The Galley
2 out of 5 stars
27 Fourth St. N., St. Petersburg. Appetizers: $8-$12; sandwiches and mains: $8-$36; dessert: $7; beer: $3-$8; wines by the glass: $7-$12; liquor: $4-$10. 727-575-7071; thegalleydtsp.com.
What you first notice as you approach The Galley walking along Fourth Street in downtown St. Pete is an evil-eyed bright orange octopus. The sea creature's enormous, curving arms reach through the undulating waves as it prepares to swallow a masted schooner. Christy Carr's giant outdoor mural is striking.
The Galley is the brainchild of local pals Pete Boland and Ian Taylor, who have created an ambience inside the tavern that could easily be seen in London. The decor details nail the nautical theme: A copper diving helmet, captain's wheel chandelier, bar stools with leather and brass upholstery pins, wood-on-wood box beams, and a huge, charming old Florida map on the back wall. There's also a handsome dark-wood, mirrored full liquor bar and the promise of a perfect pour of Guinness for $5.
When I arrive, part of my tasting team is already quaffing a sample of a local IPA from a cute miniature tasting mug. It passes muster. Another companion opts for ginger ale. What arrives is a glass of ice filled with a nearly flavorless liquid that lacks both sugar and appropriate fizz. Sadly, it sets the stage for all that follows.
We decide to begin with traditional starters of fish spread, fried okra and wings. Our server apologizes — the okra on the menu has been replaced with fried avocado. We're game. Out come two baskets of fried brown stuff garnished with kale. At first glance, it's hard to tell them apart. They each have small stainless cups of sauce. One is white (blue cheese for the wings), and the other is flaming sunset red (Sriracha aioli). The avocado is a nice idea, but skip the sauce, which overwhelms the lushness of the fruit.
You've got four choices of tavern wing preparations; we select "Old Bay." While the wings are cooked well, they're over seasoned. The spices scream when they should enchant. It's no longer about the the flavor of the chicken drumettes and flaps — even fried bar food needs balance.
The Gulfport fish spread looks promising, but upon closer examination, the croutons (called whole-grain crackers on the menu) are singed at the edge. No, not singed, some are plain burnt. The fish spread only adds to the problem. The local catch is house-smoked, though the smoke is overpowering. So much so that a tablemate takes one bite and proclaims it tastes like "eating a campfire." What could be a highlight crashes and, well, no need to be redundant.
I'm excited about the upscale "filet" cheesesteak. Hey, it's $20, but reading about it has my mouth watering. It uses filet mignon instead of traditional wafer steak, adding melted havarti along with peppers and pickled shiitakes. The sandwich teases with the promise of Cognac cream sauce and bone-marrow butter, two elements that don't register. Sadly, the meat is overdone, too, and doesn't deliver its luxe intent.
Poor execution or conception also dooms our other choices. The St. Pete grouper sandwich is dry and can't be rescued by interesting house pickle aioli with fried capers, and the crispy vegan buffalo tofu 'wich is coated with so much Sriracha, as to be unrelenting, that it goes uneaten. Our T.B. Cuban is extra crispy and dominated by pork, while the house pickles have no punch of acidity, which is needed. The Galley kitchen can't seem to find the Goldilocks zone.
All of these "staple sands" come with steak fries that need to be crisper. More importantly, they reflect the style that doesn't embrace restraint. Perhaps the heavy salt and pepper are meant to be a signature, but no one at the table wants to eats their fries. We try a dip in the stainless-steel cup of ketchup, making it worse. The sour sauce is either a misguided attempt at house-made or Heinz well past the expiration date. It's just short of revolting.
When I'm out tasting I almost always try to include two desserts in the mix, especially if they're done in-house. This completes the puzzle to get a full picture of a food service. Do the choices make sense with the restaurant's aspirations? Is each well-conceived and, more importantly, delivered with finesse?
The Galley offers two dessert options, so there are no decisions to be made. "We'll have both the rum cake and the weekly dessert feature." As it turns out, our server delivers the sad news that the sweet special is not available, but they "do have the rum cake."
A martini glass of chocolate mousse, dotted with orange zest and a piece of bacon, arrives. The server reports that, oops, there's no rum cake. But there is this. The texture is like pudding — soft and creamy, yet one-dimensional. In fact, the orange predominates, masking the chocolate. The bacon is soft and superfluous. Perhaps a crisp garnish would be better, but as presented it makes no sense; the dish is out of balance. I'd describe it as orange-chocolate pudding, so the appropriate garnish would be a citrus wedge. Although it's not unpleasant, it continues the trend of execution that disappoints.
I take no pleasure in these conclusions when locals so lovingly create an atmospheric tavern. However, I owe it to you readers to describe what I encounter, for good or ill. One of my guests loves his beer, but quips as we exit that he's going home "ready for a bowl of cereal."
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.
