Old Castle Restaurant, Sun City Center
Did you know the Tampa area hosts fifteen German eateries? I’ve gone on rants before about experiencing a dearth of German restaurants, but now I must cope with an abundance. (Damn you universe for not giving me exactly what I want.) Some of the places get good reviews, others…not so much. Of course, some ignorance may taint those opinions. Many people just don’t understand the cuisine.
Advertising “Exceptional German cuisine from a family owned restaurant,” is an excellent way to grab my attention. Delivering the promised goods is a great way to keep my attention. The Old Castle Restaurant had accomplished the first. During our visit in search of delicious German comfort food, would it succeed at the second?
We had recently tried The German Restaurant in Holiday, FL, and while we fell in love with it’s authentic and flavorful dishes, we lament it’s distance from our home. While planning (lol) a last-minute hiking trip to Little Manatee State Park, I was thrilled to spot Old Castle German Restaurant nearby on the map.
I couldn’t wait to spring my newfound surprise on Christa. However, I like to provide options, so when we finished our exertive hike around the Little Manatee North Trail, I offered two: We could drive toward home and stop at The Sunflower Cafe for sushi and ramen, or we could try a place I had just discovered that claims authentic German food. She proclaimed, “German food, without a doubt.”
She had chosen…wisely.
So, grinning ear to ear I pulled the door shut on the sporty little runabout and we drove back to US 301 to find the Old Castle Restaurant. We will visit the Sunflower Cafe another day.
Old Castle Restaurant
3830 Sun City Center Blvd
Suite 107 Ruskin, FL 33573
Phone: (813) 633-3331
Hours:
Sunday to Saturday – 11:00 a.m. – 9:00 p.m.
http://oldcastlerestaurant.com/
Old Castle Restaurant is hidden from the highway nestled just to the left of a Beall’s Outlet in the Cypress Village shopping center. It’s lackluster facade set us up for a nifty surprise when we entered. Some clever use of acoustic ceiling tiles, flags, silk flowers, and a suit of armor set the stage as a German castle without going over the drawbridge. I think it was tastefully done and with some restraint. I’ve seen Italian restaurants go for the Venetian motif and really overdo it to the effect of a school play.
We were asked to pick our seat, so we chose one to the rear beside the quaint and dark wood bar. The row of four or five stools stood empty. There has got to be some moping husbands trailing their wives through Bealls; why aren’t they here sipping a bock?
If I lived within walking distance, I could see myself perched there on a bar stool regularly. “Bitte ein Bit.”
I needed little time with the menu—my decision to pass on the jagerschnitzel at the last German restaurant left me longing for the rich mushroom sauce and pan-fried pork cutlet, so I was fairly certain I would get that. The menu has many options to get some Teutonic yum in your tumultuous tum, and I had prepared myself by looking it over at home.
I suggested we might try the Schnitzel Pan for Two or the Smorgasbord for Two as a way to sample the most offerings and get a real feel for what Old Castel does. But, the Schnitzel Pan didn’t come with the jager sauce (to be fair, we never asked) or spaetzle, and the Smorgasbord featured schnitzel strips, which we feared might not as good as a whole schnitzel, but in retrospect, probably would have been okay. Next time.
Still, that Smorgasbord for Two looked intense:
- 2 slices of Sauerbraten
- 2 slices of Pork roastSchnitzel strips
- 1 Bratwurst
- 1 Bauern Sausage
- Pan fried potatoes, spaetzle, bread dumplings, sauerkraut and red cabbage
- 1 Apple Strudel
Heiliger Strohsack. That’s a lot of samples to try, and I want to return and give it a go. In fact, I was overwhelmed by the menu and wanted to try everything, it all looked so good. And I was famished. They say never go shopping hungry—I say, never go dining hungry. Definitely settle your brain with a pre-meal snack after a three-mile hike. Perhaps a banana.
With the lunch menu in effect, we had some appealing options for under $10, though my stomach was eying the dinner options, which it found to be a bit more interesting. I was torn between the Jagerschnitzel and the Pancake “Nurnberg” (4 potato pancakes served with Sauerkraut, 2 Nurnberger sausages, and a delicious dark beer sauce.) Did I say I needed little time?
Because it had been on my mind the longest and because it’s Christa’s favorite, we each decided on Jagerschnitzel for $9. Our stomachs later thanked us for not stuffing them, but I do wish I had gotten a taste of those potato pancakes and sausage. Next next time.
As an appetizer, Christa ordered the Sauerkraut Balls (4 Sauerkraut balls combined with ham and onion, breaded and fried to a golden brown deliciousness) and I ordered a side of Apfelrotkohl (red cabbage braised with apples and spices.)
A basket of warm bread and some soft butter were placed before us and I buttered a slice and chowed down. It was crusty, chewy, and had a nice resistance to the bite. A quality baguette. I really appreciated the soft butter. There’s little worse than when a restaurant serves to customers ice cold butter with bread. Stop doing that scheiße. Old Castle was on point, here.
I
was so looking forward to the schnitzel that I forgot I had also ordered the Sausage and Potato Chowder. It arrived and I was pleasantly surprised as a result of my poor memory. The steaming bowl of creamy broth was chock full of potatoes and sliced sausage.
