Mad Beach Craft Brewing, Madeira Beach, FL

Ordinarily, the only thing that appeals to me less than wading through the slow-moving human wall of tourons and navigating the painful pay-station parking in John's Pass Village is being chained up in a Super Wal-Mart on Black Friday. Still, I have occasionally made the sacrifice to get my fix of smoked fish spread at Waltz Fish Shak or a lobster roll at The Boardwalk Grill. I don’t know whether to be thrilled or agonized by the fact that I now have added incentive to do so.

Mad Beach Brewing Company opened in October of 2014 as a taphouse only, featuring an eclectic selection of house-brewed craft beers, ales, ciders and local wine. In late December of 2015, it morphed into full-blown brew pub with the addition of chef Tyson Williams, formerly of the Baystar Restaurant Group.

The venue is cavernous, boisterous and industrial-chic, with miles of stainless bars, long communal tables and four-tops. This is not a romantic date-night destination or a place to rendezvous for serious conversation. With its multiple jumbo flat screen TVs, pool tables, air hockey, dart boards, corn-hole, giant Jenga, live music and more going on, it’s a veritable Chuck E. Cheese for grown-ups where the “littles” are also welcome (a kids’ menu is available). Being a restaurant that is both adult-oriented and family-friendly is a fine line to walk, but Mad Beach Craft Brewing Company admirably manages it.

The menu offers Caribbean and southern inspired pub and comfort food classics - beer-infused whenever it makes sense, which is always a good idea as far as I’m concerned. Appetizers include escalated versions of several pub staples like craft beer cheese dip, Buffalo wings, sliders, pulled pork nachos and the particularly hearty and homey Tots Poutine (crunchy, seasoned tots topped with melting cheese curds, house made stout gravy and fried sage).

Sandwiches are lumberjack sized, range in price from $8 burgers to $15 for locally sourced grouper, and are served on sweet Cuban-style coca rolls. My fried grouper selection was a real stunner – what had to be close to 8 ounces of the flaky fish was delicately breaded with a roll in seasoned flour, a dip in buttermilk and light dredge in more flour. Topped with Swiss cheese and nestled atop a bed of arugula and cilantro crema, it was one of the finest I’ve ever wrapped my lips around. Still, it may have been trumped by my better half’s $9 selection of The Beer Belly – house brined roasted pork belly, bacon, arugula, tomato, more of the crema, guava jelly and beer battered onion rings piled onto another of the sweet, pillowy buns. In his words, “the best sandwich ever created by man”, this nefariously decadent beast would be best served with a sidecar of Lipitor. Then, for those who scoff at danger and laugh in the face of arterial plaque, there’s the Jelly Donut Burger – a beef patty sandwiched between two glazed donuts with raspberry jelly, bacon and smoked cheddar. You can’t make this stuff up.

Similarly, the BBQ pulled pork sandwich is worth the calories. Marinated in ale (but, of course!), roasted, shredded into juicy tendrils and tossed in mango-rum-scotch bonnet barbecue sauce, the end result is heaped atop a salted pretzel roll and lavished with sharp cheddar and slaw.

All of this decadence notwithstanding, there are options available for the health conscious. In the interest of journalistic reporting, I sampled the lightest of the four available entrees on my second visit – Square Grouper. Wrapped in parchment and roasted with herbs and veggies, it was cooked to moist perfection. The accompaniment of fluffy green tea infused rice studded with pineapple bits and coconut, redolent with the scent of cilantro and ginger kept me from getting as sulky as I usually do when I try to watch my calories in a restaurant.

Let’s talk sides. Although there are far greater injustices in the universe, chomping into an onion ring and having the not-fully-cooked scalding center slide out and slap me on the chin is one First World Problem that never fails to make me inordinately cranky. Second degree burns need not be feared here, however. Battered in a combo of four ales, Mad Beach’s crunchy O-rings yield easily to the tooth while remaining solidly encased in their crusty exterior.

