Adventures in Deep South 2013

It's that time of year again for our roundup of noteworthy food happenings from the annual family trip to the Carolina shore. Unlike summers past, this time we made the trek northbound from Tampa and managed to arrive at our destination (Ocean Isle Beach, NC) after only a single day of driving (hallelujah!). With less transit time to sample the Deep South's culinary treasures, our story had to begin before we even left town. First up was a visit to the local branch of Nicola's Donuts and Cupcakes (15006 N. Dale Mabry), which receives my vote for the area's best fried dough. My plan was to pick up a half-dozen donuts to tide us over until our mid-morning breakfast stop (we were planning to leave home under a cloak of darkness around 5 am) the next day.

It's a little challenging to find Nicola's Dale Mabry location since it recently moved into a shared space with one of the latest frozen yogurt operations (in this case, the Yogurt Spot) that seem to be popping up around here like mushrooms following a rainstorm. In fact, there's only a little pink-and-orange Nicola's sticker on the window to indicate to unsuspecting passersby that high-quality donuts are inside. The gal working the counter (who herself appeared a bit befuddled about the whole yogurt-donut shop arrangement) told us that Nicola's still makes all of their baked goods at the flagship store on Busch Avenue and drops off fresh product every morning.

The available offerings were impressive - I opted for all cake donuts, including chocolate choco iced, red velvet, vanilla coconut, vanilla maple, and chocolate sprinkles (see photo above). I also tried a chocolate lava drop cupcake and ate it on the premises before leaving; unfortunately, it looked better than it tasted (too much frosting). As for the donuts, I was a little concerned that they might not be so fresh the next morning (Nicola's specifically advises customers to enjoy them the same day as they're not made to last), but I can tell you that day-old Nicola's still beat the pants off of the same-day product you get from most other donut purveyors. Our stash was completely gone before we made it to Jacksonville.

Upon arrival in North Carolina, we spent the majority of our week of sun/surf simply overstuffing our bodies with the ample traditional vittles prepared by my aunts in the beachhouse kitchen. We didn't actually explore areas off the island until Thursday, when we made our now-traditional trip up to Wilmington with the progeny in tow to visit the local children's museum. Rather than head straight back to Ocean Isle Beach, we made a detour over to Carolina Beach (which appears to be sort of a mini-version of the Jersey shore) to find another celebrated donut shop called Britt's (we did actually eat things other than donuts on the trip, although I'll forgive you for thinking that).

Snugly nestled within Carolina Beach's two square block boardwalk, Britt's has been serving up hot glazed (and only glazed) donuts during tourist season since 1939 (see photo above). What the store lacks in creature comforts (like air conditioning, sand-free floors, and comfortable seating), it makes up for in flavorful goodness.

Saveur Magazine recently included Britt's among the top 50 donut shops in America (that's where I first heard of them) and I can clearly see why. Day after day, Britt's turns out mass quantities of featherlight, ethereal fried yeast dough circles that are like a warm, sugary pillow for your taste buds (see photo above). Not the least bit greasy or cloying, these beauties put my previous hot glazed donut champ (Krispy Kreme) to shame. No one looked at us askance when we ordered 2 dozen to go (I got the impression that this was not an unusual request) for the rest of the family back at the beachhouse, who promptly consumed the whole lot before sunup the next day.

Oh yes, you can also get seafood near the ocean. Roadfood.com makes note of a popular seafood restaurant called Crabby Oddwaters in neighboring Sunset Beach (you can follow the link here), which we decided to check out on the last night of our trip (Friday night is usually reserved for consuming leftovers out of the beachhouse refrigerators in lieu of a cooked meal). The service at the joint wasn't exactly stellar, but I can't complain about the bill of fare. First up were a gratis basket of to-die-for hush puppies (accompanied by a sweet butter spread, not that they needed it) and a half-dozen Oysters Rockefeller (see photo below):

For an entree, I went with one of the house specialty buckets (which arrives at the table not in a bucket, but in a large roasting pan). The Islander features a smorgasbord of delectables, including some giant oysters, clams, sweet mussels, shrimp, corn on the cob, sliced red potatoes, and a slab of sausage similar to kielbasa, all steamed in a broth of white wine, garlic, and butter (see photo below).

