Poetry on a plate

The Restorative serves imaginative ingredients in harmony to make you weak in the knees.

By Jon Palmer Claridge

Y ou know the illusory, romanticized fantasy of wandering into a small village and fifinding a tiny mom-and-pop restaurant that takes your breath away? It's usually somewhere in the south of France, or perhaps a playground for the rich and famous like Martha's Vineyard.

The food is, in a word, poetic. For great poetry is selective, fifinding just the right mix of words to induce a sigh. In our fantasy, every plate begins with seduction. The carefully composed dishes look too good to eat — wondrous kaleidoscopes of color and texture. Their flflavors explode in combinations that surprise or amaze.

But, like the search for the Holy Grail or waiting for Godot, it's almost always a pipe dream of self-delusion. Thus, I'm overjoyed to report that I've found this mythical gastronomic unicorn, not in some far off Shangri-La, but across the street from Dunedin Lanes.

In a spare but welcoming 18-seat space, The Restorative chef-partners Erin "Cricket" Plunkett and Jason Borajkiewicz, who've worked together in kitchens since 2010 and started dating fifive years ago, create magic with an 11-plate menu that's constantly morphing, changing two times a week on average.

The model so far is fifive smaller plates, three larger and three sweeter. The best strategy for your meal is to share, tapas style. You owe it to yourself to experience as many flflavor combinations as possible. Two couples can easily (and happily) eat the entire lineup. While the food is sophisticated and the service spot-on, the vibe is totally casual.

Smaller plates, in particular, are ripe for sharing. It's a dizzying array of textures and flavors — eliciting sighs, gasps and tears of joy. They are wonders to behold, and the tastes are unexpected.

Large, beautiful cubes of barely seared sushigrade tuna sit on squiggles of fennel purée that coat small potato squares alternating with ripe olive halves. Four toast fifingers are spread with foie gras-enriched hummus, topped with crispy chickpeas and bits of watercress.

The restaurant's refreshing take on escargot eschews garlic and instead delicately pairs each with a crunchy, craggy, indescribably delicious brown-butter crouton on a circle of goat cheese mousse tinged with lemon. It's as though they are racing around the plate.

A bowl of farm-fresh creamed corn, tossed RESTAURANT REVIEW The Restorative HHHH½ with crumbled cotija cheese, partners to great effect with thin slices of dry-cured Spanish serrano ham with seductive edges of luscious fat. Or how about carpaccio-thin slices of small heirloom tomatoes topped with a dollop of soft, fresh and spreadable housemade mozzarella and pieces of torn garden mint?

The Restorative's onion soup upends expectations — forget robust beef stock and strings of melted cheese. A bowl of garnishes arrives: Dark, sweet onion jam, small pickled pearl onions, tiny red onion slices, charred onion rounds and crisp mini crouton cubes. Then, the chef appears, pitcher in hand, to gently pour caramelized stock into the bowl, tableside. It's the essence of onion, and a revelation.

Another startling dish is potato agnolotti, one of the endless pasta variations. Superstar chef Thomas Keller has a multi-page reverie on these inch-long stuffed pillows in his classic French Laundry Cookbook, so I'm surprised when what arrives looks like logs in a light sour cream sauce with smoked Cheddar. Hmmm. I take a bite. Pasta stuffed with creamy mashed potatoes? What kind of crazy person would do that? My table is overwhelmed. Why is this the fifirst time we've tasted this heavenly combo?

Eggplant pansotti is a thin, triangular stuffed pasta from the Italian Riviera. These tender bundles are on a swirl of thin, pure sauce that's the absolute essence of tomato. The tastes are simple, clean and transporting.

Fork-tender squares of pork cheek bathed in a concentrated, silky glaze mingle with pickled plums, which brilliantly deliver sweetness and acidity to contrast the richness of the meat. Long wilted greens drape with Dali-esque grace, adding the perfect light bitter accent. I'm in heaven.

The drinks list is small, affordable and wellcurated to take you through the evening. There are bubbles, sake, wine, beer and amazing house soda. The chefs create syrups with imaginative flflavor combos for the sodas, or mimosas at brunch. Perhaps blackberry and lavender, watermelonlime, or pineapple with tiny red dots of Espelette pepper that ride the bubbles to the top of a mimosa to nip at your tongue. French-press coffee during brunch is also superb.

Sweet plates shine brightly, too. One night it's a molded blue cheese semifreddo pop that embraces a line of dots piped from thick red wine sauce. Chunks of sweet, glistening honeycomb balance perfect walnuts. And on another, it's a turmeric semifreddo pop (subtle and creamy) with plump blackberries, Marcona almonds and a streak of sweet dulce de leche. Divine.

All sprinkled with coconut, a bowl with a small round tres leches cake sits on a bed of blueberry compote and sweet corn pudding. Chef Cricket pops over to the table and pours a warm "très leche" sauce over it all. C'est magnififique.