Southern Style Sweet Potato Casserole will make you wonder how you ever got through life without it. Laced with butter, brown sugar, cinnamon and house brewed yam ale, the indulgence factor is ratcheted into to the “OMG You DIDN’T” category by way of pecan praline and toasted marshmallows. Easily doubles as dessert.

One might also consider Fire Roasted Jalapeno Mac & Cheese. It’s ridiculous. Fat, corkscrew pasta noodles slurp up the Mornay sauce they’re lolling in along with bacon and roasted pepper bits. Topped with a bed of cheddar, a sprinkling of toasted breadcrumbs and a bacon rosette, the result is a study in American pasta sensuality.

And then came Peanut Butter Cup Bread Pudding.

Presenting a surprisingly subtle and adult-like flavor, this dessert combines barley and wheat from the brewhouse mixed with bread chunks, chocolate, peanut butter and cinnamon-vanilla custard. Ice cream, whipped cream and chocolate syrup are all piled atop it, however, lest you forget your inner child. Not a peanut butter fan? Key Lime Crème Brulee and a Toasted Marshmallow Banana Split are also available.

Good times, good beer and good food make me a fan of this Mad Beach fun spot.

www.madbeachbrewing.com



My blog entries contain the unmitigated, and sometimes unforgiving, dining truths and perceptions I experience as an ordinary restaurant patron. Every meal I post about has been fully paid for by one of the participating members of my personal dining party. I do not engage in the gratis blogger freebie dining events I'm constantly invited to attend and never will. If I ooze font-like love for a restaurant in my blog, it's because they totally earned it…not because they gave me free food or knew I was going to share the experience on the internet.

Hog Island Fish Camp, Dunedin, FL

As a southerner and a casual seafood restaurant devotee, my heart always beats a little faster when a place bills itself as a “fish camp”. Fish camps sprang up along the riverbanks of the southeastern United States in the ‘30s and ‘40s in the form of rustic sheds where anglers could purchase bait, rent tackle, and then later convene with other area fisherman to clean and fry their catches (and hang out with the boys, of course). At some point, an opportunity was recognized and larger camps began offering pavilion-style seating, drinks and side dishes to their patrons. Over the years, the term “fish camp” has morphed into a term used to describe an affordable restaurant specializing in heaping servings of fried fish and southern comfort food…and what’s not to love about that?

Located in the building formerly occupied by Sam’s Fresh Seafood, the vibe at Hog Island is convivial and rustic with plenty of repurposed wood, trophy fish nailed to the walls and directional signs in case you didn’t leave a trail of breadcrumbs when you drove up from Key West.

All of this, plus a cold beer and a fried grouper sandwich, would be all I needed to make my life complete. But there’s so much more to this unassuming restaurant. The menu cuts a broader swathe than one might expect, offering over 20 craft beers on tap, cocktails and an extensive selection of wines (by the glass and bottle) to satisfy every taste and budget. Then there’s the food.

A trio of house made spreads (pimento cheese, smoked mullet and smoked salmon) proved to be an excellent choice for staving off hunger pangs while perusing the menu.

On my first visit, my party and I sampled locally sourced hogfish (both fried and blackened) with better than average hand cut frites and crispy cole slaw; feather-lightly breaded salt and pepper fried oysters; and a mound of juicy, prepared to order buttermilk fried chicken dinner that was SO worth the 30 minute wait the menu warned us about. “Fried” is the word du jour at Hog Island, so don’t get crazy and try to count calories here. You can always make an attempt at damage control by eating salad later.

Salt and Pepper Fried Hogfish

All side dishes sampled elicited raves – especially the dense, cast iron skillet corn bread studded with bacon bits. Remarkable. Similarly, sweet, butter pan fried (again) corn set everyone’s imaginary tails to wagging along with a trough of smoky collard greens liberally peppered with pork morsels.  Hush puppies were light, airy and non-greasy.

While the generous sandwich and entrée portions (most come with two sides) will be more than most bellies can handle in one sitting, you don’t want to miss an opportunity to tuck into the hearty, tomato broth-based Bay Bottom Chowder packed with scallops, shrimp and fish. It’s a “must-try” and practically a meal in itself.