I needed my big boy pants (presumably for the extra room) to get through this beast and I still came up a bit short. The bucket comes with a shucker to open up the oysters, a few of which were so challenging that I had to retain the assistance of our server (and even she had some problems). Here's hoping the local levels of heavy metal contamination are low because I ended up with a whole lot of the ecosystem in my belly.

When the time came to depart for home, I hatched a plan I'd conceived long before our trip was ever on the calendar. If we left the island around 6 am, my calculations told me that we'd arrive in Charleston, SC just as the front door of Hominy Grill opened at 9 o'clock for their Saturday brunch service. For the uninitiated, Hominy Grill has been serving up dining classics of the Carolina Lowcountry (shrimp and grits, for example) out of its historical digs in Charleston (about 10 minutes from the harbor) for almost 20 years and is beloved to the point that its owner/chef (Robert Stehling) is now gaining national recognition for his efforts. Of course, with notoriety comes demand, and my fear was that we'd arrive to find a large crowd ahead of us all waiting for their weekend morning fix. Amazingly, we pulled into the parking lot next to the barn-like structure (see photo below) at exactly 9 am and were able to stroll right in.

The Hominy Grill decor can be best described as modern farmhouse, all wood and whitewash and consistent with the stick-to-your-ribs cuisine. I had to resist my urge to simply order one of everything on the menu and chose the lowcountry omelette (Charleston red rice with shrimp gravy, home fries, and toast), which I was extremely pleased with (see photo below) until I had a bite of Mrs. Hackknife's "big nasty biscuit", a mindblowing melange of fried chicken breast, cheddar cheese, and sausage gravy on a homemade biscuit, at which point regret set in.

I needed this piece of buttermilk pie to make me whole again (and it certainly did):

By the time our server brought our to-go box of the house banana bread and we made a quick restroom visit (the lavatory gets points for being spacious, clean, and private enough to change 2 kids out of pajamas/brush teeth), the wait for tables had reached hour-long status; luckily, we were free to proceed onward with our journey home. After such an elaborate breakfast, I opted to go lowbrow for lunch, pulling off I-95 near Brunswick, GA to grab some burgers at Krystal. I was vaguely aware that Krystal is the South's version of White Castle, but I'd never had the opportunity to pop into one until now. Unfortunately, I don't know that I picked the best place to stop (it wasn't exactly the most hygienic restaurant I'd ever set foot in), but we pressed forward with our order nonetheless.

What you're looking at above is the famous Krystal burger, and if you think it resembles a White Castle slider, you'd be right. The Krystal chain was founded in 1932 (a good 11 years after WC) and rumored to have been inspired by those dirty Yankees running White Castles up north. Interestingly, the two companies cover geographical territories that are nearly independent of each other, with the exception of Kentucky and Tennessee, where they somehow co-exist without civil war. Anyhoo, my personal assessment of the Krystal burger is that it's not quite as thick, onion-y, or flavorful as a slider, and truth be told, the mustard (which a slider does NOT have) doesn't adequately take the place of that little layer of grease that soaks into a slider bun. Still, it'll have to do in a pinch when I'm stuck in Florida craving a fast food mini-burger with no White Castles to be found within 700 miles (or maybe I'll just go to Waffle House instead)...

