Frankie's Lobstah Trap
3 out of 5 stars
2223 N. West Shore Blvd., Tampa. Appetizers: $9-$14: entrees: $12-$24; desserts: $6; beer and wine: $4-$18. 813-906-3219; frankieslobstahtrap.com.
In days gone by (when I lived up north), I regularly vacationed during the summer on Cape Cod. Relatives had a house near Hyannis, and some friends used to host lobster feasts, where we looked across Waquoit Bay toward the lights of Martha’s Vineyard.
Lobsters are deeply embedded into the food culture of New England. Of course, that spawns note cards that reflect the somewhat dark reality that cooking a lobster means dispatching a live creature in a way that most modern chefs don’t confront with other animals — you know, those that are neatly packaged in Styrofoam and shrink wrap.
My favorite cards don’t shy away from the dark humor of this reality. One depicts two lobster detectives, dressed in trench coats and fedoras with the caption, “I think we’ve got a serial killer on the loose.” Perhaps the best one is looking up from a huge pot of boiling water toward a bug-eyed lobster, seconds from meeting its fate, with the thought bubble repeating, “There’s no place like home.” Sadly, there are no ruby slippers, nor a rescue from this bad dream for our lobster friends.
Luckily for us, Frankie’s Lobstah Trap in Tampa is here to do the dirty work. Tucked between The Cheesecake Factory and The Capital Grille is International Plaza’s Bay Street, an outdoor alleyway that winds between buildings. Duck down the street and soon you reach Frankie’s. The first things you see are five outdoor tables shaded by huge red-orange umbrellas, cleverly suspended on adjustable arms so that you may block direct rays of the sun. These are behind a low divider complete with criss-crossed nautical ropes; in fact, as you enter, the restaurant does a nice job evoking the architectural vocabulary of New England, complete with cedar shingles and weathered clapboards.
A notable three-foot seashell hugs the wall near a huge white mirror engulfed by a giant Day-Glo orange octopus, whose tentacles wrap the wall and ceiling. There’s a big double-sided bar with industrial black pendant lights and bright orange stools with black cushions. Plus, the open kitchen is visible through a white open grid wall, which sports a wine crate, an urn and some globes made from oyster shells. Overall, from the high ceilings to the textured, herringbone-patterned wood floors, it’s a comfortable, welcoming space to dine.
We dig in with a pan-seared crab cake starter that’s packed with moist crab meat and well caramelized. The flavors aren’t assertive, but neither is the Cajun remoulade, so there’s good balance. It’s a nice way to begin, since my companions aren’t big on raw clams, oysters or steamers, and peel-and-eat shrimp don’t reveal many insights into the kitchen’s prowess.
Lobster mac and cheese is Frankie’s secret recipe. Rest assured, it’s very good indeed, because it has three things in abundance: chunks of lobster, plenty of creamy, cheesy sauce, and, most notably, an ample breadcrumb topping that adds delightful texture to every bite. The tubular pasta isn’t too soft and each mouthful delivers.
Lobster bisque is available by the cup or the bowl. The small, sweet lobster chunks bring texture to the creamy bisque tinged with sherry. Like the mac, it’s comfort food with a core highlighting all the goodness this crustacean has to offer. If I’m being really picky, I’d play with the balance of the cream and sherry in relation to the stock that forms the base. I want more flavor from the lobster and less from the cream, which is more for texture and, in this case, shoulders too much of the burden. It’s good, rather than great.
The same is true of the entrees. Everything is pleasing, but nothing wows. I suppose that’s the sweet spot for a casual restaurant, but I’m always hoping for finesse. The shrimp scampi sautés jumbo Key West pinks (with their tails intact) in olive oil, garlic, a splash of white wine, lemon and butter, then tosses them with linguine so it’s coated and glistening on the plate. While the shrimp are lovely, a tablemate wants more. At $18, however, the portion seems fair to me.
Lemon- and fennel-marinated grilled salmon is tasty with fresh herbs, accompanied by steamed veggies with chunks of golden potato, bright green broccoli florets, yellow bell peppers and halved cherry tomatoes.
Truffle fries are light on the truffle oil, yet perfectly crisp and delicious. They’re served in a paper-lined cone of spiral stainless steel, which keep them warm and crunchy. The quintessential lobster roll features chunks of claw meat lightly tossed in lemon garlic aioli on a traditional toasted split-top brioche bun. Half a lemon wrapped in yellow cheesecloth is there for you to incorporate a seedless spritz to taste.
Ranging from classic cocktails to local beer, the drink options are finely chosen. Wines by the glass offer lobster-friendly Chalk Hill Chardonnay from Sonoma, or the splurge offering of Veuve Clicquot Brut, just $18 — very fair for the good stuff from Reims.
For dessert, we jump over the cannoli and cheesecake to land on a nicely tart key lime pie with a whipped cream piped edge, as well as a piece of moist rum bundt cake. The rum isn’t overdone, but serves as an accent to the yellow cake with a dense crumb. All in all, a pleasant end to an enjoyable meal.
CL Food Critic Jon Palmer Claridge dines anonymously when reviewing. Check out the explanation of his rating system, or email him at food@creativeloafing.com.