Red meat lovers need not despair…there are plenty of menu option for you, including hanger, pork and sirloin steaks. On visit #2, a gorgeous, ribbon-textured pulled pork sandwich lavished in zippy sweet-and-spicy barbecue sauce, white cheddar and house bread and butter pickles left me crying “uncle” before I could finish it. I’d be remiss if I didn’t bestow kudos on the tender roll with the beautifully egg-shellacked surface it was presented on.  My side of Mac and Cheese was not my granny’s version. Surprisingly sophisticated, fat pasta tubes were presented lazing in a subtly cheesy béchamel sauce beneath a golden, breadcrumb crust.

Underdog's melt-in-your-mouth Cheer Wine Glazed Ribs literally slid off of the bone of their own accord.

While I was little bummed that no house-made desserts are offered here (Mike’s Pies and a couple of other pre-fabs are the only options), it was probably a blessing in disguise.

If you needed another reason to visit Dunedin’s charming shops and waterfront vista, here it is. Easy for two to dine heartily here for around $60 with beer and wine.

www.hogislandfishcamp.com



My blog entries contain the unmitigated, and sometimes unforgiving, dining truths and perceptions I experience as an ordinary restaurant patron. Every meal I post about has been fully paid for by one of the participating members of my personal dining party. I do not engage in the gratis blogger freebie dining events I'm constantly invited to attend and never will. If I ooze font-like love for a restaurant in my blog, it's because they totally earned it…not because they gave me free food or knew I was going to share the experience on the internet.

Urban Comfort, St. Petersburg, FL

We all have another reason to visit St. Pete’s charming Grand Central District. I will be the first to admit that Urban Comfort struck (and strummed) a nostalgic chord in my native Tennessean heart. Situated in a repurposed 1950’s gas station on Central Avenue, the architectural integrity of the structure and its era has been well preserved and the interior remains delightfully gritty. There’s covered bench seating outdoors (with shuffleboard courts in the works) and utilitarian stainless booth seating within. Don’t go to Urban Comfort expecting an extensive menu, a wine list, haute cuisine or a refined ambiance, because you’ll not be getting any of that. Food is served on aluminum trays and beverages are dispensed in cute Mason jars.

What you will get is unabashed comfort food - fine renditions of classic Sunday supper style offerings and a short list of signature cocktails, craft beers (soon which will all be brewed on the premises) and a handful of house wines. And, great news! At Urban Comfort, you may indulge without fear of Aunt June’s pearl clutching and conniption fits that are often associated with daring to crack a cold one at a bona fide Sabbath dinner in the Bible Belt. Don’t ask me how I know this.

Appetizers are limited to fried green tomatoes, fish spread, hush puppies with smoked Gouda sauce, house-cured bacon and a seasonal selection. The fish spread is a chunky, sturdy version served with cool and crunchy veggies, buttery crackers and a little crock of the restaurant’s signature Urban Hot Sauce. The hot sauce is a life affirming elixir with a velvety texture and a subtle “slow burn” that I’m praying will be available by the bottle someday (preferably next week). 

 I could cheerfully eat the house-cured bacon app for breakfast every day for the rest of my life. The melt-in-your-mouth slabs of pork belly show up resting atop a creamy bed of grits which have been simmered in chicken stock and laced with a hint of maple syrup. I haven’t often found grits that were prepared to the proper consistency in the greater Tampa Bay area, but Comfort nailed it on my visit.

Entrees do not easily accommodate dieters and range in price from $9 to $15. Portions are huge and inclusive of sides. This is where things get deliciously carb-and-caloric-crazy.

The crunchy and succulent fried chicken (two pieces with one side and a fluffy, golden edged biscuit for $10 or four for $14.50) will have you sucking the bones and your fingers – so check your dignity at the door, bring your wet naps and go all in. Similarly, indulging in the juicy $13 chicken fried pork chops smothered in white bacon gravy might be worth eating leaves for the rest of the week. As a side note, deep fried foods are remarkably light(ish) and non-greasy here.