The left third of a bowl of rich butterscotch panna cotta is carefully piped with stars of tangy raspberry buttercream mingling with chocolateraspberry cremeux, as well as sprinkled with coarsely chopped almonds. Plain yummy.

One gorgeous dessert plate features an offcenter cylinder of feta cheesecake with distinct salt notes to enhance small cubes of compressed watermelon. Van Gogh-like swirls of thick basil syrup snake around the plate, which is dotted with textured pebbles of white balsamic gelee. The flflavors meld seamlessly for a mouthful of joy.

Then, there's the Sunday brunch, a menu without usual suspects. Instead, we're treated to unicorn concoctions springing from the chefs' fertile imaginations.

Like dinner, brunch is divided into sweeter, smaller and larger plates. We choose a quintet of warm, tender mini muffifins bursting with blueberries accompanied by a schmear of soft chocolate butter sprinkled with sea salt. One small plate is medallions of blazing orange salmon tartare with a dill cream sauce and a garnish of ultrathin everything bagel crisps. A bowl of skin-on diced potatoes is elevated to greatness with small cloves of soft, golden-brown roasted garlic tossed with (uncredited) meltingly soft buttered leeks, topped with fifinely grated smoked Cheddar.

A beautiful indigo-glazed ceramic plate holds huge mounds of scrambled egg whites, which become the blank canvas for a study in green vegetables. Layers of crisp snap peas, tender asparagus tips, baby spinach and a sprinkling of fresh herbs top the eggs; a wall of lush, thinly sliced avocado hugs the side of the plate.

One brunch dish, pan-seared sea scallops, seems snatched from the dinner menu. They're huge, tender and surrounded by forest mushrooms, including baby morels, and the aforementioned green veggies.

Equally scrumptious is a bowl of soft, creamy polenta engulfifing a perfect poached egg flflecked with herbs and oozing yolk. To the left are fifive thin rectangles of pork loin — pink-tinged, juicy, and dusted with freshly ground pepper and flflakes of coarse salt. It's all surrounded by kick-ass serrano ham gravy dotted with diced onions and celery.

And the sloppy Joe? It's a large piece of Texas toast topped with chunky beef in gravy (that bears no resemblance to the canned stuff whose name it shares). The garnish is a fried egg sprinkled with herbs. On the side, a perfect pair of bread-and-butter pickles provides a sweet-tart accent. My table is very happy.

There are no foams and few modernist tricks — just imaginative ingredients in perfect harmony to make you weak in the knees. It's not about quantity, but rather freshness, balance and fifinesse. As I reflflect on my visits to The Restorative, I can't help but salivate. Who knows what creations might be on the menu the night of your visit? The restaurant does post teasers on its Facebook page. However, rest assured whatever is offered, you're in good hands. Unicorns are real. They are. I've found one, four minutes from the heart of delightful Dunedin. Editor's note: Additional reporting for this story was done by Nicole Abbett.

Spice of life

Byblos Café broadens its Mediterranean appeal with more variety.

By Meaghan Habuda

P Chef David Puatu, an Art Institute of Byblos Café broadens its Mediterranean appeal with more variety. By Meaghan Habuda assed by Byblos Café lately? You might've noticed some work being done on the longtime South Tampa restaurant. Some pretty neat work, actually.

Opened in 2001 by owners Roger and Ziad Estephan, Byblos has started what general manager Manny Quinones calls Phase 1 of a threepart expansion, which includes an updated look, reworked menu and new additions: a high-energy bar with a cocktail lounge and a sophisticated outdoor lounge to complement it all. The remodel will allow the restaurant, known for its Lebanese cuisine, to broaden its Mediterranean appeal.

"We wanna hit more of every kind of demographic, so we're gonna do more tapas style, meze style, with an upscale flflair to it," Quinones told CL. Luckily, fans of Byblos can look forward to more variety, not a different name or culture. In the back, the restaurant plans to phase out its inhouse marketplace, making room for a walkway that leads to the state-of-the-art bar (hang a left) and dining room (go right). Mahogany tables, white leather banquettes and flfloor-to-ceiling windows will contribute to the upscale restaurant's bright, sleek dining area, while the open-air patio along South MacDill Avenue has new flflooring and furniture (white leather to match the interior), TVs and a semi-closed canopy, giving Byblos the ability to cool things down or heat 'em up, in store.

Customers who head for the bar — which, like FOOD NEWS the dining room, is accessible from the restaurant's second entrance out front — notice a different vibe altogether. Cabinets full of dark spirits such as bourbon and Scotch. A chef's table. High-tops.

More banquettes. A wine cellar with high-end wines and liquor on display. Look up from the white quartz bar and you'll see 22-foothigh ceilings with mahogany-stained open trusses, too. The idea here is a lively, fast-paced environment that spills out to the canopy-covered lounge, where a waterfall, built-in fifireplace, additional seating and, likely, a little nightlife are planned.

