You can say what you want about the seemingly endless miles of strip malls lining North Dale Mabry up Carrollwood way. You can't spit without hitting some outpost or another of a corporate mega-chain, from Borders to Hibachis-R-Us, gravitating toward the critical mass created by suburban developments and well-traveled highway.
But look deeper into those strip malls and you'll find a few niches occupied by local entrepreneurs marking territory for the little guy. Independent business folk can take advantage of the thousands of cars passing by just as much as the corporate behemoths, stocking available storefronts with comic-book vendors and restaurants. When it comes to Carrollwood, don't judge a book by its cover.
The same could be said for Grille One Sixteen. It's sandwiched in one of those strip malls between a Don Pan and TGIFriday's. But instead of the garish window dressing and "choose me!" neediness of its neighbors, Grille One Sixteen plays it coy. There's discrete lettering on the building's façade, and the entrance is a simple wooden door with no signs or adornment. Private club? They'd like you to think so.
The "they" in this case are owners Terence Terenzi — former CFO of Hops — and his partners, including chef James Maita. They've adopted a don't-ask-don't-tell philosophy to promoting the restaurant. Limited signage. No advertising. A "coming soon" website. No answering machine during the restaurant's off-hours. It's as if they don't want you to come in at all.
Makes you want to go, doesn't it?
So go. You'll be wowed by the décor, satisfied by the food and, especially if you live in Carrollwood, likely become one of the many converts that have word-of-mouthed Grille One Sixteen into underground popularity. Remember, this is still Carrollwood, so imbue that "underground" with a little irony. Just a little.
Walk through the anonymous door, and you'll be in a different realm. Grille One Sixteen is gorgeous, dark and dreamy, with floor-to-ceiling white curtains amidst notes of chocolate and black. The lounge area takes up the center of the space, with low couches set in conversation-starting horseshoe shapes, making it easy for a crowd to claim some real estate or for different groups of drinkers to form a new crowd.
Along the edges of the room are elegant booths surrounded by walls of padded white leather. There are also tables on the outskirts of the central lounge space, along with two cylindrical private dining areas on either end of the room, easily separated from the hoi polloi by more white curtains. Get rid of the TVs above the bar — in plain view of the entire room — and you've got one of the nicest spots in all of Tampa, let alone Carrollwood.
Grille One Sixteen's food is surprisingly simple when placed in context with the surroundings, a big-city steakhouse menu with few surprises. That's not bad, just not what you expect when you walk in.
The meal starts with pretzel bread — twisted, golden brown and steamy from the oven — with accompaniments of artichokes, garlicky butter and balsamic cippolini onions. The bread is irresistible; you'll need seconds, or more.
Cubes of beautiful tuna are laced with chili sauce and piled on delicate fried wontons in Grille One Sixteen's tartare ($12) — tasty enough, although the fish needs a little more seasoning to stand up to the spicy dressing. There are beef and grouper sliders, the latter ($15) perfectly seasoned and incredibly moist, with pickles and fancy mayo transforming the interior of the doughy bun into a glorious mess reminiscent of amped-up White Castles via Key West.
Steaks are all organic, prime and dry-aged. They come out right, with just enough salt to accent the crust and as-ordered rosy red marking the interiors. Although the rib eye ($39) is the preferred cut of any beef aficionado, here the lean filet ($39) has more than enough flavor to win over fans of heavy marbling.
Sea bass ($29) is almost as good as the beef, if a tad overcooked. Scallops wrapped in prosciutto ($25) are both too firm and a bit funky, and in any case, the prosciutto doesn't manage to impart any flavor to the big discs. Thankfully, the dish comes with a puddle of decadent, cheesy grits. Other sides are the usual steakhouse standards, all competent, rich and plentiful.
There's a profusion of sauces to accompany both the steaks and the fresh fish options — from infused butters to fruity glazes — but think twice. We try roasted garlic butter (less garlicky than it should be, $2), the 116 signature steak sauce (a reasonable red-wine demi-glace, $2) and the orange ginger glaze (overpowered the buttery bass, $2). In the hands of a good chef, these stellar proteins are almost always better naked.
Grille One Sixteen offers a few desserts, mostly the usual suspects, but go for the donuts ($8). Four fresh, yeasty rings arrayed on a plate, each covered in a different sauce, from caramel to raspberry.
While Grille One Sixteen may look South Beach, the clientele largely doesn't. That's not a slight. I wouldn't make it past the velvet rope at a Miami club, either.
But we're not in Miami, are we? We're in egalitarian Tampa, where a place like Grille One Sixteen can provide even schmoes in business casual an opportunity to experience a touch of style, some nice food and an escape from the raging consumer culture outside its doors. In Carrollwood, no less.
This article appears in Sep 3-9, 2008.