Strawberry-Preztel Ice Cream

Because we are now residents of the South (I've heard Florida specifically described as "the South's Dumpster" by tongue-in-cheek sources), Mrs. Hackknife thought it might be a good idea for us to subscribe to Southern Living Magazine (the original idea was Coastal Living; however, we quickly discovered that this publication would also encompass such locales as Mendocino and Nantucket, not quite prime examples of tropical culture). As fate would have it, the very first issue of Southern Living that arrived on our doorstep (July 2013) had a feature article listing 56 no-cook summer recipes. After anxiously paging through all 56 recipes, I decided to start at the back in the dessert section with a sinful-sounding strawberry-pretzel ice cream. Unlike other homemade ice cream recipes I've tried that include, well, cream, this particular version employs cream cheese, buttermilk, and half and half instead to yield more of a smooth, custard-like confection. If you're so inclined, you can stop with just the base or throw in more ingredients to gussy it up a bit. In order to make strawberry-pretzel, I needed a combination of fresh strawberries and strawberry preserves, plus some chopped fresh basil and crushed pretzel sticks. Since my Cuisinart ice cream maker is fairly low capacity, I was forced to mix in by hand in all of the pretzels and about 1/4 of the strawberries after the maker had done its thing (lest I overflow the whole contents). The final result was incredibly soft (almost too much so) and, even after firming it up in the freezer for a while, still had a not-unpleasant loose consistency. Regardless, neither my kids nor my niece/nephews visiting from Chicago had any problems gobbling down this icy treat, although they were all a little put off by the "odd green flecks" (maybe we'll omit the basil next time)...

Chicago Trip Highlights/Terzo Piano/Blackbird

Last month, I dragged Hackknife Jr. and Hackknifette up to Chicago for 9 days (Mrs. Hackknife was also able to join us for a portion of that time), thus satisfying my urges to take full advantage of the kids' summer break. The "official" reason for our first return trip since the move was to visit friends and family we'd left behind; of course, off the record, I shamelessly used the experience to stuff my face with coveted local delicacies that I can no longer obtain whenever the spirit moves me. This included (but was certainly not limited to):

1. Gino's East deep-dish pizza, with a sausage patty covering the entire area of the pie instead of scattered sausage chunks (you bet my spiking LDL, I did). Although the Gino's outlet of my childhood (near Golf and Algonquin in Rolling Meadows) finally closed shop earlier this year, enthusiasts can still find the good stuff on Higgins in Rosemont.

(say hi to Maurie and Flaurie)

2. My personal vote for best Chicago-style hot dog in a city full of, well, Chicago-style hot dogs (I just realized what a dumb statement that was) Superdawg, serving up boxes of beefy nirvana since 1948 at the intersection of Devon, Nagle, and Milwaukee. Although you can't tell from the picture, there is a beautifully-crafted Chicago dog underneath the crinkle-cut fries (also some of the best in town), pickle spear, sport pepper, and green tomato quarter, which I finally deigned to try for the first time instead of tossing it aside as usual (it turns out they're not half-bad).

3. A luscious Italian beef sandwich with sweet peppers from Portillo's, a Chicago institution now beginning to extend its tentacles out-of-state, including California and Arizona. I took this expansion to be a sign that perhaps a Florida location would not be too far off; alas, Portillo's corporate regrettably confirms that this is not the case (I emailed them to ask).

4. What you see above is called a Johnny Pop. Devised by Long Grove Confectionery in historic downtown Long Grove, IL, it's an apple cider doughnut dipped in chocolate and served on a stick. Had I not known that the doughnut was apple cider, I probably wouldn't have been able to tell, but the chocolate alone was worth the effort.

5. I'm embarrassed to admit that a terrific ice cream parlor has been dishing out premium sweets in my hometown (Mt. Prospect, IL) since 2001 and, until recently, I'd been largely oblivious to its existence (granted, I'd left Mt. Prospect for good 8 years earlier, but still). Chef Jim Capannari opened Capannari Ice Cream (10 S. Pine) in the old Moehling General Store/Post Office (circa 1882) and hasn't looked back, churning up flavors like Lick the Bowl Cake Batter and Frango Mint (which I had to sample on my first visit). I didn't really need more reasons to visit Mt. Prospect again, but apparently, I've found another.

