Tampa / St. Pete's Day II
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Now We're Talking!
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Don't Feed Me Until Next Thursday
After a slow start, my itinerary for day two was perhaps a little overly ambitious, but it yielded one of my tastiest days in recent memory. I'm going with click-to-enlarge for day two, since the load time for this page is becoming somewhat formidable.
The (late) morning started with a tour of JeffB's Pan-Latin ground zero, the series of strip malls on Columbus just east of Dale Mabry. Owing to an alarm clock mishap I didn't have time to do a comprehensive survey, but I managed to hit a few spots. I started at Borinquen Meat Market, a small grocery with a butcher counter and a tiny hot table with a few lunch selections in the corner. It seemed a little early for the lunch rush, but there was a crowd clamoring for cafe con leche, of which I partook while strolling the strip, wandering into markets here and there.
Just as I drained my cup, I reached La Teresita, so I decided it was time for lunch. It's a charming little dive with pink walls, three U-shaped jetties posing as counters, and a stern fellow tending the joint who, with the addition of a surfboard and wide-brimmed hat, would make a fine Lt. Colonel Kilgore (even if it doesn't show in this particular photo). At 11:30, the stools were nearly full, displaying a delightful spectrum of leathery Floridians, native Spanish speakers of all types, retirees, power lunchers and sun visor clad tourists.
I started off with a bowl of the garbanzo soup, just one of a huge selection of eight or ten, mostly bean-based. It was thick, rich, and quite porky, with a nice chunk of fatty, melty belly sitting right on top.
I moved onto the Cuban, making my first mistake of the day... which wasn't that I ordered the Cuban, but that I ordered the large instead of the small. A lighter lunch would have paid dividends later that evening. In any case, based on my two-stop sample (the second in a moment), it appears that Cubans of the compressed rather than the composed variety dominate this particular drag. It was thin, crispy, meaty, melty and unexpectedly mayonnaisey. Is this typical? My Cuban experience is limited, but I don't recall encountering mayonnaise before today. I'm ordinarily a mayonnaise whore, but I think I would have preferred without. In any case, a minor complaint. Damn fine sandwich.
On my way back to the car, I fell into Florida Bakery to grab something to bring back for my ladylove on her lunch break. It gave me the opportunity to sample a second Cuban (a taste of hers, not another one... yow), and also to try Jeff's recommended Devil Crab. Florida Bakery's cases are stuffed with sweets and cakes of all kinds, as well as a wall of bread on the far left when you enter.
It's a pretty lively place around lunchtime. One woman arriving for her shift and finding a small crowd waiting at the counter went straight to pulling coffee without bothering to remove her purse. It remained on her shoulder until the wave had passed. I carried out my items and whisked them back to the hotel.
I have to say, I was pretty underwhelmed by Florida Bakery's Cuban. The bread was, as Jeff mentions above, much more doughy and lardy, as opposed to the crispy on the outside, fluffy on the inside style I've encountered everywhere else. If this is more typical of Miami, I think I prefer the Tampa version. Beyond the difference in bread, it was practically swimming in mayo and also included lettuce and tomato. Whether this is because Florida Bakery has a significantly different style, or because I stuck out like a sore thumb while ordering I can't say, but either way I was unimpressed.
Their Devil Crabs, however, were awesome. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn't this. The croquette was doughy, but the exterior was a deep golden brown and quite crumbly/crispy -- a very nice texture. The filling was way more potent than I expected, chock full of onions, garlic and tomato in addition to the requisite crab, but mostly it was about the
VINEGAR. Loads of it. I loved it. We destroyed the Devil Crabs. The Cuban went nearly untouched.
Fearing that I might not have the opportunity tomorrow, I scooted across the bay during my ladylove's afternoon session in search of smoked fish. On my way, I learned that seven-mile bridges are cool, that the high end of Wolfmother's lead singer's vocal range is a frustrating half step above mine, and that if my team played in the eyesore that is Tropicana Field, I'm not so sure I'd go to see them, either.
