Keep calm and lobster on In Tampa, Frankie's offers enjoyable seafood in a distinctly New England setting.

By Jon Palmer Claridge

I n days gone by (when I lived up north), I regularly vacationed during the summer on Cape Cod. Relatives had a house near Hyannis, and some friends used to host lobster feasts, during which we could look across Waquoit Bay toward the lights of Martha's Vineyard. Lobsters are deeply embedded in the food culture of New England. Of course, that relationship inpires cards and comics that reflflect the somewhat dark reality that cooking a lobster means dispatching a live creature in a way that most modern chefs don't confront with other animals — you know, those that are neatly packaged in Styrofoam and shrink wrap. My favorites don't shy away from the dark humor of this reality. One depicts two lobster detectives, dressed in trench coats and fedoras with the caption, "I think we've got a serial killer on the loose." Perhaps the best one is looking up from a huge pot of boiling water toward a bugeyed lobster, seconds from meeting its fate, with the thought bubble repeating, "There's no place like home." Sadly, there are no ruby slippers, nor a rescue from this bad dream for our lobster friends. Luckily for us, Frankie's Lobstah Trap in Tampa is here to do the dirty work. Tucked between The Cheesecake Factory and The Capital Grille is International Plaza's Bay Street, an outdoor alleyway that winds between buildings. Duck down the street and soon you reach Frankie's. The fifirst things you see are fifive outdoor tables shaded by huge red-orange umbrellas, cleverly suspended on adjustable arms so that you may block direct rays of the sun. These are behind a low divider complete with criss-crossed nautical ropes; in fact, as you enter, the restaurant does a nice job evoking the architectural vocabulary of New England, complete with cedar shingles and weathered clapboards.

A notable three-foot seashell hugs the wall near a huge white mirror engulfed by a giant Day-Glo orange octopus, whose tentacles wrap the wall and ceiling. There's a big double-sided bar with industrial black pendant lights and bright orange stools with black cushions. Plus, the open kitchen is visible through a white open grid wall, which sports a wine crate, an urn and some globes made from oyster shells. Overall, from the high ceilings to the textured, herringbone-patterned wood flfloors, it's a comfortable welcoming space to dine. We dig in with a pan-seared crab cake starter that's packed with moist crab meat and well caramelized. The flflavors aren't assertive, but neither is the Cajun remoulade, so there's good balance. It's a nice way to begin, since my companions aren't big on raw clams, oysters or steamers, and peel-and-eat shrimp don't reveal many insights into the kitchen's prowess. Lobster mac and cheese is Frankie's secret RESTAURANT REVIEW Frankie's Lobstah Trap HHH recipe. Rest assured, it's very good indeed, because it has three things in abundance: chunks of lobster, plenty of creamy, cheesy sauce, and, most notably, an ample breadcrumb topping that adds delightful texture to every bite. The tubular pasta isn't too soft and each mouthful delivers. Lobster bisque available by the cup or the bowl. The small, sweet lobster chunk bring texture to the creamy bisque tinged with sherry. Like the mac, it's comfort food with a core highlighting all the goodness this crustacean has to offer. If I'm being really picky, I'd play with the balance of the cream and sherry in relation to the stock that forms the base. I want more flflavor from the lobster and less from the cream, which is more for texture and, in this case, shoulders too much of the burden. It's good, rather than great. The same is true of the entrees. Everything is pleasing, but nothing wows. I suppose that's

the sweet spot for a casual restaurant, but I'm always hoping for fifinesse. The shrimp scampi sautés jumbo Key West pinks (with their tails intact) in olive oil, garlic, a splash of white wine, lemon and butter, then tosses them with linguine so it's coated and glistening on the plate. While the shrimp are lovely, a tablemate wants more. At $18, however, the portion seems fair to me. Lemon- and fennel-marinated grilled salmon is tasty with fresh herbs, accompanied by steamed veggies with chunks of golden potato, bright green broccoli flflorets, yellow bell peppers and halved cherry tomatoes. Trufflfle fries are light on the trufflfle oil, yet perfectly crisp and delicious. They're served in a paper-lined cone of spiral stainless steel, which keep them warm and crunchy. The quintessential lobster roll features chunks of claw meat lightly tossed in lemon garlic aioli on a traditional toasted split-top brioche bun. Half a lemon wrapped in yellow cheesecloth is there for you to incorporate a seedless spritz to taste. Ranging from classic cocktails to local beer, the drink options are fifinely chosen. Wines by the glass offer lobster-friendly Chalk Hill Chardonnay from Sonoma, or the splurge offering of Veuve Clicquot Brut, just $18 — very fair for the good stuff from Reims. For dessert, we jump over the cannoli and cheesecake to land on a nicely tart key lime pie with a whipped cream piped edge, as well as a piece of moist rum bundt cake. The rum isn't overdone, but serves as an accent to the yellow cake with a dense crumb. All in all, a pleasant end to an enjoyable meal.

Be hoppy

Two Frogs Brewing Company starts pouring its own beer soon.