Lest you think that my dining selections in the Windy City were completely limited to lowbrow nostalgia, I made sure that we included some highfalutin nosh as well. While Mrs. H and I enjoyed an adults-only day of fun downtown at the Art Institute, we popped in for lunch at Terzo Piano, a place we never managed to cross off our list when we were locals. TP is primarily a lunch place (open for dinner only on Thursdays) located on the third floor of the museum's relatively-new modern wing. Originally conceived by Chef Tony Mantuano (of Spiaggia fame) to highlight seasonal Italian cuisine, the restaurant is mainly run by alums of Spiaggia. Even though it's been open for about 3 years, reservations are still a bit hard to come by (we had to show up after 1 pm to get a table) and the all-white space is showing a little more wear/tear than I would have expected (I guess that's what happens with a steady stream of tourist traffic). Nonetheless, we were both pleased with our food choices, including the earthy (and ample) English pea spread crostino appetizer that you see below.

My entree consisted of an obscure noodle from Sardinia called malloreddus (I had to look it up - it's a bit canoe-shaped and grooved to maximize sauce retention) mixed with braised rabbit, chili flake, Parmesan, mint, pine nuts, and golden raisins (see photo below). There were so many wonderful flavors and textures at play in this dish that I hardly noticed the squall line blowing in from the west that darkened the room.

Our late lunch did nothing to dampen my enthusiasm for dinner at Blackbird (619 W. Randolph) a few hours later, another fine dining establishment that had eluded us all of these years. The crown jewel in Paul Kahan's local restaurant empire, the Michelin-starred Blackbird has been dazzling patrons for 15 years with a modern approach to classic French cooking. The decor is certainly modern (lots of shiny surfaces and straight lines) and you may want to reconsider your presence if noise/claustrophobia isn't your jam (i.e., it's loud and a bit cramped), but the food is nothing short of remarkable. We opted for the day's tasting menu and were not disappointed. My photos of each course are below (and, no, I wasn't using a yellow filter on the lens, that's just Blackbird's "mood lighting" in the dining room):

Shrimp from Laughing Bird Seafood (Costa Rica), date-kaffir lime consomme, green almonds

Chilled spring pea and tofu soup, paddlefish roe, puffed onion, licorice

Hamachi tartare, sprouted lentils, cured rhubarb, spicy marrow, chickweed

Foie gras torchon, kohlrabi, white grape, black sesame, shiitake broth (amazing!)

Roasted halibut, oyster cream, artichoke confit, sea beans, seeds

Wood-grilled sturgeon, chicken wings, marinated kale, turnips, walnut puree

Aged duck breast, broccoli, potato granola, sesame, raisin cream

Sartori raspberry bellavitano cow's milk cheese, pretzel crisps, chocolate stout crumbs, Valrhona Dulcey blond chocolate

Cucumber sorbet, tahitian vanilla, tomato, green strawberries

Roasted peanut ice cream, carrot-barley sponge, honey mousse, pickled carrot, opal basil (try to ignore the fact that it basically resembles vomit on a plate - trust me, it's fantastic)

Clearly, Blackbird operates at an elite level of both style and execution, a disciple of Charlie Trotter's as well as inspiration for newer upscale dining spots like Goosefoot. I have to nominate Chef David Posey's potato granola as the new titleholder for World's Greatest Invention (sorry, sliced bread) and how Dana Cree's intricate desserts made me swoon with little to no use of chocolate is beyond me. Get thee to Blackbird ASAP before this dynamic duo moves on to other ventures.

