The Hawaiian grouper sandwich at Hula Bay, Tampa.
Is it a good thing when a side order and dipping sauces overshadow the sandwich you’ve ordered at a restaurant you’re eating at for the first time? The glass-half-full answer is of course, that experiencing any sort of gustatory joy is a worthy achievement, even if it’s the consumption of a pile of petal-cut fries and some spicy sweet and sour sauce. Another point of view (roughly) parallels the old saw that one will often return to an eatery with poor service if the food is outstanding, but superb service will not attract return visits if the food is unremarkable. I can’t imagine saying to myself: “Gee, the fries at that place are really good — let’s go there!”
Because the fries at Hula Bay, located deep in South Tampa off Westshore Boulevard near MacDill Air Force Base, are really superb. As you can tell, the analogy with “service” is imperfect, but I hope you get my point. The place has much besides the fries to recommend it for a return visit (not the least of which is a great rum-runner, that staple of waterfront Florida dining and drinking). And the fried grouper nuggets are dipped in beer and crushed cornflakes before their swim in the oil. Outstanding, and accompanied by more of that delicious deep-red sweet and sour sauce. In hindsight, I probably should’ve used that sauce on my sandwich instead of the lime tartar sauce (house-made, according to our server, for what that’s worth; the cole slaw is also “made to order”). Continue reading
The Uptowner Cafe, in its prime.
It’s with a heavy heart that I share the news that The Uptowner Cafe, the independently-owned sandwich shop I wrote about so lovingly last month, has closed.
The writing on the wall was there for anyone willing to see it. The scarcity of business was the biggest hint that all was not well. Located directly below my office, The Uptowner was the kind of eatery where nary a frill could be found. It was a simple place that sold well-crafted, simple sandwiches. It was a favorite of mine and my colleagues partly because it reliable and cheap, but most of all because it was fast — this because there was rarely a line to wait in. On any given weekday, you were as likely to run into one of the 48 employees of Threespot as you were any of the other 600,000 residents of the District of Columbia. Continue reading
The Dude, from Each Peach Market
Salami, ham, hot capicola, mozzarella, arugula, tomato, and banana peppers
Among the retailers that define a mature urban enclave — a dry cleaner, a watering hole, a coffee shop, a drugstore — none is more crucial than the corner grocery. It’s a place to grab a bulb of garlic on the quick, a baguette at sunrise, or a bottle of wine (or pint of ice cream) after a long day. Convenience and quality come at a cost, of course, but no neighborhood is truly complete without one.
Residents of Mount Pleasant, in Northwest D.C., are lucky for a lot of reasons unrelated to their skyrocketing property values. The Raven is one of the District’s great dives, and the long-standing Heller’s is a D.C. legend for good reason. But while many hoods around the capital can boast a nice bar and good bakery, none other has a local grocery quite like Each Peach Market. Continue reading
Made from the best stuff on Earth, the lobster roll at Thurston’s Lobster Pound
The culinary principle that the best meals start with the best ingredients — garbage in, garbage out, you might call it — applies to a much greater extent to steak tartare or trout amandine than it does to a sandwich. Sandwiches, at least the good ones, are inherently greater than the sum of their parts. They rely on technique, proportion, construction, and contrasts of flavor, texture, and temperature. By and large, getting these things right matters far more than whether a cheesesteak is made with shaved truffles and sliced Kobe beef or grocery store sirloin. Continue reading
A trip to the beach generally means a grouper sandwich — at least, for me, and when I’m in Florida. May 17 marked my daughter Julia’s first-ever beach trip, which, being a native Floridian, puts her a little behind the curve at 5 months of age. I myself never saw a body of salt water until I was eight. Growing up in Ohio also limited my exposure to seafood in a really tangible way; I thrived on Red Lobster and whatever my mom could cook up at home (which actually was usually pretty tasty, featuring perch, cod, halibut, and the like at various points). Nevertheless… Continue reading