It’s no surprise that St. Pete’s Beach Drive was voted “Best Restaurant Row” by readers in last week’s Best of the Bay 2014 issue. The thoroughfare, which stretches south from the Vinoy, is near the water, handsomely designed and always vibrating with activity. From a purely culinary perspective, however, I’ve found its restaurants to be inconsistent and, therefore, disappointing. So I enter Annata, a wine bar offshoot of the iconic Mazzaro’s Italian Market, with my expectations firmly in check.
Inside, however, is a sight that quickens my pulse: A huge prosciutto di Parma affixed to a slicer to shave off the thinnest amuse bouche. Your server offers these meaty tidbits of dry-cured pork heaven wrapped around breadsticks “planted” in a box of green sprouts reminiscent of the perfect lawn.
It’s a serendipitous way to begin as you peruse the 70 wine selections (33 by the glass). They run the gamut, and are presented by grape varietal in order of weight, with pithy descriptors to aid in selecting a stem (or two) to fit your every desire. There’s lovely Cakebread chardonnay, under-appreciated Halter Ranch rosé from Pasa Robles with the look and aroma of wild strawberries, and a special 40th Anniversary California cabernet bottling from the renowned Caymus Vineyards that’s worth the $18 a glass. I have a smashing, food-friendly Belle Glos single vineyard pinot noir from the Russian River Valley.
Since Mazzaro’s Kurt Cuccaro wisely plans to rotate the wines on a regular basis, I certainly hope Annata considers offering some wine flights so you can compare and contrast. I am happy to see somewhat affordable half-bottles of Piper-Heidsieck brut ($30), since real Champagne is always a good match for such an eclectic menu.
The top-of-the-line charcuterie and cheese is presented as a mix-and-match; pick three, five or seven from a rotating selection of six artisan cheeses and six gourmet meats. We settle on two cheeses: robiola due latte (a creamy Italian made from a sheep-cow milk duo) and the firmer moliterno al tartufo, because you can never have too many truffles.
We can’t pass up the spicy Spanish chorizo, and land on Italian rosemary ham and cured, smoked speck to complete our selections. When the platter arrives, the stunning garnishes are everything you could wish — green and ripe olives, small briny cornichon, fig jam, thin pointy quince paste triangles, vibrant dried apricots, Marcona almonds, whole grain mustard, honeycomb oozing sweetness and a sprinkling of microgreens. If you’re a charcuterie fan, as I am, my advice is to go and “pick seven.” This is gastronomic nirvana.
The wild mushroom flatbread with heirloom tomatoes arrives on an au courant slate plate, each of a quartet of slices topped with dollops of ricotta, a sunny-side-up quail egg and a judicious drizzle of truffle oil, which is in perfect balance lest it overwhelm the other ingredients. Unfortunately, the beautiful flatbread has lost its crispness. I’m not sure if it’s because we are so enamored of the charcuterie that we dawdle and miss the peak moment for consumption, or it arrives that way. In any case, it is delectable, but loses points for texture.
The trio of crostini features ultra-crisp slices piled high, two with a green-red tomato bruschetta, and then an olive tapenade and a roasted eggplant with pine nuts. After the mind-bending cheese-meat platter, these can’t keep pace.
The 15 small plate options vary from marrow to mussels. We opt for a chunk of local grouper wrapped with a thin slice of translucent zucchini in a bracing prosecco-citrus “buerre [sic] blanc.” If you’re going to use French to describe your butter sauce, at least get the spelling right. And while you’re at it, serve the delectable seafood risotto before it gets soft. It’s a shame to nail the flavors and then leave the rice on the heat till it gets mushy.
The same is true with the umami-filled lamb ragu with pappardelle. What’s the point of beautiful handmade pasta coated with magical tastes if you let it get past the al dente tipping point? I’m disappointed, because shredded lamb dotted with creamy chèvre and fresh mint leaves coulda been a contender if the pasta had been pulled sooner. It’s an easy fix, but one of extreme importance if these dishes are going to match the menu’s heady peaks.
There’s no dessert menu, but the offerings on my visit are both worth the calories: A light lemon ricotta cheesecake topped with soft, sweet marinated walnuts, and an orange torta, which is a big surprise. It’s essentially a fat, crisp tortilla, sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar and drizzled with a zig-zag of citrus sauce, then topped with a luscious scoop of salted caramel gelato. Unexpected and delicious.
What’s also lovely at Annata is that you can choose your vibe: the intense, high-energy 45-seat interior, or the considerably more subdued streetscape. Whatever your preference, the people-watching is almost the peer of the charcuterie.