Bistec Adobado Tacos with Grilled Green Onions

Men's Journal strikes again - in the latest issue (July 2013), an entire article is devoted to the elevation of the taco from humble street food to serious dining fodder, including recipes for 5 different varieties (beef, pork, chicken, shrimp, and vegetarian) from famous taquerias across America. Chef Joe Hargrave of Tacolicious in San Francisco provided the beef taco recipe, a bistec adobado (flank steak marinated in a chile paste) served with grilled green onions, that caught my eye and inspired me to fire up the ol' Canteen grill. Up first, however, a trip to my local Latino grocery was in order to source the dried chile peppers (ancho, guajillo, and cascabel) needed for the marinade. El Grande Supermarket is located not too far from Hackknifette's preschool (near the intersection of Waters and Hanley, about 15 minutes from the homestead) and, while it doesn't exactly live up to its name (the store is about a quarter of the size of our usual Publix), I was able to find both the ancho and guajillo chiles I needed, plus some pineapple wafers for good measure (most of the store's activity was concentrated around the butcher counter, with scores of hungry patrons calling out orders in Spanish for lamb, goat, and tripe). Back home, I reconstituted the peppers in a warm bath of apple cider vinegar and water, shredded them in a food processor with browned onions/garlic and cumin to make a paste, then slathered the paste on my beautiful 2-lb. flank steak (courtesy of Publix) to marinate for a few hours. After that, the steak went on a hot grill for about 6 minutes each side, and, voila, I had the very tasty (and very pink) bistec adobado that you see in the photo on top, along with some surplus juices and grilled green onions. The family all seemed to enjoy the meat, except the corn tortillas I bought didn't hold up very well under the weight of the steak, onions, and all of our side toppings - in fact, Mrs. Hackknife suggested that we just eat the steak separately in the future (as sort of a carne asada) and put everything else on the side, which I did for lunch the remainder of the week. When paired with a little shredded cheese, sour cream, raw diced onion, lime juice, and a dollop of pureed chipotle pepper, you end up with a tasty dish that hits all the flavor receptors of the palate (sweet, salt, heat, fat, tart, and crunch). I'm now quite anxious to try the other 4 taco recipes in the coming months.


Bistec Adobado with Grilled Green Onions

1 tsp. cumin seeds (or 2 tsp. ground cumin)
1/3 c. apple cider vinegar
2 dried ancho chiles, stemmed and deseeded
2 dried guajillo or New Mexico chiles, stemmed and deseeded
1 dried cascabel chile, stemmed and deseeded (note - I omitted this)
1/4 medium yellow onion, chopped
4 garlic cloves, peeled
1 tsp. freshly ground black pepper
1 tbsp. kosher salt
2 lb. flank steak, skirt steak, or tri-tip
1 large bunch green onions, root ends trimmed
Lime wedges, chopped onions, and cilantro for garnish
12 tortillas

1. Toast cumin seeds in a skillet over medium heat for 1 minute, then grind in a spice grinder (note - skip this step if you are using ground cumin)
2. Heat vinegar and water in a pan until hot. Pour into a bowl with dried chile peppers and let stand for 15 minutes.
3. Put 3 tbsp. canola oil in a pan over medium heat, add onions and garlic, saute until browned, and place in a food processor. Add chiles, soaking liquid, cumin, black pepper, and salt. Puree into a thick, smooth paste.
4. Place steak and adobo paste in a large ziploc bag, massage to coat all sides, and refrigerate from 2 to 12 hours.
5. Remove steak from refrigerator 1-2 hours before cooking. Grill over medium-high heat 5-7 minutes per side. Set aside to rest covered for 10 minutes.
6. Rub green onions with 1 tbsp. canola or olive oil, grill until soft and slightly charred (about 2 minutes), and season with salt.
7. Cut steak into small pieces against the grain and season with salt/pepper. Serve with green onions, cilantro, chopped onions, and lime wedges.

