The River’s Edge, Gibsonton
You know those beautiful weekend days that you spend like free money? Those glorious sun-drenched hours that are exchanged for either binge-watching on the couch or knocking out your chore list around the house. And just when you stop to rest your weary bones or to shake the crumbs off your Snuggie (are those still a thing?) it’s supper time and another beautiful day off is nearly in the can. We had one of those days recently—maybe it was spent on the couch or maybe it wasn’t—and we decided to salvage the remaining time with dinner and a movie.
Our weekend falls on Wednesday-Thursday and it was on a sunny, breezy Wednesday evening that we decided to check out another local spot on the Alafia River. The River’s Edge, here we come. They’ve got a food, a deck, and a bar–the perfect ingredients to a lost day cure.
We drove a weathered road from Ethel Street to Ohio Avenue where we were met by a colorful mural of a bearded dude and a woman toolin’ on his cruiser out of the countryside and into a dockside scene of paradise, with two dolphins leaping into the sunset. “Welcome to…River’s Edge.” Magnificent.
We pulled into an angled slot and, while my wife used the moment to…do whatever it is that women do after the car is parked but that couldn’t be done on the way, I took a recon stroll around the lot. I had mistaken for the restaurant the block outbuilding that bore the biker mural. I looked for an entrance, but the door was padlocked and what I assumed was the deck was obscured by a stockade fence that ran from the building to the river bank. Maybe I had misread the website and Yelp. Was this a private club? Were they closed on Mondays?
Rivers Edge Bar and Grill
6226 Ohio Ave.
Gibsonton, Fl. 33534
Phone: (813) 671-9196
Hours:
Grill – Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Sunday 11:00 a.m. to 8:00 p.m.
Friday and Saturday 11:00 a.m. to 11:00 p.m.
Bar – Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Sunday 9:00 a.m. to 12:00 p.m.
(Note Sunday Alcohol CANNOT be served until 11:00 a.m.)
Friday and Saturday 9:00 a.m. to 2:00 a.m.
riversedgebarandgrill.com/
I walked back to see if Christa had finished cataloging her possessions and just behind where she was waiting, I saw the actual place. Talk about not seeing the forest for the trees: Several hulking live oaks spread their ancient, leafy limbs over a low shack with a steel roof that led the eyes to an outdoor seating area overlooking the Alafia River. It was the kind of place a hobbit would run if he rode a Wide Glide.
Some clacks told us that silhouettes were shooting pool behind the screened windows as we skirted the inside and walked to the back where several groups sat at some fresh picnic tables under green umbrellas. The wind was whipping, but not frigid. A bustling server welcomed us to sit anywhere, so we chose a nice spot in the far corner of the spruce, modern deck that projected over the lapping Alafia.
This place screamed laid back, and we already were. Our movie at nearby theater didn’t start for two hours and the atmosphere and view were a chloroformed rag short of forcing one to chill out. We saw the server was still busy with other diners so I helped myself to one of the laminated menus at the server station.
I passed a couple dudes that looked like the connoisseur type for bottled domestic beer and heaping plates of grub sitting over two bottles of domestic beer and a platter of raw oysters on a bed of rock salt. I asked about the oysters, and they nodded, saying they were great in the way one would respond if asked about their first rocket flight. And by rocket flight I mean orgasm. I made a mental note for the next time I get the craving. For oysters.
We looked at the menu: Fried apps, nachos, peel & eat shrimp and raw oysters at market price. Speaking of, the prices are outstanding. Not once did I think an item was pushing the envelope. The offerings, the prices, the atmosphere–it all melded nicely. Immediately, the grouper sandwich grabbed my attention. “Get me,” it winked. “You’ll love me forever.” ‘Nuff said.
As an appetizer I was on the verge of ordering the devil crab ($5 with fries, an additional one for $3–are you kidding me? Nice), but it would have to wait for next time–Wifey had her eyes on the nachos, and I didn’t have stomach space for both. She tacked on a BLT after we flipped the menu over to see the rest.
Their burger prices start at $7.50 ($.50 for cheese) which is reasonable these days. More sandwiches, seafood, and a salad round out the menu with some budget-friendly small bites in the bottom left corner—a hotdog and fries for five bucks, for instance, and the requisite fried pickles, fried okra, also eggrolls and an $8 cheese pizza (probably frozen, but there’s a time and a place for a cheap frozen pizza and I can totally see the River’s Edge as being the place at many a time).
The six at the table behind me got up to move under the roof, close to the building to escape the windy edge of the deck. Our server came over with two more menus and I explained that we helped ourselves to save her the trouble, but that we weren’t in a hurry.
She delivered our unsweetened iced teas and laughingly advised us to use the beverages to hold down the menus as the wind whipped up. Good idea. Having already settled on what to order, but not wanting to upset her system, I followed her advice while she left us to attend to another table. I was busy taking photos of the landscape when a gust lifted my menu and toppled my clear Solo cup full of iced tea. My fault. I moved to a dry bench on the other side of the table.
Our server returned in short order to take our food order and when we explained the spilled drink, she apologized profusely and vowed to replace it. We started with an order of nachos (hold the jalapenos). I had my choice of grilled, fried, or blackened for my Grouper sandwich; I chose fried. The BLT completed the order. In a blink, a new iced tea was placed before me.
Side note: I’ve been abstaining from the tasty beer with my food lately. It seems I’ve developed this syndrome where alcohol with food gives me these sharp, tingling pains in those spaces between your jaw and ears. It’s like needles going into my jaw and uncomfortable enough that unless I’m really jonesing for a brew, I skip it until after I eat. Bummer.
