3 out of 5 stars
225 S. Franklin St., Tampa. Appetizers: $4-$19; entrees: $20-$72; desserts: $6-$9; beer/wine/cocktails: $5-$12. 813-321-4040, harpoonharryscrabhousetampa.com.
Poor legendary Harpoon Harry. It’s so hard for a pirate to balance the demands of ego and id. Being a successful plunderer requires you to terrorize the seven seas, but your friends and crew acknowledge your “generous nature.”
Why, oh why, then, would the “beautiful, dark-eyed” aristocratic Bonita reject your advances?
Perhaps when she vows “hatred,” tosses your gold and jewels into the sea, and sneaks off “into the darkness” in a purloined dinghy, it’s time to take a hint.
She’s just not that into you, OK?
But I expect there will be lots of interest in your crab pots. Relax and play to your strengths.
I know you’ve got a big personality, but some of your appetizers have the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Lime-seasoned yellowfin tuna tartar bathed in chipotle aioli is very pretty in the cucumber cups. And while the pickled watermelon radish and slivers of red onion give each bite some zing, the fish is buried. It might as well be tofu.
Lighten up. Remember, you’re running a seafood joint.
You know, I really appreciate your extensive fresh seafood menu and wild layout including sushi bar, mezzanines, hand-carved woodwork and roll-up doors along Franklin Street. And with my lowered expectations for someone who’s spent his life at sea, well, let me just say that the 1926 Chevy truck stylized bar area is splendid.
But Harry, the six Creole oysters Rockefeller are just crazy. I should have known when I saw the word “Creole” that there would be bits of andouille sausage (my bad) hiding with the creamed spinach under the chipotle hollandaise. But as with the tuna above, the tiny oysters don’t have a chance. It’s always about balance. It’s not that these weren’t tasty, but the oyster might as well have stayed unshucked.
The Tampa fish spread made from smoked mahi and amberjack, however, is indeed moderate. The restrained smokiness allows diners to top your saltine crackers to taste. The garnishes of house hot sauce, capers, diced Spanish onions and tomatoes, thinly sliced jalapeño, or fresh lemon offer myriad combinations to tickle our tastebuds.
I see that you top the asparagus bisque with crema flavored with artisanal whiskey from Iowa’s Cedar Ridge Distillery.
How the hell do you get there? It’s landlocked.
I’m guessing even a scoundrel can have an Amazon account.
But the asparagus bisque could really stand to be passed through a chinois, that most wonderful double-thickness conical strainer that perfectionist chef Thomas Keller highlights as an essential tool of refinement.
I know you’re a pirate and all, but bisque isn’t rustic; it’s about breathtaking lushness.
The steak salad with a beautiful chunk of juicy USDA prime filet mignon works much better. And the fresh mozzarella on top of the baby spinach and fresh Roma tomatoes looks nice. Plus the salsify, red onion and sherry-shallot vinaigrette are kept in check, just providing enough acidity to enliven the palate.
I wish that were also the case with the north Atlantic salmon. The pan sear is just a little too long but the fingerling potatoes with baby spinach and portobello mushrooms plus artichoke hearts make for nice accompaniments. However, when you drown everything in spicy tomato gravy and Peppadew relish you just overwhelm the fish.
Who exactly is the star of this show, Harry? If you’re taking the trouble to harpoon a beautiful fish, let the fillet sing.
It’s not that things don’t taste good, they do; but you don’t want Poseidon on your bad side, trust me. And I know your claim to fame lies in your love affair with crustaceans. I mean, even if I didn’t see the name of the new 18,000-square-foot space that you pirated from the convention center, the ten-foot tall blue-green crab in front tips your hand.
What makes the crab pots special is that the red steamed potatoes, corn on the cob, andouille sausage and seafood stock (as good as they are) don’t get in the way of the succulent crab meat. We choose snow crab and have a delicious time.
I know you’re a spicy guy, but here the lead character is allowed to shine.
That’s where the “wow factor” lies.
We’re almost too stuffed to explore a sweet finish, but don’t wish to be thrown belowdecks. Key West key lime pie has visible zest, which is a good sign, but the choice to opt for a gelatinous filling just disappoints.
I know it’s easier to make a big pan and cut squares, but at what cost, Harry?
You’ve retained enough tartness, but seductive creaminess can’t be even a bit rubbery.
The warm apple crisp is very tasty even to my squad of non-pirates. It’s a generous bowlful for a pirate, but the apples are walking the plank toward applesauce. Even if you’re busy keelhauling whatever enemies you have left, please don’t leave the fruit on the stove till it loses all shape. It’s really yummy but the soft element is the melting vanilla ice cream. I’d love it even more if the apples were somewhere in between the crunch of the crisp and the lushness of the melting vanilla.
I’m happy to read that the Gulf Coast’s “love nectar potion” mended your broken heart. Please don’t “Aaarrggghh” at me, just accept that you’re better off without Bonita, and work on balance.
You know what Poseidon says: “Fish are your best friends.”
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.
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This article appears in Apr 18-25, 2019.