For once, Tampa is riding the crest of a culinary wave, instead of wallowing in the foamy trough. Big-name chefs in major cities across the U.S. and Europe are opening up secondary spots, not in the glitzy vein of Vegas vanity outposts or franchised photocopies of their signature restaurants. These are more humble, down-scale joints sometimes just down the street from their parent locations. Often, these little bistros serve the simple, homey comfort food that chefs like to eat but can't justify serving in their chic eateries.
Fully a year ago, Spartaco Giolito — the creator of Spartaco Trattoria and undoubtedly the owner of the coolest name in Tampa cuisine — opened his own little outpost on West Gandy, in the parking lot of a Publix right next to a drive-through smoothie joint. It's not a glamorous setting. but it suits the stripped-down dining philosophy and family style "ristorante" feel of the simply named Vino e Pasta.
In comparison to the unassuming external appearance, the interior is surprisingly nice, one large dining room with lots of wood and exposed beams in the ceiling. Checked tablecloths peek out under darker, solid overlays, almost as homage to the New York Italian trattoria stereotype. It's casual, but nice casual.
With our menus comes a plate of bruschetta, which we devour so quickly our server brings us another. The menu takes less time to read than the bruschetta does to eat: there are a few appetizers, a few entrees, and a long list of pasta shapes and sauces that we can combine at will, mad-scientist-style. Nothing too pricey, with all the pastas at $10.95 or $12.95.
The real surprise is the wine list. Vino e Pasta doesn't fish for higher tabs by pairing rolled-back food prices with a typical restaurant wine list. There are but 20 or so wines, all at $5 a glass or $22 a bottle. It is amazing how freeing a list like this can be. There is no pressure to choose the right wine — there are so few, just assume they're all good — and there is no need to worry about how much to spend.
As I look around the room, I realize that every table in the place has an open bottle and almost all the diners have a half-empty glass in front of them. There is a little buzz at every table, a little laughter and a lot of boisterous conversation. The wine sets the stage, pushing people to realize that dinner at Vino e Pasta isn't just about calories and prices, carbs and protein. Eating is about enjoyment. It's an experience.
We start our experience with a passel of appetizers, including a simple seafood salad ($5.95), just barely chilled after a quick steam. The mussels, shrimp and calamari are dressed with simple lemon juice and olive oil, unobtrusive enough to merely accent the fresh shellfish. On the hot side, mussels and clams ($5.95) are wading in a broth redolent with garlic, parsley and clam juice, another example of good shellfish minimally messed with.
A flat, tomatoey minestrone ($4.95) is so disappointing that I push away my bowl, but imagine my surprise when I reach across the table and spoon up some of the best lobster bisque ($4.95) I've had in months. It's packed with hefty lobster flavor; a dose of cream and a touch of sherry highlight the deep, briny shellfish base. I paint the tablecloth pink as I repeatedly lunge across the table with my spoon.
We order another bottle of wine for the main attraction: three plates of steaming pasta and one of veal. Surprisingly, the veal marsala ($15.50) is the best of the bunch. The thin cutlet is tender as only baby cow can be, with a rich pan sauce that tastes of the sweet, dried fruit of real marsala. I don't eat veal often, but I would order the Vino e Pasta version again in a second.
The pasta is served in a very American style — oversauced and sometimes overcooked. Rigatoni with meatballs ($10.95) is swimming in a sea of brightly flavored red sauce, the pasta tubes cooked way past al dente. The meatballs are fried crusty on the outside, with an interior that is soft and meaty with none of the dull breadcrumb flavor so common elsewhere.
Spaghetti carbonara ($12.95) has a more toothsome texture, but is also drowned in soupy, pancetta-laced sauce that is ever-so-slightly eggy, too subtle by far for this hearty cheese, egg and pasta dish. The ravioli ($10.95) is better. It's doused with pink princess — a mixture of rich alfredo and bright marinara — two great tastes that taste great together.
With just three guys working the floor in their street clothes, I didn't expect much in the way of service. But as our waiter cleans the table of plates and crumbs and chunks of tomato, I realize that I haven't had to ask for anything all evening. Silverware was replaced, the water pitcher was re-filled, and more wine was suggested, all with no effort on our part. This "casual" place takes better care of its customers than most fancy-pants places I've been to lately.
Dessert, like wine, seems inevitable at Vino e Pasta. Typical cheesecake and cannoli (both $4.95) are supplemented by a tiramisu ($4.95) that revives my faith in this ubiquitous but rarely palatable dessert that so often amounts to little more than soggy cookies. We duel over forkfuls of this moist cake with its deep, rich coffee flavor that's better than the dark espresso sitting in front of us.
We walk out of Vino e Pasta feeling content. Every dinner I have at this little trattoria is like that. Inexpensive, comfortable food and inexpensive, comfortable wine go a long way toward relieving the pressures of daily life and reminding us how much enjoyment can be had during a simple dinner with friends.
Brian Ries is a former restaurant general manager with an advanced diploma from the Court of Master Sommeliers. He can be reached at brian.ries@weeklyplanet.com. Planet food critics dine anonymously, and the paper pays for the meals. Restaurants chosen for review are not related to advertising.
This article appears in Sep 14-20, 2005.