Dishcrawl Dunedin

It's time to get back in the saddle again after a hectic month of June that included the end of the school year, a weeklong visit to the Canteen by the in-laws, and a 9-day trip back to Chicago to see family/friends (and eat, of course - posting to soon follow). I feel great shame about having only posted twice last month, but can only resolve to do better at this point, and I figure there is no better way to support my resolve by adding a new entry on July 1. So, without further delay, the following is a chronicle of my second Dishcrawl event in Tampa, a 4-stop tour of restaurants and watering holes in downtown Dunedin (pronounced "Done-Eden"), a charming, gulfside village located a mere 25 minutes from our new homestead. When I first met up with our Dishcrawl coordinator, Tracy, and the other members of our jolly band (I was solo this time as Mrs. Hackknife was out of town on business), we were at the Dunedin Smokehouse (471 Main Street). The Smokehouse is a honky-tonk style BBQ joint with live music to accompany the meaty goods emanating from the kitchen. In the few months I've been in Florida, I've come to realize that this area of the South is not the one where BBQ is the bedrock of the local culinary tradition; nonetheless, I now know that if I ever get a hankering for St. Louis pork ribs, we don't have to venture as far as Memphis - the Smokehouse ribs were tender and flavorful, nicely matched with a little of the house ancho barbeque sauce.

Just down the street from the Smokehouse is the fabulous Casa Tina (365 Main Street), a lively Mexican restaurant filled to the brim with skeleton-themed decor in homage to Mexico's Day of the Dead. Once served our Dishcrawl plates by Tina herself (her husband, Javier, helped found the original Senor Frog's, presumably not the tequila-fueled frat party then that the chain is today), we quickly realized that there's nothing morbid about the food (nor the house margaritas, for that matter). Perched on the dish were a bowl of terrific guacamole, a knockout version of mole poblano that would put a smile on Rick Bayless's face, and a unique stuffed poblano pepper (called chiles en nogada filled with picadillo (a mix of ground beef and tomatoes) and topped with brandy walnut cream and pomegranate seeds (see photo above). So taken was I with Casa Tina, I actually brought the family back a few evenings later for my Father's Day dinner (during which I had a pan-fried tilapia topped with a papaya/basil sauce, not quite as enjoyable as the first entrees). Throw in Cirque de Soleil-type entertainment (some of the waitstaff are aspiring trapeze artists) and endless baskets of fresh tortilla chips, and we have ourselves a favorite Tampa-area Mexican place.

From Casa Tina's, our group took a quick jaunt up the Pinellas County Trail to a beachcomber bar named Jolli Mon's Grill (941 Huntley Avenue), which bills itself as having "Caribbean food with a Floridian twist". Sadly, we didn't really get to experience much of this food, as we were provided with mostly unremarkable bar grub (cheese sticks, quesadillas, and the like). I'd happily return to catch a cold beer and a ballgame on the tube, but probably would venture back down the block a bit to Dunedin Brewery (937 Douglas Avenue) for more serious nosh and craft brews (Florida's first, founded 1996). Although I wasn't a huge fan of their most popular beer (the Apricot Peach Ale, which was a little sweet for my palate), there were plenty of others on the chalkboard that I'd be willing to sample (see photo below).

While a lively drum circle pounded away in the main dining room (if you ever need to scratch your hippie itch, it's there every Tuesday night at 8), us Dishcrawlers dined on ample-sized pulled pork sliders, fish tacos, and chicken wings (see photo below) in the separate beer lounge near the front of the building.

If I can somehow convince the wife to act as chauffeur come NFL season, I can see myself enjoying many beers and snacks here while watching Bears games on Sunday afternoons. So, to recap, Dunedin has what we need for BBQ, Mexican, and craft brew, all a stone's throw from the ocean. Perhaps this is the place to retire...

Bern's Steak House/Harry Waugh Dessert Room

"Respect the classics, man, it's Hendrix...", Fillmore (George Carlin), Cars (the movie)

More than any city in the country (with the possible exceptions of New York and San Francisco), Chicago is loaded with beloved, traditional eateries (not all of them good, by the way) that have long histories (going back several decades in some cases). In Tampa, however, there appears to be only two restaurants that can be described as such: Columbia (which was recently chronicled in this blog) and Bern's (1208 S. Howard), one of America's premier steakhouses, at least if you believe those advertisements in the airline magazines. Having read many of these magazines, Bern's was always the first restaurant that popped into my head whenever I heard the word "Tampa", long before I became a resident of this fair city. Now that we're here and being a firm believer that you can't really get to know a place's dining scene without experiencing its classic dining venues, Mrs. Hackknife and I made it a top priority to visit Bern's for dinner as soon as we possibly could. With my mom in town to watch the progeny, I made a Memorial Day evening reservation for the missus and I to get some Grade A beef, some good wine, and all the accoutrements.

