Now that football season has started, you might be hunting for a good place to watch the Tampa Bay Buccaneers march toward their second Super Bowl championship. A few basic requirements apply here — a crisp, color picture on big screen TV, comfy chairs, full bar and decent eats.
I can't think of a better place on Game Day than Fletcher's.
The huge TV screen is visible from every table, there are more sets over the bar, and Chef Keith Esbin's chow sure does beat the pigskin off the predictable, fried junk most sports bars put out for patrons.
Think fat quesadillas crammed with moist, grilled chicken, peppers, onions and Mexican cheeses served with pico de gallo, sour cream and jalapenos. Think lush warm apple salad, made with red wine and cinnamon-marinated apples, arugula and baby greens, gorgonzola, spiced walnuts, and Kendall-Jackson Cabernet Sauvignon vinaigrette. Or just a simple, 8-ounce, quality hamburger, or a fancy portobello and artichoke pizza.
Oh, Baby.
We're talking a good-size restaurant with 120 seats, all the better for working up the positive karma necessary to help the home team win. The building used to house the 42nd Street Bistro, which suffered from mediocre fare and closed; but its interior remained, reddish brown walls matched with spiffy black, white and gold tablecloths and napkins, accented with polished wood. A long bar traversed one side of the dining room, and an open kitchen occupied the other, where you could watch the chefs whipping up your order.
One day when I was there for lunch, the staff of WDAE-1250 AM was setting up the equipment to broadcast its Sports Animal show, which broadcasts from the restaurant every Wednesday from 3 to 7 p.m.
During another visit, we were busy checking out the wine list and found its selection poor, but at least its less than stellar choices were reasonably priced. Better idea: Skip the wine and order cold beers instead or one of the fancy drinks, like the one I sampled: the Luxury Belvedere Cosmopolitan ($6.50), the glass sweating bullets and filled with Belvedere Vodka, Cointreau, cranberry and lime juice. A single Maraschino cherry sat like an edible ruby at the bottom.
Our quesadilla appetizer ($6.95) that night contained four slices, so fat they spat their innards out under the pressure of my bite. Good chicken, fresh veggies, gooey with cheese accompanied by two little cups for dipping — one a white drift of sour cream, the other a nice pico de gallo relish made with bits of bright tomato, onion and herbs.
While my dinner companion munched an elegant Greek salad ($7.95) featuring romaine, tomatoes, red onion, peppers, cucumber, big bites of feta, kalamata olives, pepperoncini and toasted pita, I enjoyed the soup of the day, a culinary work of art disguised as lobster bisque ($3/cup). Its broth was soupy rather than thick, but it worked because it was so hot, rich and flavorful with bits of lobster, crawfish and baby shrimp in a smooth, sherried and buttery medium.
With a satisfied sigh and big groan, my dining partner finally finished the gigantic salad, and the server took its heavy plate away. Almost immediately, another plate appeared, bearing an 8-ounce filet mignon grilled exactly medium rare ($19.95), finished with a silky river of hollandaise and sprinkled with herbs. Each entrée arrived with cubed, roasted red potatoes and sautéed vegetables.
Mine was not all that complex, but it was a carefully done, crusty, grilled wedge of salmon ($13.95), layered with a tangy, thick-textured horseradish, and freshened with cucumber-dill yogurt salad. The salmon was fresh, and the crunch of cucumbers against its flaky, rosy flesh gave the dish a nice contrast. It was cooked exactly right.
Speaking of expertise with fish, the restaurant has just hired a new chef, Toshi Endo, to supervise the addition of new sushi items to the menu in the next couple of weeks; so the regulars have something to look forward to.
Our conversation had died temporarily as we looked, tasted and swapped various dishes. Apparently, two women sitting quietly at a table at night is still considered an invitation by some, since a man approached and began with the classic line: "I don't want to seem like I'm trying to pick you up, but …"
We shut him down.
Unmolested after that, we moved along to dessert. My coconut cream pie was one of the evening's only real disappointments, as it sat on a lame crust and its filling was forgettable, and with pie, what else is there? The chef said it was one of a couple of the eatery's desserts made commercially — he should drop it from the menu.
My companion did better with a tropical fruit parfait ($4.50), freshly made right there with mango, pineapple and strawberries sandwiched between layers of pound cake and smooth, cold guava cream. It was excellent.
One of my favorite desserts — bananas foster ($5.95) — was unavailable during both of my visits. The server said the kitchen had run out of the brown sugar used to make it. I was dismayed because someone I knew had taken a cooking class Chef Keith taught, and thought it so terrific.
Oh well, it's a welcome excuse to return for another round of tasting.
Food Editor Sara Kennedy dines anonymously, and Weekly Planet pays for her meals. She can be reached at sara.kennedy@weeklyplanet.com or 813-248-8888 ext. 116.
This article appears in Sep 11-17, 2003.