out, but not for long. I admit to being Grinchy when it comes to Christmas music. Bonnie gave me a wry grin and said, “You’re just a grumpy old man,” to which I replied, “This crap would make me grumpy no matter what age I was.” Okay, rant over.

We decided to split our Hangar Steak ($24) and have it cooked medium rare. It came with fries and chimichurri sauce. We added a soup of the day: chicken and vegetable.

Appearance

A hefty slab of beef sat atop a bed of fries, which was topped by avocado-forward chimichurri. Because I’d been off steak for quite some time, and because I had skipped lunch, I was eager to dig in.

Texture and Taste

The steak was, as promised, rich and beefy. It was tender in places and chewy in others — but not to the extent that it was a problem. I homed in on the pieces that had the most outer char, which were more cooked and had extra graininess. Bonnie gravitated to the rarer slices in the middle. We made a good steak-eating team, and easily polished it off.

The fries were crispier than I prefer, and got cold quickly. The chimichurri was exemplary. I could see julienned radish mixed with the the avocado, but this topping had some type of magic dust that helped it transcend the sum of its parts. The chimichurri made each bite of steak better. I wished there was more of it.

The soup, which we got before the main course, was more hearty and flavorful than we expected.

All told, we enjoyed a satisfying meal — music notwithstanding.

WILD CHILD

It had dropped into the mid 60s by 5:30 Thursday, so we opted to eat indoors rather than in the courtyard. A mistake. The smallish dining room wraps around a very busy bar, with the open kitchen adjacent. All the tables were occupied by young folks. Conversation bounced off the walls. Shakes and clangs and the occasional BAM pounced on us from the bar and kitchen.

Layer on a hipsterized playlist ranging from ’80s new wave to Ethiopian jazz, and you’ve got the makings for quite a din. A burdensome din. An almost ruinous din. I had to lean over our two-top to have a conversation with Bonnie. Hey, I understand that Wild Child, situated in St. Pete’s Grand Central district, is not my scene. I’d never been there, so had no expectation of  quiet dinner for two. But still. Loud, man, one of the loudest restaurants I’ve ever been in.

I ordered my skirt (formerly known as hanger) steak ($35) medium, and we added a Tuna Tostada appetizer ($17).

Appearance

The plate had a lot going on. So did the menu description. Slices of skirt steak atop a white-ish puree, a couple of other glistening sauces, broccoli, potatoes.

Texture and Taste

Wild Child’s skirt steak was similar to Tuesday’s hanger, but I could detect a subtle difference: The skirt had a milder flavor, and made less of an impression. The meat — somewhat chewy, but not disagreeably so — sat on a helping of parsnip puree, a ubiquitous white concoction that dominated the texture. It had an innocuous taste, and smothered the meat, stunting its flavor.

The potato wedges were tasty, as was the big stalk of broccoli

While I mostly enjoyed my meal, this steak dish was hampered by over-reach. There was just too much going on. A simpler, more steak-forward presentation would have suited me better.

Kudos to the appetizer. The tender tuna chunks were sharpened by lime-pickled onions, and the sweetish sauce included finely ground peanuts.

Who Takes the Hanger vs. Skirt Steak Title?

The Hangar.

Its unfussy presentation accentuated the steak, which had a richer flavor than its competitor’s.

Each place’s atmosphere gave me agita for different reasons. But I’d ultimately choose The Hangar’s cheesy Holiday music over the racket at Wild Child. Let me repeat: I’m of an age where clamorous restaurants no longer work for me. The young folk sitting in the dining room seemed fine with it.