Chicken and dumplings are a respectable rendition and presented in their own cast iron skillet. I get annoyed by underuse of poultry leg quarters and appreciate the fact that both dark and white meat are represented here. Homey and laden with fresh herbs and veggies, this is what grownups want when we miss our mommies.

My $9 half order of fresh catch and hushpuppies may have excited me the least of everything sampled. The “catch” was grouper, which was fried to a fairly wan finish. Still, it was sweet and cooked through. Plus, I’m enamored of the tangy caper sauce that stood in for traditional tartar. Hushpuppies were a tad heavy and grainy, but the biscuit was angelic.

Sides sampled were bacon butter beans simmered in pork fat well beyond the al dente state (as decreed by law in the south), otherworldly mashed potatoes slathered in more of that previously referenced bacon gravy and a seasonal yellow squash casserole baked with layers of cheese and a Ritz cracker crust…just like the one I grew up with. 

Urban Comfort provides just that, along with a sidecar of nostalgia. Excellent for families, couples and the budget conscious (most entrees will have you packing enough leftovers for lunch the next day).

www.urbancomfortstpete.com

 

My blog entries contain the unmitigated, and sometimes unforgiving, dining truths and perceptions I experience as an ordinary restaurant patron. Every meal I post about has been fully paid for by one of the participating members of my personal dining party. I do not engage in the gratis blogger freebie dining events I'm constantly invited to attend and never will. If I ooze font-like love for a restaurant in my blog, it's because they totally earned it…not because they gave me free food or knew I was going to share the experience on the internet.

Cask Social Kitchen, Tampa, FL

UD and I hauled ourselves from our phlegmy deathbed last Sunday afternoon after a week of tandem (and futile) crud-battling, desperate for sustenance that didn't involve a can of Campbell's.  Our intrepid pal, Debbie Delight, joined us teeming, human petri dishes for what turned out to be a better-than-average brunch served up by this south Tampa newcomer.  And guess who got to spend THIS weekend battling for her own life?  Sorry, Deb.

We gurlz reveled in our Black Bubbles - little boozy Mason jars filled to the brim with Ketel One vodka, fresh blackberries, raspberry liqueur and sparkling wine. This is how mommy nurses a scratchy throat.

Our trio began with fat strips of candied bacon and saucer-sized, tender cheesy biscuits. Biscuits only failed to reach expectations due to fact that no butter was presented with them.

I selected the $11 "Sweet Belgian Bird" appetizer.  Warm, airy sweet potato waffle triangles were presented with juicy, crispy buttermilk fried breast halves perched atop them. Spicy bourbon syrup rounded out this waistband-expanding indulgence (of which I could only shoehorn down 1/4). Lumberjacks may order a more substantial version (The Big Bird) for a few dollars more.

The comfort-seeking spousal unit loved his Cask Skillet, a big platter of homey goodness piled high with fried sweet and Idaho potatoes, cheese, eggs and sausage.

Non-conformist DD noshed on nasal-passage-opening "Duck Wings", which are really tender duck legs prepared confit-style, then coated in sticky orange Siracha glaze, scallions and toasted sesame (wet-naps required).  Many restaurants have a tendency to overcook duck legs, so everyone appreciated the moist meatiness of these gorgeous gams.

While service failed to amaze, it was friendly and adequate.  The space has that industrial urban chic vibe that seems to be all the rage right now and is pleasing, albeit a tad sterile.   Overall, Cask seems like a good mid-priced option in South Tampa for casual dining.  Looking forward to trying it again for lunch or dinner.

www.casksocial.com



My blog entries contain the unmitigated, and sometimes unforgiving, dining truths and perceptions I experience as an ordinary restaurant patron. Every meal I post about has been fully paid for by one of the participating members of my personal dining party. I do not engage in the gratis blogger freebie dining events I'm constantly invited to attend and never will. If I ooze font-like love for a restaurant in my blog, it's because they totally earned it…not because they gave me free food or knew I was going to share the experience on the internet.

Florida Cracker Kitchen, Brooksville, FL

Who's up for a gastronomic field trip to Brooksville?  Don't be slinking away so quickly...you may change your mind by the time I'm finished here.

