I have a theory about appetizers. Because they tend to be small and inexpensive, they give wary diners the chance to stretch their culinary horizons by ordering an unfamiliar dish. The bizarre hazelnut-jalapeño remoulade shrimp might be worth trying — after all, it's only six bucks. As a result, chefs let their imagination go free in the appetizer portion of the menu. I always think that if you want to know what a chef can do, check out her little plates.
So you'd think I'd be head over heels about tapas bars, which boast menus entirely composed of little plates. In Spain, tapas bars provide a sample of their house specials free with their clients' drink orders. One explanation for the tradition is that a bit of food in the stomach helps the happy hour crowd hold their sangria, while another maintains that the little dish was placed on top of the glass in order to keep flies away. But in this country, "tapas" have been providing restaurateurs nationwide an excuse to charge diners a fortune for a meal composed of skimpy portions. The food genre has been a real hit with the well-heeled crowd, who have the disposable income necessary for the often exorbitantly priced appetizers and the ability to indulge in tapas culture, which involves sitting around for hours, chatting and nibbling. I've been disillusioned by the concept, subjected to too many joints that are overpriced, overcrowded and decidedly underwhelming.
So it was with trepidation that I ventured into Tinatapas last weekend. The latest brainchild of Channelside kingpins Guy Revelle and Mark Gibson (of Stumps Supper Club, Howl at the Moon and Splitsville), the restaurant opened last spring. I was pleased to discover that in Tinatapas, the little plates of Spain have found a respectable home.
Arranged in lists of "cold plates," "hot plates" and "special plates," the menu offers a decent variety of both traditional Spanish and Nuevo Latino cuisine on a sliding price scale. If you're a vegetarian and follow your server's recommendation of about three dishes per person, you might get out of Tinatapas for under $20.
Area vegetarians might be pleased to discover that this is one Spanish restaurant that they needn't avoid, as a good third of the menu is sans carne. Dishes to try include a cup of cool, spicy gazpacho ($3.95) made with tomato puree, onions, pepper, avocados and croutons — a combo even raw foodists can get behind. "Think of it as a tomato smoothie," my date advised, adding that he was disappointed that they strayed from the Spanish tradition of serving it in a glass to drink, favoring instead a soup-like presentation, complete with a spoon. Since part of the fun of gazpacho is the pretty combination of vegetable colors, I wished they'd at least gone with transparent cups, but we scarfed it down anyway, and deemed the spicy slurpable an excellent aperitif. Another meatless wonder was the pisto manchego ($5.95), available on both the hot and cold menus, and featuring a tasty casserole of roasted eggplant, peppers, onions and Spanish rice beneath a blanket of manchego cheese. Another dish, terracotta-baked goat cheese in tomato sauce (goat cheese al forno, $6.95), lost some of its luster by being served alongside some cold, slightly soggy garlic toast. Though the cheese was fine (hard to mess up goat cheese and marinara), the toast left much to be desired.
Fortunately, there were plenty of other dishes to enjoy. We sampled a "ceviche-style" shrimp dish in which cooked seafood was tossed with a spicy and acidic lime-veggie salsa in the usual martini glass. Not authentic, but tasty, and probably much more accessible to the Channelside clientele than actual citrus-cured fish. Another excellent option was the chicken and chorizo skewers ($6.95), which were dusted with smoked Spanish paprika and served with a side of delicious cumin aioli. I also loved the fresh grilled shrimp with a very spicy mango salsa ($8.95). One of the more expensive items on the menu, it came with half a dozen jumbo shrimp and enough field greens and mango salsa to serve as an entrée.
If you balk at the idea of tapas dining, Tinatapas offers several house specials in both "small plate" and entrée versions (entrées come with beans and rice). When we ordered the steak rioja ($11.95 tapas/$15.95 entrée), we learned exactly how dedicated the restaurant is to service. My date is one of those dying breeds of carnivores who despairs of having his meat cooked correctly at any place that doesn't have "steak house" in its name. Sure enough, when our hunk of NY strip arrived beneath a sheen of delicious red wine reduction sauce (Spanish rioja, natch), it was a disappointing pale pink within. We'd barely resigned ourselves to our fate when our waiter, Chris, happened to pass by, and said, "Now that's not right." In two minutes, a chef emerged from the kitchen with a new steak, and then waited while we ascertained its interior perfection. In fact, our server was remarkably solicitous all evening, regularly checking on us and making sure that each of our many little dishes met with approval. Though he often wasn't the one who delivered our tapas, he always made sure that we were satisfied.
Since the very idea of tapas is tied so intricately to drinking and socializing, it is important that the atmosphere of the restaurant is every bit as pleasant as the cuisine. Tinatapas' décor is at once upscale and European as well as inviting and down to earth, with gorgeous heavy wood furnishings, burnt-orange leather and golden lighting. Beautiful mosaic-portraits and a steady stream of Spanish-guitar pop covers (my date recognized a mariachi Beck song) encourage one to hang out and enjoy. Unlike my experience at other area tapas bars, I never once felt hurried, despite the weekend bustle and commotion all around. Young urban professionals talked politics and pop culture beside families whose children were getting their first taste of carpaccio de bistec ($7.95) or chocolate con churros ($4.95). The table next to us offered a scoop of garlicky potatoes in tomato sauce ($4.95) in exchange for a taste of our goat cheese, clearly embracing the Tinatapas mandate to share and socialize. We made it through a half pitcher of sweet and fruity mimosa sangria ($12.95) and moved on to the more potent half-pitcher of margarita del oro ($10.95). This, we decided, is what tapas bars should be made of.
Freelance writer Diana Peterfreund dines anonymously and the Planet pays for her meals. She may be contacted at [email protected]. Restaurants are chosen for review at the discretion of the writer, and are not related to advertising.