I loved Ted Peters right off the bat. Stepping out of the car, I walked smack into a wall of sweet smoke that dazed me such that I didn't notice I was having camera issues. Note to self: air conditioned cars and muggy Florida weather beget foggy lenses. Ted Peters is laid out in such a manner that its coziness belies its location right on top of a six-laner. I eschewed the air-conditioned dining room in favor of the great outdoors, where a counter is surrounded on three sides by an assortment of lacquered wooden tables and benches, all under cover. I grabbed a stool, perused the menu and asked the woman helping me about their "Fish Spread Sandwich". She disappeared into the kitchen and returned shortly thereafter with two small dishes, one with a taste of the fish spread and one with the German potato salad. The potato salad was simple and delicious, barely dressed with big planks of bacon. The fish spread was stupendous. Creamy, sweet and smoky all in one, it was made from the smoked mullet with mayonnaise and relish, like tuna salad's deeper, more complex, underappreciated cousin. I briefly considered ditching Plan A in favor of the spread, but decided to stick to my guns and order the smoked mullet. I was warned that it was possessed of a very intense flavor, it would require careful bone removal, and if this put me off I might consider the mahi mahi or salmon. I was, of course, undeterred (though intrigued by the mackerel), and I assured her I was entirely comfortable with bold, pointy fish.
And how. Wooooo, this was some good stuff. Embarrassingly, I have yet to visit Calumet Fisheries so I can't make any comparison, but damn, this was wonderful. Already feeling full-ish with dinner around the corner, I opted for the lunch plate which omitted the sides and gave me a single whole (well, headless) mullet, cleaved down the middle and smoked to a deep golden brown. I thought the warning of fishiness was vastly overblown. I can't imagine what anybody would find offensive about this, but then I can't imagine what anybody would find offensive about a lot of foods, so take that for what it's worth. I gave it just a touch of lemon, but it probably didn't even need that. This fish was a beautiful, beautiful thing and from this day hence I think I can safely say that every visit to Tampa (and perhaps Orlando) will include a visit to Ted Peters. Or maybe I've just never had good smoked fish before, which is entirely possible.
Dinner was, mercifully, later in the evening and a bit of a trek, giving me some time to digest. Though I had hoped to provide more of a counterpoint to Steve's visit, the call of the day boat was simply too irresistible, so we also fell into Rusty Bellies. The view and scent from the deck were airy and refreshing at sunset (a good thing, since our server left us languishing for nearly half an hour), and dinner was right on the money.
Again, not a broad base of experience, but they start you off with some damn fine hush puppies at this place.
Fresh seafood, simply prepared was clearly the theme for the day. We started with a half bucket of their peel-and-eat shrimp, and I could have stopped them right there, ordered two more full buckets and called it a night. They were steamed with just a touch of seasoning and swimming in clarified butter. I spritzed them with a bit of fresh lime juice, waved them over a bottle of tabasco, and they were perfect. My ladylove declared them the best shrimp she's tasted. I'm certainly not prepared to go that far, but they were eminently scarfable and I explained that it was probably the first time she was eating shrimp that hadn't been frozen at some point.
My ladylove went with a fried grouper sandwich, a total gimme. Crispy, moist fish with tartar sauce on a light, spongy bun. No frills, just awesome.
I chose a specialty that isn't listed on their online menu, and I'm afraid I don't recall the name. Essentially, it was one of their catches of the day, grilled or blackened, with mashed potatoes, your choice of side and sauce -- tomato caper, lemon dill or creamy citrus. Grouper, grilled, tomato caper, corn casserole. The grouper was solid, but I didn't enjoy it as much as the shrimp or my ladylove's sandwich. I found it a little tough, but not overly so, and I would've felt better about a fresh tomato sauce. But still quite good. Corn casserole? Big winner. Moist, mushy and sweet.
I must say, today Tampa exceeded my expectations. Big huge thanks to Jeff for guidance. I'm hoping to hit one or two of your places tomorrow, Beef, if I can fit anything in there. My stomach, I mean, not my schedule.
Dominic Armato
Dining Critic
The Arizona Republic and
azcentral.com