CW’s Gin Joint
3.5 out of 5 stars
633 N. Franklin St., Tampa. Appetizers: $6-$21; entrees: $22-$44; desserts: $8-$11; cocktails: $10-$14; wines by the glass: $4-$25. 813-816-1446; cwginjoint.com.
Carolyn Wilson’s Gin Joint is a splendid and atmospheric speakeasy. It uncharacteristically announces itself in downtown Tampa with an Art Deco marquee festooned with hundreds of bright bulbs to lure you in “where style and grace have an attitude.” The dim, sultry interior is immediately seductive.
And now that Zack Gross’s stunning deviled eggs at Z Grille are, sadly, a thing of the past, it’s nice to know someone is picking up the mantle. Gin Joint Head Chef Cody Tiner offers three elevated flavors he dubs “angeled.” Certainly, the tasty trio on our visit of salmon, chorizo-potato and hummus with crisp chickpea garnish are heavenly variations and worthy of the name swap.
Even better is the bisque, which includes full shrimp and a thick, ultra-rich base of saffron cream laced with brandy. Each spoonful has great depth and matches up to the challenge of substituting shrimp for lobster without missing a beat. It’s one of the most complex seafood bisques that I’ve encountered — built around a dark stock that shouts with flavor.
The inspired surprise of our starters is the portobella mushrooms cut to resemble fries, then coated in panko bread crumbs and fried till deliciously crisp. A tangy aioli dip only adds to the layers of flavor. It’s a nice way to start (or a yummy side for mushroom fans).
We commence entrees with the day’s fresh catch: a crispy skin grouper fillet with shredded cabbage and fennel in white-wine cream. The flavors are pure, and the fish is the star. It’s a delight.
Duck confit features a leg joint from a Moulard duck, a hybrid that crosses Muscovy drake with Pekin hen to create a sizable bird. The leg has a wonderful crispy skin, sitting atop absolutely delicious red cabbage and toothsome fingerling potatoes with the sheen of duck fat. This one’s tied together with a demi-glace laced with Jerez sherry. If you’re a fan of duck, as I am, don’t miss it.
Braised, boneless short ribs deliver with the aid of cipollini onions, crisp bacon and sautéed mushrooms. These elements rest on a smooth celery root purée — classic and textbook.
With the addition of oblique cuts of tangy wild boar sausage and large, earthy oyster mushrooms, black rice risotto is an interesting thought. But it lacks the lush creaminess that the usual arborio or carnaroli rice deliver. While grated Parmigiano-Reggiano may add flavor, the seductive texture that takes risotto to operatic highs is missing.
Have you noticed that the Brussels sprout, a previously reviled vegetable, has now become hip and trendy? Chefs have cracked the code; add some char and bacon — and a touch of something sweet (in this case a honey drizzle) — and diners clamor for more. The Gin Joint serves its version, and several other sides, in mini cast-iron skillets. I’ve been doing sprouts at Thanksgiving for years, following Julia Child’s recipe with hazelnuts and brown butter, so I’m not as wowed as a few of my tasters. However, for those who’ve been averse to trying the small wonders, this is a good place to be converted.
Greens au gratin is a skillet of wilted black kale, spinach and cabbage in a mozzarella béchamel topped with crispy panko crumbs. Our batch seems under-seasoned and not nearly as flavorful as the sautéed cabbage accompanying the duck. That being said, it's a shortcoming that's easily remedied.
I must admit that when I see canned white asparagus on the menu, I’m shocked. Veggies in cans are mere shadows of their fresh cousins — especially asparagus. But I take a forkful with an open mind and am pleasantly surprised. They are super-tender, as advertised, in a cream reduction subtly laced with tarragon. Toasted bread crumbs provide texture, though the real treat is the unnamed vinegar acidity that makes the dish pop. Who knew?
Arriving on a stunning dessert cart, tropical bananas Foster is a lukewarm disappointment because, apparently, local regulations don’t allow proper tableside flambé. Still, the flavors work. House-made coconut gelato and macadamia nail the tropical angle, but the precut banana cake unwrapped by the server tableside is too hard to be appealing. My expectations are dashed.
Luckily, île flottante — aka floating island, which is also a throwback — is another scrumptious surprise. Soft meringue may look like snow-capped peaks from a far-off volcanic island, yet it’s light and luscious. The sweet mixture retains plenty of body and marries well with the surrounding sea of lovely vanilla custard. Add some toasted almonds, plus bits of crackling dark caramel, and you’ve got a dessert winner. It’s rare to see the option on a menu nowadays, but my table is in love, reaching again and again for deceptively airy spoonfuls. And, poof — the landscape is bare.
The Gin Joint’s secret weapon is the genius of spirits, Dean Hurst. His Gin Matrix profiles flavors of more than 50 gins, and it’s a work of art that demands study. Our multiple G&Ts are served in elegant stemware (not in traditional rocks glasses) with a single, large spherical ice cube — all the better to savor the aromas. Looks like there’s serious homework to be done.
Without a weekend spot reserved, several Yelpers squealed they were treated discourteously upon arrival. My posse visited on an off-night and found the staff to be most friendly and attentive, but do make a reservation if your plan is to visit during peak hours.
CL Food Critic Jon Palmer Claridge dines anonymously when reviewing. Check out the explanation of his rating system, or email him at [email protected].