Florida Cracker Kitchen is the product of a 20-year-old mini family dining dynasty on Jefferson Street in Brooksville.  This collaboration of brothers Ethan (a formally trained chef) and Blair (silver-tongued southern charmer and veritable one-man PR firm) Hensley is worth the drive from wherever you may be situated in the Tampa Bay area. Their mother, Larie Dewitt Hensley, owns the nearby acclaimed Mallie Kyla’s Café.  The restaurant opened two years ago serving breakfast and lunch only and recently expanded service to include dinner hours on Friday and Saturday.

The vibe at Florida Cracker Kitchen is kitschy, old-school-Florida at its finest and service is both attentive and small town friendly.  But don't let the down-home decor, Christmas lights, vintage advertising signs and requisite Adirondack chairs and rockers out front fool you...this is no Cracker Barrel.

Our dining group of three was presented with an amuse-bouche of "Cracker Caviar" to stimulate our taste buds upon being seated.  This addictive combo of marinated artichoke hearts, assorted olives, chickpeas, pearl-sized mozzarella balls and other goodies served as a perfect prelude to the bountiful offerings to come.

Portions of everything are huge at Florida Cracker Kitchen, so be prepared to take a to-go box home with you because you will want to sample it all.  For starters, the house-smoked fresh mullet spread could be a meal in and of itself and is one of the finest renditions to be found in the Greater Tampa Bay area for my money...and I can be extremely judgmental when it comes to fish spread. Creamy slices of avocado were an unexpected garnish, but made a surprisingly delightful foil for this nicely spicy pescetarian's delight.

Likewise, you don't want to pass on FCK's escalated riff on crab rangoon.  These flaky, sherry-laced lump crab and Gruyere stuffed phyllo purses are a study in luxurious decadence.

The term "shrimp" is something of a misnomer here, as Florida Cracker Kitchen's shrimp cocktail features some of the largest specimens of said crustaceans I've ever laid eyes on, served chilled and nicely spiced.  

Entrees were equally impressive, reasonably priced (all but the Filet of Beef are under $20) and served with a starch, a fresh veggie and choice of soup or salad.  While house dinner salads rarely do much to ratchet my heart rate up, this one did.  UD's gorgeous bowl of fresh greens with red onion slivers, heirloom grape tomatoes, carrot strands and toasted walnuts was drizzled in a light, house vinaigrette and heartily snarfed.

The soup of the day was crab and corn chowder (which I can almost never pass up), so I had to admire the salad from afar.  This was an excellent rendition and I appreciated that fact that no one was skimping on either the crab morsels or the trough size.

The bone of  the spousal unit's 1 lb. grilled porterhouse pork chop with apple rum glaze looked like it had been bleaching in the sun for a month after he had his way with it.  

I have no idea where she put it all, but little remained of our petite dining companion's fat and meaty Chassahowitzka river crab cakes after she tucked into them.  

Lastly, I enjoyed perfectly pan-seared grouper cheeks with beurre noisette sauce with fluffy jasmine rice and some outstanding Brussels sprouts with sauteed onion that I daresay would be sweet enough to convert even the most hardcore cruciferous veggie haters.

Creamy, mile-high kumquat pie is a must-order for citrus junkies.  When this shell-pink cloud arrives at the table atop its cinnamony graham cracker crust, you won't know whether to eat it or snuggle up in it. But go ahead and dive in (with your fork!)...the tangy and refreshing key-lime-meets-grapefruit flavor is quite remarkable.

The wine and craft beer list is short but thoughtful and most will find something on it to satisfy their taste.   For the bona fide "Crackers", there are tall boy cans of Miller Lite, PBR and Old Milwaukee on hand.