The day was waning and it was starting to get a bit chilly, but this was the first full day of Daylight savings time, so it was not intolerable as the sun still shined (thanks in part to a busybody who would rather force the entire industrialized world to change rather than simply adjust his own schedule to get more time on the links). I snapped more pictures and watched the gulls circle and a pelican glide low over the choppy river.
After a reasonable spell, our food arrived, nachos, and sandwiches all at once. I prefer getting my appetizer before my main, but everything came out so seemingly quickly and we were so hungry that I didn’t particularly mind this time. However, it was a trick to coordinate eating the messy nachos, the sandwich, and defend the lightweight baskets and wax paper from the swelling winds all at the same time. Hey, we chose to sit here.
On reflection and speculating how simple the nachos are to prepare, I do wish they had arrived much earlier than they did, or for the sandwiches to have been brought out at least five minutes after. We had to eat everything quickly and at the same time before it all got cold. Still, I’d rather get it all at once than not at all. I’ve learned to appreciate fast service when it exists.
The nachos starred round, yellow tortilla chips reminiscent of the convenience store and canned cheese sauce variety. And speaking of cheese sauce, these were swimming with the golden processed goodness, which I absolutely adore when satisfying the urge to punish my g.t. with 7-eleven at 2:00 a.m., but don’t particularly relish at restaurants.
On the rare occasions that we treat ourselves to nachos, we’re big fans of chips layered with shredded cheese, melted under a salamander and topped with fresh tomatoes, onions, and seasoned beef, with sour cream and salsa on the side. Christa was disappointed, but this was our fault. If we had inquired before ordering or looked closer at the picture on the menu, I could have been enjoying a deviled crab, instead.
So, I pretty much had the nachos all to myself. Understand, they were delicious providing you go for the goop of nacho cheese sauce. In addition to the healthy dose of it were nice portions of seasoned beef chili, diced onions, and tomatoes, with salsa and sour cream in portion cups on the side. I devoured half before turning to my sandwich with yellow fingertips.
The grouper sandwich: Displayed on the bottom half of an untoasted enriched white bun was a sculpted work of golden, crisp, hand-battered filet, fringed with the tatted lacework of fried batter. The top half of the bun capped a large sheet of iceberg, slices of tomato, rings of onion and three pickle chips. A portion cup held a tangy, lemony, almost surely homemade (I forgot to verify) tartar sauce, which I spread evenly over both halves of the bun.
I assembled the beast, brought it to eye level, then bit off the tail end of fish that projected outside the bun. It was succulent, firm, but flaky, and had a very delicate, slightly sweet, clean flavor. There wasn’t the hint of fishiness, nor the texture of a formerly frozen filet. This was, if I wasn’t mistaken, a very fresh piece of fish and it was delicious. The zingy tartar sauce complemented it perfectly with its hint of citrus, as did the pickle chips. I went in for more trying not to burn my tastebuds off in eagerness.
Christa’s BLT was the stuff that cured-meat dreams are made of. A sensual mound of seasoned, crispy, mahogany bacon, streaked with fat and speckled with grill char, lounged on a chaise of Texas-toast; the L and T in this savory threesome hid under the second slice of toast. Mayonnaise packets were provided and, once properly dressed, she bit into the whole libidinous affair. She claimed it was wonderful, but spoke no more on the matter. Her eyes betrayed her silent passion.
A fork full of my better half’s half of the cheesy, chili nachos was eased flat and whole into my mouth, between bites of grouper. A conflicting blend of flavors, to be sure, but my unsweetened tea did a great job of cleaning the palate in between. I guess it was a good thing that sweetener wasn’t brought to the table (a common experience here in Florida—If you don’t order the sweet-tea, you get exactly what you asked for: unsweetened tea with no packets of sweetener. I’ve taken to carrying packets of my own).
The french fries were the coated frozen variety; possibly Lamb Weston. I prefer fresh cut, especially with fried fish, but the coated frozen kind are a favored substitute. Damn–I forgot to ask if they have vinegar.
The River’s Edge has a sincere, universal appeal to it. Their website welcomes all by car, bike or boat (slips provide space for 12 boats; I might land my kayak on the bank sometime soon). On arrival, you might expect a stereotypical dingy biker dive; that ain’t’ this place. It’s laid back, but tidy and spacious. The outside is spacious, that is. I never looked inside.
Like many waterfront establishments, it has the garlands of white string-lights to set the evening mood for dining, drinking, and hanging out as the water laps at the shore, the seabirds call, and the boats motor by, their lights illuminating the rippling river.
It is easily a biker destination and I can see it with a lot full of scoots and a deck full of riders enjoying the scene and cold drinks. But I can also see it a casual after work spot as well as a family destination with kids tossing bits of french fry and corn dog to the gulls. I suspect that on most occasions, River’s Edge is a combination of all three and more and that it all harmonizes quite well.
Like the similar A.J’s on the River just a mile and a half up the river, The River’s Edge is a very convenient spot for dinner and a movie, with the Goodrich Riverview 14 GDX only a couple minutes up the road.
They regularly feature live entertainment on Fridays and Saturdays 8-12, Sundays from 2-6, karaoke on Thursday nights and Saturday afternoons.
Happy hour is $2.50 domestic beer and well drinks, Monday-Friday from 4-7pm. Food specials include $1.50 tacos and $4 Margaritas on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and, on Wednesdays, they offer $9 fish & chip baskets and $3 whiskey sours.
I foresee the two of us very soon sipping from salted rims as the sun slips below the pink, purple and orange horizon. A slurp of oyster, a crunch of taco, a fork full of deviled crab, and a local fogey crooning Brandy (You’re a Fine Girl) into a dented SM58. River’s Edge is easy riverfront restin’, relaxin’ and ruminatin’—the perfect rescue to an almost wasted day.
Thanks for reading!