The Rez Grill
3 out of 5 stars
Seminole Hard Rock Hotel & Casino, 5223 N. Orient Road, Tampa. Appetizers: $8-$21; entrees: $15-$85; desserts: $9-$12; cocktails: $10-$12; beer: $6-$7; wines by the glass: $8-$30. 813-627-7625; seminolehardrocktampa.com.
I don’t have the gambling gene. On my trips to Las Vegas — a fabulous food city — or to review restaurants at Tampa’s Seminole Hard Rock Hotel & Casino, I’m like a fish out of water. I wander past the sensory overload of whirring lights and the cacophonous buzz like a cultural anthropologist from another world.
As you make your way from the new, improved parking area, there are giant photos of rock stars and display cases with costumed mannequins letting you get up close and personal with outfits from Beyoncé, Nicki Minaj, and Carrie Underwood. I feel a bit like a rat in a maze.
Buzzed-about chef Frank Anderson’s Rez Grill is recently opened — and the wayfinding system hasn’t caught up. We stop and ask at a desk by the escalator near the mezzanine, but our inquiry is met with a blank stare. We trek on to Council Oak Steaks & Seafood, only to be told to retrace our steps. It turns out that the aforementioned escalator is indeed our path.
The elevated comfort food menu at The Rez spotlights locally sourced, sustainably farmed ingredients, while the spacious, modern-rustic interior features a splendid open kitchen and a see-through glass wine cellar.
Pan-fried golden brown, the Maryland lump crab cake duo starter has some punch from white lightning sauce and spicy remoulade. Crisp apple-celery root slaw provides a perfect textural contrast. So far, so good.
The Benton’s ham, however, is an egregious example of a dish at odds with itself. The three warm house biscuits are perfection — what you dream of in that realm — and the cherry pepper jam and redeye aioli are Southern touches well-matched to tweaking Benton’s Smoky Mountain country ham. It’s beautifully presented on a huge wooden board, with more than a dozen paper-thin slices folded in half and tiled in overlapping rows. You salivate just looking. But when you bring the ham and biscuit to your mouth in anticipation of that first transporting bite, all illusions shatter. The ham is stone cold, as if it sliced right from the freezer. This is a crying shame for a superb gourmet product. When I eat leftovers from a huge portion the next day at the proper temperature, the flavors soar.
Also a starter, the chicken liver is a thick spread rather than a slice cut from a terrine of pâté. It’s slathered with sweet lingonberries to counter the richness of the liver. The liver, unfortunately, is one-dimensional and seems underseasoned. The accompanying toast from a rustic loaf is well-nigh perfect. A salad of red julienned radish sticks dotted with bright-green leaves adds color, texture and acidity.
On to the entrees.
Prime wagyu is a 5-ounce, A4 Japanese beef filet that’s an interesting, but odd, riff on a Reuben sandwich. The meltingly tender meat is rubbed with pastrami spices and served on top of caramelized sauerkraut bits with fingerling potatoes, mustard and horseradish cream. Crisp, ultra-thin slices of marbled rye complete the garnish. It’s a memorable cut with an $85 price tag. Next time, I think I’ll opt for the more modest ribeye cap with béarnaise.
The beautiful, wide noodles of the pappardelle pasta are bathed in peppery amatriciana tomato sauce with brightness from Meyer lemons, plus a textural garnish of panna grata (coarse Italian bread crumbs). As is true in Italy, there isn’t lots of extra sauce — which, for American tastes, is a shame because an absolutely huge piece of grilled bread covers the bowl from edge to edge. For me, the lovely chunks of delicate lobster are overwhelmed by the tomatoes’ acidity and the spicy mix of black and crushed red pepper that give the amatriciana its fire.
Grouper en papillote is a traditional, yet rarely seen, French preparation in which the fillet is wrapped and cooked in parchment with turned vegetable pieces. This retains all the juices so that when you peel back the package, the dish is delightfully moist. Certainly the combo of carrots, turnips, radish and cipollini onions is colorful, although the fish is small, bland and woefully underseasoned. Cooking “en papillote” is somewhat akin to poaching in terms of flavor profile. It’s a gentle approach that caresses the protein, which means assertive flavors aren’t to be expected. But this dish needs basic salt and pepper (and the lemon hollandaise is really aioli).
The desserts represent the zenith and nadir of our meal. In a shallow bowl with fresh blueberry purée, brilliant lemon curd spread is topped with piped dots of creamy, torched meringue and sprinkled with crumble and micro greens. It is the dessert of the year.
Pecan pie, on the other hand, supremely disappoints. The Jack Daniel’s ice cream is inspired, and the candied bacon is good but extraneous. The problem lies inside the flaky pastry. Instead of a wedge, the pie is individual and deep-dish, resembling a famous Melton Mowbray pork pie. And instead of a silky amalgam of butter, eggs, corn syrup and brown sugar embracing copious amounts of toasted nut meats, the filling is deep, thick and under-sweetened — with pecans as garnish. What should be outstanding is inedible.
What’s a foodie to do in the face of schizo selections where sublime elements meet unforced errors that tank the concept of some dishes? On my previous visits to the Hard Rock, both Council Oak and the late Grey Salt delivered the perfection that a luxury price point demands. So far, though, The Rez Grill’s promise is unfulfilled. There are wonderful, glorious peaks, but, sadly, also unnecessary valleys.
CL Food Critic Jon Palmer Claridge dines anonymously when reviewing. Check out the explanation of his rating system, or email him at [email protected].