Final Word:  This was an extremely pleasing experience in all respects.  The place is fun, it's friendly, the food is excellent and nicely presented, and (bonus points!) it's quite affordable.  Everything you see here plus two glasses of wine and two beers set us back a relatively modest $125 before gratuity.  Be aware that this is a cash-only business, but there is an ATM onsite for diners' convenience (if you're lucky, you might get some of your change back in whimsical $2 bills).

http://flacracker.com/

My blog entries contain the unmitigated, and sometimes unforgiving, dining truths and perceptions I experience as an ordinary restaurant patron. Every meal I post about has been fully paid for by one of the participating members of my personal dining party. I do not engage in the gratis blogger freebie dining events I'm constantly invited to attend and never will. If I ooze font-like love for a restaurant in my blog, it's because they totally earned it…not because they gave me free food or knew I was going to share the experience on the internet.

Fat Maggie's, Lakeland, FL

Fat Maggie's is a tiny barbeque joint located just off I-4 in Lakeland that is totally worth the drive.  If you like classic, fatty, cheesy, unapolagetically decadent southern comfort food elevated beyond your wildest dreams, this is your spot.  Do yourself a favor and don't even mention the visit to your cardiologist.  What happens in Lakeland stays in Lakeland.

The scene is cute and kitschy with an inside maximum occupancy of approximately two dozen patrons.  Never fear...the season for outdoor deck seating is nigh.

My long-time pal (Georgia Peach) and I arrived at around 1:30 on a weekday, and I daresay there is probably a wait during a more mainstream lunch hour.  Our server, Brittany, was charming and helpful...we loved her and she deserves a shout out.  The interior of the establishment is quaint but somewhat spartan, not that we gave a rat's arse about ambiance (or lack thereof) once the food started coming out.

We started with a basket of fries which were lavished with truffle oil and Parmesan cheese, and presented with a zippy sidecar of chipotle ketchup. Hot, crispy and pungent, one would be hard-pressed to find a more addictive version of frites in the Tampa Bay area.

My deep and abiding love of corn dogs has almost been a source of embarrassment in the past, but I feel that Maggie's hand-dipped Angus beef corn dog pops somewhat redeemed this shameful passion. Not the heavy, doughy, State Fair version (which I will, nonetheless, gleefully snort given any opportunity), these playful bites of heaven were enrobed in sleek, golden brown jackets and served with a trio of dipping sauces...dijon mustard, garlic aoli and barbeque, although we gurlz kept returning to the spicy ketchup that came with the fries.

The menu is short, but pretty much mind-blowing. Three entrees are available (grilled chicken tenders, beef brisket and pulled pork) all of which include two side dishes. I selected the $10 melt-in-your-mouth pulled pork offering with southern-style cheesy broccoli casserole and gooey mac 'n cheese topped with yet ANOTHER blanket of molten cheese and studded with candied bacon.

I realize that no one's really interested in Candied Bacon Mac 'n Cheese, so I'm posting this photo solely for my own enjoyment.

The Peach opted to "build her own sammie" from an astonishing array of options.  Her custom made dream sandwich was comprised of approximately a half pound of smoky, tender beef brisket, bread and butter pickles, juicy tomato slices and condiments, all sandwiched between her bread of choice...and her choice was two grilled cheese sandwiches.  Oh, yes they DID.  Sandwiches come with one side at Fat Maggies and GP couldn't resist getting her own crock of candied bacon mac at a $1.00 upcharge.


Of course, dessert was involved.  The $3 Banana Pudding with house-made Whiskey Whipped Cream will have you slappin' your mama. It's far better than one can conceivably expect for the price and hefty enough for two to share.  Welcome to my redneck fantasy!

Food quality and quantity are off the chain at this little independent.  Peach and I walked out for $60 encompassing everything pictured plus two local craft brewskis apiece and both of us were packing enough leftovers for a second meal.  A worthy destination.

http://fatmaggies.com/



My blog entries contain the unmitigated, and sometimes unforgiving, dining truths and perceptions I experience as an ordinary restaurant patron. Every meal I post about has been fully paid for by one of the participating members of my personal dining party. I do not engage in the gratis blogger freebie dining events I'm constantly invited to attend and never will. If I ooze font-like love for a restaurant in my blog, it's because they totally earned it…not because they gave me free food or knew I was going to share the experience on the internet.