Prost Kitchen + Bar
3 out of 5 stars
2802 E. Bearss Ave., Tampa. Appetizers: $5-$11.50; entrees: $8-$24.50; desserts: $6-$8; beer, cocktails & wine: $5-$9.50. 813-466-5249, prostkitchen.com.
Food and drink culture is endlessly fascinating. Every language has a special word to accompany the communal clinking of glasses. For Germans, it’s “prost.” Their tradition holds that you must look into each other’s eyes when you toast, lest you — get ready for this — have seven years of bad sex. Oh, my.
Historians report the ritual actually dates back to the days when it was fashionable to poison your enemies; eye contact was a hedge against errant toxins slopping over into your glass. Luckily, times have changed.
I usually try to be authentic when tasting, which would indicate selecting a German beer from the list of 20 tempting choices on tap at Tampa’s Prost Kitchen + Bar. But when I see Samuel Smith’s Nut Brown Ale, I can’t resist. My ancestors, you see, are from Yorkshire, and this one is brewed there with water from the original Old Brewery well sunk in 1758. The hard water is drawn from 85 feet underground, and fermentation in “stone Yorkshire squares“ creates a delicious pint with hints of almonds and walnuts on the palate.
While I revel in my ale, my companions go the cocktail route. The colorful “French 275” is a delightful blend of St. Petersburg Distillery’s Old St. Pete Gin, prosecco, lemon juice and blood orange. It’s bracingly fresh. Tea Thyme is for those of you looking for something sweet. With Deep Eddy Sweet Tea vodka, as well as Bärenjäger Honey Liqueur, the lime juice doesn’t really have a chance; a sprig of thyme adds a pleasant herbal note.
My posse keeps referring to Prost as a German restaurant. Although the name is obviously of that origin, the bill of fare bleeds over into other world cuisines with flatbreads, goulash and tacos. Our appetizer choices are superb. A long, rectangular slate plate features a quartet of Italian arancini. These are huge crispy orbs nearly the size of billiard balls. They’re made of Parmesan risotto stuffed with mozzarella and sun-dried tomatoes — breaded and deep fried. Each one sits on a thick bed of intense marinara wearing a basil pesto hat under a snow of grated Parmesan.
Then, there’s a big white platter packed with crispy house-cut tavern chips, topped with tiny pork belly chunks, scallions, radish and diced tomatoes. The menu claims the dish is smothered in beer cheese fondue. In reality, the chips sit on a slick of beer cheese. It’s good, but I want some more. I wish the chips were smothered. That said, it’s still a nice combo.
Four potato pancakes are also a big hit. It’s the first time I’ve ever had them finished with goat cheese and scallions. Traditional sour cream is a luscious complement, and the surprising apple cider reduction is tangy, yet I still miss classic applesauce. While I’m lamenting, however, my companions finish them off and smile like Cheshire cats.
Served on a big wooden board, the sausage platter entree allows you to choose three juicy grilled sausages on a bed of soft sauerkraut, accompanied by German “senf” mustard and a grainy version with an odd finish. There’s also a soft mini-pretzel.
Unfortunately, our other mains go downhill.
The flounder, beer battered fresh to order, arrives with steak fries, tartar sauce and lemon. Fish and chips is typically cod or haddock fillets for a reason. This frozen flounder can’t retain the texture required — it’s mushy. The steak fries, though, are better. They’re huge, and we receive so many that I swear we must’ve had two whole potatoes’ worth. Due to thickness, they’re not super crispy, but they are well cooked with soft, seductive centers.
Sadly, the Jägerschnitzel plate, a most tradition German dish, is a failure of technique on every level. The pork isn’t pounded thin, and is overcooked; this renders the meat dry and unappetizing. It sits on a huge pile of spaetzle, the wonderful, eggy, pasta-like mini-German dumpling. I’ve seen several tweaks to add flavor: use of bacon fat and/or nutmeg in the dough, a quick pan sauté for some caramelization, or a toss with salty butter. These are a soft, lush vehicle for the sauce that, here, is totally lacking. The mushroom gravy, which defines “Jäger,” is dull and mostly absent. There are a few tablespoons on the meat and none on the virtually flavorless spaetzle. It’s the first time in my life that I didn’t gobble down every little dumpling I could get my hands on. Meanwhile, the tiny Brussels sprouts are mushy, an unusual indicator that they, too, were frozen. The plate needs rehab.
Prost offers two dessert options. One is a baked-to-order chocolate chip cookie in a diminutive, sizzling cast-iron skillet, topped with creamy vanilla ice cream that’s sprinkled with candied pecans and drizzled with honey. Who doesn’t love warm cookies? The other is a disappointing German chocolate cake that’s dry — with strangely muted flavors. It’s three layers of chocolate cake filled with an icing of caramel, coconut and pecans. Eat the cookie.
There are many other dishes we couldn’t sample, but the apps give me hope that the kitchen will fix its problematic entrees. And remember, the next time you clink glasses, gaze into your drinking buddy’s eyes. Your love life depends on it. Prost!
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.
