As I sat at Zax Grill, about to eat a bowl of bouillabaisse, I contemplated the prodigious effort that goes into the famous French seafood soup long before the chef ever heats the skillet. To truly appreciate seafood — which arrives so seemingly without effort on a restaurant plate — try harvesting shellfish yourself.Our neighbors invited us on a scalloping expedition in the Gulf of Mexico. For the first time in seven years, the state this year allowed boaters to scour the reefs off Crystal River, plucking scallops from the dappled sea grass on the bottom. The area had been closed in order to help the depleted creatures regenerate.
We were among hundreds of boaters out on the water during Labor Day weekend with the same brilliant idea.
Undaunted, we slathered our skin with sunscreen, suited up in snorkels, fins and masks, and swam the pristine seabed, plucking cream-colored shells. It took five of us an entire afternoon to gather enough scallops for dinner. The most labor-intensive part, however, was yet to come: Back at the dock, we spent an hour cracking ragged shells open with a sharp knife, cleaning out intestines and cutting out the edible meat.
By dark, we had a modest bowl of fresh scallops, but we still had to cook the meal! It took another hour to boil bow-tie pasta and saute onions, garlic and scallops together for a simple sauce; we chugged wine while we threw the salad together, and cut the desserts, which luckily, we had made ahead. At 9 p.m., when we finally sat down to eat, we were starved, physically blown out, and getting pretty drunk.
And while it was a fun day, it sure is a lot easier to leave the heavy lifting to professionals.
That's how I ended up at Zax, a glam new Oldsmar eatery with a menu that leans heavily toward grilled seafood. Its chef is Chris Knowles, a 26-year-old area native who learned about the sea firsthand from the vantage point of a surfboard. He previously worked at the venerable Sea Grill.
Although I found Zax's fare good, nearly every dish would have benefited from more robust seasoning, more pronounced flavor. The aforementioned bouillabaisse stew ($6, a soup of the day) took Best Dish honors because its heavy load of scallops, mussels and shrimp sat in an assertive, spicy saffron broth.
The restaurant, owned by Frank and Sheri Longo and Jeremy and Jennifer Wilby, has been open six weeks. It sits in Woodlands Square Plaza, adjacent to a three-story, windowless AMC theater with all the architectural charm of Sing-Sing, and an accompanying parking lot the size of Raymond James Stadium. How do people put up with such chronic ugliness?
We were glad to take refuge inside Zax, which seemed almost too good for the burbs — its gorgeous interior features a blue-lit glass-block bar, black tablecloths and stylish brown-orange accents. The service was quiet, friendly and reasonably fast, and I was also glad I had dressed up just a little, so I was in synch with the restaurant's class demeanor. Pretty much everyone else, though, turned up in jogging bras and grubby T-shirts. (Maybe they should rename the burbs: Slob-urbia.)
Since Zax does not yet have a liquor license, we started with a glass of 1999 Pontormo wine ($6), paired with slices of fine, crisp semolina Italian bread and chilled butter. From the modest list of 12 appetizers, we chose steamed mussels ($6) — glistened upturned blue-black shells set in a cobalt-blue bowl, opened as if in prayer. Simple, straightforward, delicious.
The salads needed work. During our first visit, the Caesar salad ($6) greens suffered from blackened tips, too much dressing and bland croutons; a little shaved Parmesan would have been great on top. The house salad ($5) exhibited problems too — during the first visit, its greens were grizzled. During the second visit, the greens were crispy and fresh, but were incorrectly dried, so they were too wet to properly hold dressing. However, we did like the tasty dressings. (A dinner entree comes with a salad, and at lunch, a smaller soup-salad combination costs $5).
My favorite main dish was herb-seared salmon ($16), a hefty piece of moist salmon coated with a mix of rosemary, thyme and parsley, pan-seared and topped with braised leeks and red wine sauce. The fish sat atop roasted garlic-mashed potatoes that left no doubt as to their home-cooked origin: Their csavory taste and smooth texture and smooth texture were perfect. French green beans added color on the side.
Another night, testing a meat entree, I ordered pork loin ($14), two lean pieces of pork, swathed in apple-garlic marinade, branded by the hot grill and topped with a wispy sauce. It was fresh, cooked exactly to medium-rare, but the applesauce needed more panache.
Similarly, the restaurant's version of the famous New Orleans dessert bananas Foster ($5) whispered when it needed to shout. Created at Brennan's, the famous New Orleans restaurant, the dish honored regular customer Richard Foster. The original recipe calls for bananas sauteed in rum, brown sugar and banana liqueur, and served over vanilla ice cream. Zax's rendition was close, except the chef substituted Frangelico, a hazelnut-flavored liqueur, for banana liqueur; more liberal shots of rum and liqueur would have given the dish real flair.
Our meals at Zax were pleasant and palatable. And I sure appreciated one aspect of the restaurant: Someone else caught, shucked and cooked the scallops.
Contact food critic Sara Kennedy at sara.kennedy@weeklyplanet.com or call 813-248-8888, ext. 116.
This article appears in Oct 23-29, 2002.