Originally conceived as a saloon by founder Bern Laxer in the mid-1950's, Bern's was forced to add more words to its name because of phone company regulations (hence the moniker "Steak House") and also to serve food due to an unexpected dispute with a landlord over alcohol sales. At first, Bern and his wife Gert ran the joint as more of a luncheonette, but over time, the operation morphed into the elevated dining establishment that it is today, eventually expanding to include seating for 350, a wine cellar with selections that dwarf those of most restaurants, a cheese cave, and a separate "dessert room" upstairs. Throw in a thriving wine and takeout food business (Bern's Fine Wines), a popular second eatery serving modern cuisine (SideBern's), and even a small farm plot in northwest Tampa to grow some of the steakhouse's produce, and you've got quite a local juggernaut.

When the missus and I arrived at the restaurant, we briefly waited in the hostess foyer before being escorted to our table, spending a few moments taking in the manor house-meets-bordello vibe (red walls, portraits of comely Victorian ladies, etc.). The building's interior is a mazelike warren of mismatched dining rooms, giving the impression that they were added somewhat haphazardly over the years. Although some of the decorations slanted towards cheesy (a giant, faded aerial photo of what appeared to be a Tuscan village, for example), we were seated in a small room that was sparse, even a bit elegant. Now, if you're a frequent reader of this blog, you're no doubt aware that Mrs. Hackknife and I have dined in many different places in the past 10 years, but even we were a little intimidated by Bern's menu, which can only be described as encyclopedic, featuring a comprehensive history of the restaurant, a dizzying array of classic American and French-inspired dishes (think foie gras, steak tartare, shrimp cocktail, oysters, etc.), and charts documenting the weight, thickness, and price of each available steak cut (I noted 51 distinct combinations, not counting the several different sauce/topping options). I would have happily paid $19.95 just to have a copy of the menu to bring home for my archives and I won't even try to address the wine list, which had a depth/breadth of vino selections that would have made Robert Parker blush.

Once our heads stopped spinning and with some guidance from our helpful server, we decided to start small with a smoked fish appetizer platter (see photo below). This platter included three types of fish (swordfish, salmon, and snapper), plus a tuna pate, assorted pickled vegetables, toasted baguette rounds, and three dipping sauces. We had no trouble whatsoever polishing off the entire plate.





Unlike most modern steakhouses, soup, salad, and sides are NOT a la carte at Bern's, a greatly appreciated gesture that takes some of the sting out of a $50 beef slab. For soup, we both chose the house French onion soup au gratin, daintily served atop a doily with a buttercup yellow cap of lightly browned Gruyere (see photo below). I found this version of French onion to be among the best I'd ever encountered, thankfully not the typical salt bomb that bistro kitchens churn out worldwide.





The house salads were fresh, large, and also quite delicious (see photo below). I'm not sure how much of the ingredients on the plate were grown in the Bern's farm plot, but, regardless, I had successfully tricked my brain into thinking that we were at a health food establishment thus far.





That notion was immediately dispelled with the arrival of my 12 oz. Delmonico, cooked medium rare (1 and 1/8" thick according to the menu chart, although I had no ruler to verify - see photo below) and accompanied by a horseradish cream sauce. All of the included sides (loaded baked potato, fried onion strings, sweet shredded carrots, green beans, and tomatoes) were perfectly cooked.





Oddly, the worst part of the meal was actually my steak, which ended up being quite gristly, especially surprising given the amount of verbiage in the menu devoted to how carefully the kitchen trims the beef. I should have complained to our server (I'm sure he would have removed it from the bill). I didn't, and the only reason I can think to explain why I didn't is that I don't consider myself to be a steak aficionado, so clearly if the steak from a place serving them for over 60 years doesn't seem good, it must be me. Still, considering how outstanding the rest of the meal was, I have no problem giving Bern's a second chance on this.