By Ainhoa Palacios

A Two Frogs Brewing Company starts pouring its own beer soon. By Ainhoa Palacios few months ago, the historic Greek community of Tarpon Springs gained a third craft brewery. Two Frogs Brewing Company, located at 151 E. Tarpon Ave., opened April 25 with other local beers on tap, but the newcomer expects to start pouring its own next month. Chad Croake and his father Michael are the minds behind Two Frogs (in case their last name

wasn't a dead giveaway). While the brewery isn't their fifirst foray into a family business, it is in line with their family history. "My great grandfather owned a brewery in pre-Prohibition times," Chad said. As Chad tells it, the brewery tried to maintain operations throughout the era with nonalcoholic beer, but eventually closed, which took the family biz into a different direction — until Chad, Two Frogs' head brewer, found his own love for brewing two years ago. He began, like many brewers who go pro do, with a homebrewing system, and later enrolled in the Brewing Arts Program offered at USF St. Petersburg. Through the program, he learned the history, science and business of brewing, all while creating the beer he's most proud of — Snowmass, a chocolate-coconut brown ale. Since Two Frogs' opening, Croake has been eagerly awaiting the arrival of his equipment to get down to brewing, serving up area-made pints from breweries like Barley Mow and Escape in the meantime. With a three-barrel system fifinally in the house, Croake says the nanobrewery should have its beers on draft by late August. The brewer, specializing in all-America vanilla beans, plus an imperial rye ale aged on white oak chips. He and Michael plan to dedicate eight of the brewery's 16 taps to their own recipes and continue to promote locals on the remaining eight. The Two Frogs building dates back to 1906. It's housed both a brothel and a drug store. At 1,500 square feet, the space comfortably fifits 48 beer enthusiasts while surrounding them in a saloon-like setting with bullhorns, cowboy boots and a friendly bartender. "In about a year, we will have a dog-friendly covered beer garden with plenty of fun activities," Chad said. A prime location in Tarpon Springs means patrons are able to order food from surrounding restaurants. Dining spots like BackDraughts will deliver pizza, and Currents has also agreed to bring its house burger right to the bar. Chad hopes their brewery becomes a place that brings the community closer over a glass of good beer. "I want to people to leave my bar as if they were guests in my home," he said. "Serving the best beer I can make, and creating the best atmosphere to enjoy it." Two Frogs — whose grand opening is scheduled for early September — operates 2 to 8 p.m. Wednesday and Thursday, 2 to 10 p.m. Friday and Saturday, and noon to 8 p.m. Sunday.

Beer me

The nectar of the gods isn't a crisp apple cider.

By Cathy Salustri

Anyone who knows me will tell you, straight up, I do not like craft beer. When The Amsterdam on Central Avenue in St. Pete was a place, one of the owners explained to me that I simply wasn't educated enough to appreciate it. Call me crazy, but I know what I like, and no amount of education is going to make me appreciate a sour, grapefruit basil-infused porter. When I drink beer, I'm simple. I like porters, stouts and a few maligned beers (Bud Light Lime, Dos Equis and Imperial). Although I like to drink local beers to help local businesses, I won't drink local beers I don't like. And here's the problem with gluten-free or gluten-removed beer: If celiac sufferers had known in the 1980s they had celiac, we'd have plenty of GF or GR Bud Light Limes in the world. But we didn't know we had it back then. Most celiacs believed they simply had food allergies or, more recently, IBS, so GF beer is a relatively new thing. As such, brewers tend to try and make it taste like the craft beer so many people buy, which means I don't like a good number of GR or GF brews, and it's a small playing fifield already. For someone whose favorite beer in the world was Holy City Brewing's Pluff Mud Porter, the preponderance of IPAs and fruity ales leaves me cold. My go-tos? Daura Damm, Omission Lager, Trader Joe's NGB and, sometimes, Omission Ultimate Light Golden Ale. As for picking up some GF or GR beer, 

 hands down, Shep's has the widest selection. (Bonus: The St. Pete store also sells singles.) I'm also a fan of a couple other places in Tampa Bay, but two spots in particular — one on either side of the bridge — are worth a stop. You can get Daura at the bar from Ybor City's New World Brewery, where the staff is amazing about my hummus with corn tortillas, please (I don't even have to tell them anymore). There's another GF beer on hand, but it's... well, it's not my style. While Mangia — a casual, celiac-friendly Gulfport restaurant — carries GF beer, like New World, the prices are designed for drinking in-house. A long list of ciders and meads is featured, too — far more than their GF/ GR beer menu, but that's for another column. At local breweries, I tend to go with local cider or wine, because none of them deals with GR or GF beer, which I get. There are production and cross-contamination issues. But what I wouldn't give for a gluten-free version of Cigar City Brewing's Puppy's Breath Porter. If there's a local brewery that needs a guinea pig to taste GF/GR beers, I'm your gal. Email CL A&E Editor Cathy Salustri at cathy.salustri@cltampa.com.