Representing the Mediterranean as well as refreshing drinks meant for sipping outdoors, the cocktail menu, developed by Quinones, spotlights about 10 to 11 signatures. There's an Old Fashioned, which mixes rum and rye whiskey, smoked tableside, along with a Tito's vodka cocktail that incorporates strawberry-basil-infused lemonade made in-house.

The wine selection also has something for everyone. In addition to eight draft beers, Byblos is set to serve sangria with an array of garnishes (think fresh pomegranate seeds and dragonfruit) and crowd-pleasing wines by the glass, alongside Mediterranean offerings from Greece, France and Italy, to name a few.

Chef David Puatu, an Art Institute of Philadelphia graduate who previously served as chef de cuisine for Seminole Hard Rock Hotel & Casino's Council Oak Steaks & Seafood, is behind the revamped bill of fare. But don't worry — the original lineup's core items, like kibbe and baba ganoush, remain. They're just presented in a modern way. Kofta, for instance, lives on as sliders with ground Wagyu beef.

"We're hitting France, we're hitting Spain, we're hitting Lebanon, we're hitting Africa. A little bit of American in there, just so it's more comfortable to look at the menu and try everything. A lot of fresh pastas," Puatu said. "We're trying to hit 12-minute times, and it'll be fast and fun."

The menu is fifit for patrons looking to splurge on high-priced items, but also those who want to enjoy a meal that won't break the bank.

Byblos is shooting to complete its expansion, which will provide the restaurant with anywhere from 160 to 170 seats, by the fifirst or second week of October, give or take. While the remodel hasn't halted operations Monday through Sunday, Byblos does plan to close for a short time in the coming months to redo its dining room.

Over the next couple of weeks, customers can stop in for a taste of what's to come. Byblos has started doing a $35 three-course menu that showcases two of its new dishes, plus a glass of wine. "I just want people to know that we're not taking away from Byblos. We're just adding to it," Quinones said.

Puatu added: "There's no reason for Tampa to not be one of the best cities to go to for food. You've got good restaurants around here already. It's really exciting. We just want to be part of it."

Don't be afraid of riesling

This great grape is made for food.

By Jon Palmer Claridge

You might as well admit it. You're scared of riesling. The labels are weird. There are way too many variations. And who wants to drink sweet wine, anyway? But you're really missing out if you don't try riesling with a meal. It's one of the great food wines - simply because of the acidity. The wines are generally light and lower in alcohol, too, so you can safely drink more.

Understand that I've condensed a complicated subject into a quick overview, but this is what you need to begin what I hope will be a love affair with the great grape. First of all, let me recommend Chateau Ste. Michelle from Washington State. It's a great house wine for under $10. But let's turn to Germany to move beyond the basics. Look for wines from either Mosel (green bottle) or the Rhein (brown bottle), which we know as Rhine in English. The info on the wine label is similar to what I covered last month.

As an example, I'll use my favorite, Dr. Loosen. The largest print on the label is the producer. If you next see a name with an "er" suffifix, that's the town — Erden becomes Erdener, Wehlen becomes Wehlener. Next is the vineyard of the grape's origin, like Treppchen or Sonnenuhr. There's also a year that indicates the vintage of the grapes, which is particularly important in Germany.

Now it gets interesting. There are two designations of quality wine: 1) Qualitätswein, often seen as QbA, or the higher designation, 2) Prädikatswein. These are usually in small type. What's more important is another descriptor, representing six classes of ascending ripeness of the grapes at harvest: kabinett, spätlese, auslese, beerenauslese, eiswein and trockenbeerenauslese. They're in prominent type on the label. These generally also correspond to price and quality. Kabinett: The driest. A light wine that's a good match with Asian food, seafood and shellfifish, unless there's a butter sauce. Butter almost always asks for chardonnay.

Spätlese (late harvest): Medium body and usually off-dry. Try it with pork or scallops, plus spicy foods like Thai, Mexican, gumbo or curry.

Auslese (out picked): Moves onto the edge of dessert wine territory. Harvesting is limited to particularly ripe clusters. As such, it's great with desserts, particularly those with apples or peaches. 

Beerenauslese, or BA (berries out picked): Rare wine made from grapes picked individually. Made only in the best years. Great with foie gras or salty blue cheese.

Eiswein: Another rare, concentrated sweet wine created when BA grapes are left to freeze on the vine.

Trockenbeerenauslese, or TBA (dry berry selection): This very expensive, elite wine made from individually selected, shriveled raisin-like grapes has the highest sugar levels — with flflavors further concentrated by Botrytis fungus, called noble rot. It's truly the nectar of the gods. Savor each sip on its own.

That's all you need to know. Don't be afraid. Go to the wine store prepared, grab a bottle and try it with your favorite spicy dish. You'll be amazed and wonder where riesling's been all your life. It's a wine made for food.