When I mentioned to some longtime Tampatriots that we were going to dine at Bern's, they all told us that we had to do both the kitchen/wine cellar tour and visit the Harry Waugh Dessert Room before departing (more on that in a second). I asked our server before the meal started if he could make arrangements for us and he happily obliged. The kitchen was extremely large and bustling, but the staff only allowed us brief entry before escorting everyone into the wine cellar (not really a "tour", per se), which was actually quite eye-popping. Among other treasures, the house has an extensive collection of rare sherries and madeiras (some dating back to the 19th Century), plus aisle after aisle of wine racks like you see in the photo below.





After geeking out in the wine cellar, we headed upstairs to the Harry Waugh Dessert Room, which occupies the entire second floor of the restaurant. Bern Laxer was inspired to create a separate dessert facility after spending time at the French estate of his good friend, Harry Waugh, who was a wine connoisseur and one-time director of Chateau Latour in Bordeaux (Harry always brought guests into his drawing room for dessert and coffee following dinner). In order to give his apres-meal palace an American flair, Bern purchased 48 giant redwood wine holding tanks from wineries in California and had each of them reconstructed into a private booth, also adding individual controls for a sound system to play classical music, jazz, even live songs from a pianist playing in another part of the building (a phone headset is included for requests if you so desire).





You can see the old-school analog control panel in the photo above, along with my dessert selection, a chocolate-orange tart of sorts that was not quite as decadent as it looked (Mrs. Hackknife was much happier with her selection, a candied green apple dish). To wash down our sweets, we opted for a flight of 4 different Canadian ice wines from Inniskillin (not an easy decision, by the way - Bern's offerings of dessert wines is likely unparalleled and worth a visit alone). Conceptually, I love the separate dessert room (the only other place I can recall seeing one was at Bazaar in Los Angeles) and wish more fine dining establishments would try them. Next time, I vow to stick with the house classics (like the banana cream pie or macadamia nut ice cream) instead of venturing off into the nightly specials.

Now that we've been to Bern's, I can certainly understand why my fellow Floridians find it to be so popular. If you ever come down to visit and you're in the mood for a big steak and a tall glass of Port, we know where to go...

Sweet Peach Olive Oil Cake

As a newcomer to both the South and a tropical climate, I find myself now on the lookout for dessert recipes that are a bit lighter than the chocolate lava bombs and turtle cheesecakes that normally sustain us Midwesterners through the long winter. That's precisely why the most useful recipe to me in the June 2013 issue of Food and Wine Magazine (focused almost exclusively on grilling) had nothing to do with cooking meat over a fire. In a brief interview with the latest Top Chef winner Kristen Kish, she included three of her favorite dessert creations, one of which caught my eye: a sweet peach olive oil cake that seemed tailor-made for a Florida pool party. As it turns out, we just happened to have some friends coming over for a get-together that week, giving me an ideal opportunity to try it out.

Chef Kish made an upscale version of this recipe with fennel pollen instead of peaches as part of her winning menu on the Top Chef finale. For those of us unaccustomed to working with fennel pollen, the peaches make a fine substitute. Unfortunately, I wasn't aware that fresh peaches weren't in season yet, so I had to make do with the canned variety, guessing that a single can of peach halves in light syrup (I sliced the halves into thin pieces and discarded most of the liquid) would do the trick. The finished cake came out of the oven looking pretty good and tasting strongly of, well, olive oil, which one should expect I suppose since there was a cup and a half of it in the batter. Without any butter, this dessert definitely lacked the density that would normally weigh someone down on a hot day, although I would have liked it to have a more prominent peach flavor (next time maybe use 2 cans instead of one? Drive to Georgia if need be for fresh peaches?). Fortunately, our guests (even a few of the very young ones) didn't have any problem polishing off their slices - as a result, I have a new addition to my tropical dessert rolodex...