Just north of the Bay, as Tampa Road crosses the Lake Tarpon canal and curves due west past Lake St. George, there’s a small shopping plaza. When I first returned to Florida a few years ago, I was sent there to a foodie haven called Harr’s Surf and Turf. As its name indicates, it was a purveyor of the freshest fish and prime meat; plus wine, cheese and hard-to-find gourmet products. It’s now, sadly, closed. But I was always excited to shop there, and my pulse often quickened at the discovery of one culinary gem or other.
Perhaps that’s why I was blinded to the presence of Positano’s Ristorante Italiano just a few doors down. But my sister had a pleasant meal there and, more importantly, was rescued by the friendly Heimlich-trained staff when she got a bit over-enthusiastic with a bite of jumbo shrimp Sophia. So, with gratitude for a rescued sibling, a visit seemed worthwhile.
The food at Positano’s reflects what’s best about Italian cuisine; it’s simply prepared using the finest and freshest ingredients, with an emphasis on high-quality meats, fresh seafood and house-made pasta specialties.
The appetizers feature the usual traditional suspects: calamari, bruschetta, and caprese. But I’m a sucker for charcuterie, so we opt for the Chef’s antipasti selection. It includes a variety of rolled cured meats, cheeses and some tangy marinated vegetables. The mini bell peppers, in particular, provide a nice contrast to the fattiness of the meat. And unless you’re ravenous, it’s big enough for a table of 3-4 to share.
As is often true at mom-and-pop Italian restaurants, entrees include your choice of house salad, Caesar salad (+$2) or homemade soup of the day. The Caesar disappoints (it’s not worth the upcharge), but the house salad has cranberries, nuts and cheese with mixed baby greens in balanced balsamic vinaigrette that is pleasant indeed. And the small serving of soup in a square bowl is quite tasty; the big chunks of shredded chicken and vegetables are in a fragrant broth that wakes up your palate for the entrées to come.
All dishes are also served with a taste of angel hair pasta in fresh marinara or a julienned mix of al dente seasonal fresh vegetables of the day (+$2), in our case delightful squash and peppers. As with most traditional Italian restaurants, there is a multitude of choices; luckily, Positano’s menu is smart and appealing, limiting the selections to manageable choices.
Our entree selections begin with eggplant rollatini. Thin slices of tender eggplant are rolled cannoli-style, filled with seasoned ricotta and baked with tomato sauce and mozzarella. The eggplant is just right, not bitter, and holds together well. The tomato sauce is fresh with just the right acidity to complement the gooey melted cheese. This is why Italian food is among the most popular of cuisines; there’s a comfort factor to most of the dishes.
Pollo saltimbocca alla Romana sautés a scaloppini of moist chicken in a Marsala demi-glacé and layers it with fresh spinach and mozzarella. The entire dish is topped with enormous salty prosciutto crisps that seem to have a life of their own. I love prosciutto, but these are so large and so crisp that it’s hard to integrate them with the other tastes. I’d prefer a delicate garnish to meld with the other flavors. As it now appears, it’s a conundrum for the diner: how do I attack this in order to get to my food? Nonetheless, the flavors are appealing.
Seafood oreganato takes a light, white, basa filet, sautés it with garlic, lemon and white wine, then broils it with oregano-seasoned breadcrumbs. The result is distinctly herbal, but balanced with bright acidity from the wine, which remains very present in the sauce. It’s an assertive, but pleasant, match with the mild fish.
Positano’s serves an authentic Neapolitan-style pizza charred and chewy from an 800-degree wood-fired oven. It’s prepared in accordance with the standards of the Associazione Verace Pizza Napoletana, utilizing imported Caputo 00 flour, San Marzano tomatoes, sea salt and the finest imported olive oil. The Regina Margherita version features bits of cherry tomato with fresh basil and mozzarella. I’ve been sampling lots of pizza around the Bay in preparation for a special issue this fall, and unfortunately, despite their high standards, the center of the pie is soft due to an overabundance of sauce and cheese. This is an all-too-common occurrence and a reminder that in Neapolitan pizza, as in much art and architecture, less is more. Without crispness from edge to edge, pizza loses its most important textual element.
We skip the standard Italian dessert stalwarts — tiramisu, spumoni, tartuffo cake, creme brûlée and gelato — because the limoncello cheesecake sounds intriguing. Luckily, it’s terrific — appropriately dense and creamy with a wonderful lemon flavor and a surprising biscotti crust instead of the traditional graham cracker. As such, there are larger pieces in the crust and the texture is great. Plus it’s topped with candied lemon in limoncello syrup; it is yummy! And the perfect way to end a traditional Italian meal.