My first spoonful of chowder confirmed a lingering suspicion—the soup needed some salt. Our experiences taught us that establishments frequented by older folks tend to have bland food. On our drive through Sun City Center, we observed this area to be heavily populated by the gray-haired golf cart type. I had worried that this might affect the seasoning of the food at Old Castle Restaurant. Some of the food did seem to be underseasoned, but it was not uncorrectable. A salt shaker was handy and a few tips did the trick. Every savory bite of that sausage and potato chowder made me smile.
The sauerkraut balls arrived not long after my soup bowl was licked clean. Four golden brown spheres crusted in fried breadcrumbs sat in a cast iron skillet around a ramekin of sauce. We moved one each to our side plates and I cut in with my fork. Steam issued forth carrying the aroma of kraut to my nose with a hint of caraway. I speared a portion and popped it in my mouth. Hot. HOT. I sucked in some air to help it cool before searing my taste buds and then chewed, working out the complex flavors. It was savory and sweet, crunchy and soft–it was delicious.
I couldn’t believe how so much flavor was packed in so little a package. I said as much and Christa reminded me that I still hadn’t tried the dipping sauce. I dipped the next portion into the ramekin and then into my mouth. Mind blown. What a combination—I’m really glad she chose the Sour Cream Herb dip over the other options. I probably would have picked the Honey Mustard, and it would have been a mistake. These two were made for each other. We were working on the remainder as I hummed in contentment when the schnitzels arrived.
The mushroom cream sauced schnitzel smelled and looked wonderful. The spaetzle was my favorite style–rubbed through a sieve, not extruded noodles. and sauteed in butter. My pork and her chicken were pounded thin and wore a deep brown breading. The sauce looked a bit thin and slightly broken.
The royal dish of apfelrotkohl was placed between us. Oh, man, was that smell alluring–the spiced aroma of clove and cinnamon with vinegar. I dipped my spoon and gave it a taste. Man, oh man, that was the best rotkohl I’d ever had. I make it, I’ve had it at many German restaurants—this was the best. It was almost dessert-like. Sweet, sour, and spicy. They did not hold back on the vinegar; we were in love—with cabbage.
Next, I sliced through the crisp-fried crust of the schnitzel through the thin pork cutlet. I dragged the piece through the mushroom sauce and gave it a taste. The sauce was okay—a little underseasoned, a little under thickened, and shallow in flavor. The pork was adequately seasoned, though a bit tougher than I’d prefer—perhaps it was not pounded thin, but sliced thin, with intact connective tissues. The pan-fried breading was crisp with a toasted nutty flavor.
Come to think of it, I did not hear pounding from the kitchen—a sound I adore at schnitzel houses. There’s just something pleasing about hearing your meat being struck to a thin sheet while you wait. Of course, the beatings could have occurred earlier in the day, they didn’t have to be done to order.
The only disappointment was the jager sauce—on the flavor scale of 0-10 (0 being vault air; 10 being a religious experience) it was wandering around 5. Lucky for us, there was plenty of butter brought to the table with the bread. I opened a tub, scooped out a half teaspoon with my knife and mixed it into the warm sauce with a few dashes of salt. This moved the mushroom sauce two notches up the scale. Still, a finish with some brandy or Riesling would be a relished improvement.
Christa was also disappointed, but not tragically so. Taken as a whole, it is a good dish, but the weak sauce and chewy cutlet kept it from being exceptional. Perhaps it was a one-time mistake. No kitchen that turns out a flavor bomb like those sauerkraut balls could intentionally make hunter sauce so bland.
Sauce intricacies aside, the entire entree was delicious and I moved from crispy fried pork to buttery spaetzle, to apple cabbage, with dredges through the mushroom sauce in every combination possible. In the end, I tipped the cabbage dish into my mouth to get the last drop of vinegary sweet juice and wiped my plate clean with a last bit of bread. Yum. Christa took her remaining half home for my midnight snack.
With the bread, soup, sauerkraut balls and hearty portions of the lunch entree, we were too full to order dessert, which is a pity because I really wanted to try the strudel and see if it was authentic–light crispy layers of whisper-thin dough wrapped around a spiced mixture of apples, sugar, and raisins, baked to a golden crispy brown and topped with a dollop of rich cream. There will be a next time.
I’ve learned that the chef-owner hails from Berlin and thus comes at the product with authenticity. She has lived the cuisine and it is an expression of her heritage. To make it a family commitment and succeed is a testament to the strength and resilience of a group of relations. It warms my heart to see such places thrive and put out great product and service. It’s my experience that Old Castle does this well.
On our way out I poked my head through a door by the bar and discovered a whole additional dining room with a tall 8-top table and an extension of the bar with more taps and maybe a dozen more seats. The Old Castle has surprises. We must return to discover more and perhaps take advantage of that 3:00 to 6:00 happy hour.
To proclaim one’s cooking to be “The best German food on this side of the Atlantic” is a bold boast impossible to prove but inviting of critique. I’ve had better, but a restaurant can be great without being the best. Yes, we were slightly disappointed by the jager sauce, but our taste is subjective. The other items were delicious and certainly enough to bring us back for more. Though our local options for German food are plentiful and we’ve yet to try them all, the others would have to be pretty exceptional to be set notably above The Old Castle.
There’s a bit of the old country in The Old Castle and, despite the Burg motifs, the dishes are inspiring of country cottages inns or grandmother’s house. I find comfort in knowing The Old Castle is a mere thirty minutes down the highway, tucked behind the concrete and glass ramparts of a shopping center, like Grandma in her new condominium who rewards our occasional visits with lovingly prepared morsels in the family tradition.
Thanks for reading!