The Reading Room's Margo Paraska tends to the outdoor gardens, which provide veggies, herbs and flowers for the menu. Credit: Nicole Abbett

The Reading Room’s Margo Paraska tends to the outdoor gardens, which provide veggies, herbs and flowers for the menu. Credit: Nicole Abbett

The Reading Room

3.5 out of 5 stars

6001 Central Ave., St. Petersburg. Appetizers: $5-$15; entrees: $14-$27; desserts: $8-$9; cocktails: $11; wines by the glass: $9-$15. 727-343-0052; rrstpete.com.

When it comes to food, details matter. Fresh, local ingredients are at least half the battle. So as you approach the Reading Room, it's delightful to see raised beds of veggies, herbs and flowers that you know will be a part of tonight's dinner.

A plank walkway between the plants leads to the glass entry, and it's clear proprietor Kevin Lane's team has paid plenty of attention to the interior design. The color scheme is all natural — where a honeycomb of charcoal gray tile on the face of the chef's tasting bar morphs to slate gray and then to sandstone as it moves to the floor before changing to warm wood tones in the dining room. Huge windows wrap two sides of the room, bringing the outside in with clerestory windows above the long poured concrete bar stretching under a series of modern pendant lights.

The industrial ceiling and pipes are sprayed black and disappear, save for pieces of hanging driftwood that sport small green plants. Under the windows on the south wall is a giant tufted gray banquette. It's a very handsome room, but also very lively. Since there are no drapes, tablecloths, carpet or acoustical tile, the room is loud and not conducive to quiet conversation.

A plank walkway between the plants leads to the west St. Pete restaurant’s glass entry. Credit: Nicole Abbett

They've chosen unusual, yet splendid, heavy dark graphite-colored cutlery supplemented by French Laguiole (LAH-yole) knives, the connoisseurs' choice, for meat dishes. The serving plates and bowls are not typical restaurant ware, but rather have the look of handcrafted glazed pottery.

Each table features small blue volumes of the Yale Shakespeare series. And if you explore, the drink menu is inside the front cover and the dessert selection is in back, along with an old-fashioned library checkout card stamped up to date, where some prior guests have even left comments. My companions are unimpressed as I begin the opening soliloquy from my copy of Richard III. It appears they came to eat.

Chef Lauren Macellaro's seasonal garden-inspired, wood-grilled menu is presented in four chapters of four courses each. The chapters progress by the dishes' complexity as they also escalate in expense. Dishes spring from the 1,400 square feet of raised-bed gardens outside, which reinforce the chef's uncompromising commitment to fresh, ultra-local ingredients.

Potato, country and pain au levain loaves are among the daily bread. Credit: Nicole Abbett
We begin by paying six bucks for bread. If you've come to expect free bread as a welcome gift, you may be reluctant. But RR's daily bread is a whole-grain sourdough wonder. The dark, thick, chewy crust comes from being wood-fired in an Earthstone oven. The airy open crumb is substantive and tangy — worthy of the cultured butter made in-house and sprinkled with huge flakes of sea salt. It's enough to make a grown man cry; perfection isn't free.

House-made burrata is a creamy ball of deliciousness. It's accompanied by the freshest combo of English peas and fennel drizzled with smoked almond vinaigrette. The acidity provides an ideal touch of brightness to counter the rich, fatty cheese.

Wood-roasted cauliflower's soft smokiness is enhanced by ground nuts bound into sweet nuggets by brown butter flavored with vanilla, tamarind and orange. It's a savory way to load up on cruciferous veggies.

Our first entree is a juicy skewer of pork glistening with spicy pepper glaze. It sits on a mound of creamy whipped potatoes, wilted wood-grilled greens, and a hint of brightness from some pickled onions. It's terrific.

House-made burrata with spring veggies, watermelon radish and smoked vinaigrette. Credit: Nicole Abbett

Underwhelming is the Chapter 4 steak. I know premium ingredients have a cost, but this plate is more than rustic; it's a visual mess, and the five thin slices of beef seem overpriced at $27. They're absolutely buried in fried egg butter, a nice idea that overwhelms the meat, which should be the star of the dish. Instead, it's mostly filled with broccoli and pieces of crispy rice cake.

The desserts are inventive, but a mixed bag. Key Lime Pie of Sorts deconstructs this Florida classic with a smear of sweet graham cracker cream, chunks of baked meringue and some strawberry compote. However, the lime filling is a rubbery modernist cuisine affair that packs no punch. Key lime pie is about creamy tartness — don't reinvent a classic if you can't deliver.

RR does deliver in spades with sweet brown butter cake and intense banana cream topped with walnuts and tasty sea salt gelato. The flavors all pop and work well together. It's a big hit with my companions.

A view of the Reading Room bar, which stretches under a series of modern pendant lights. Credit: Nicole Abbett

We finish with crispy chocolate pave, which tops two dense, creamy chocolate circles (one dark, one milk) with kumquat marmalade that adds a traditional touch of orangey citrus. This is layered with an icy almond sorbet and an unexpected sweet honey ganache. For me, the flavors compete, but that may be an idiosyncratic response, since my table doesn't seem to notice.

While the wine and cocktail lists are highly selective, they offer a surprisingly wide range of grape varietals that are often overlooked. Again, attention to details.

A look at the restaurant's website and Facebook page documents the team and their journey. You can sense the joy they bring to their work. One photo introduces me to a new word: tatroux — a fearless creative approach and enhanced sense of calm in the kitchen. Sounds just right. My quibbles aside, the Reading Room is a most welcome addition to the local dining scene.

Jon Palmer Claridge dines anonymously when reviewing. Check out the explanation of his rating system.

The restaurant team has paid attention to the raised beds as well as the interior design. Credit: Nicole Abbett

With huge windows and a tufted gray banquette, the dining room is very handsome, but also very lively. Credit: Nicole Abbett

Striped bass, featuring tom yum broth, tomatoes and mushrooms. Credit: Nicole Abbett

This article appears in Mar 30 – Apr 6, 2017.

Jon Palmer Claridge—Tampa Bay's longest running, and perhaps last anonymous, food critic—has spent his life following two enduring passions, theatre and fine dining. He trained as a theatre professional...