Brocato’s Sandwich Shop | Tampa
Did we find the best Cuban sandwich in Tampa? Our trip to Busch Gardens had us passing the legendary Brocato’s Sandwich Shop. We’d be foolish not to stop. By the time we finished, the north Tampa deli had changed my mind about the Floridian delicacies.
And this might be the dumbest thing I’ve ever planned before a roller coaster adventure.
Our spooky plans required a spot for dinner
Christa carved Busch Gardens’ Howl-O-Scream event into our calendar.
The all-night event featured haunted houses, costumed fiends, and a selection of their most popular thrill rides. And also bumper cars.
She was hitting me with the details when an unknown force suddenly turned my brain toward Cuban sandwiches.
Some would later say the idea was fueled by the subconscious knowledge that we’d be zooming past Brocato’s Sandwich Shop on our journey into eerie fun. Still, others suspect something far more sinister.
Under the spell, I suggested that we leave early for a supper of Cuban sandwiches and devil crabs before the amusement park. Christa cautiously agreed.
When the day arrived we set off for the famed Brocato’s deli followed by death-defying roller coasters.
Of course, nothing bad could come of that combination.
We set a course for food and fun
The glowing iPhone guided us up the Tamiami trail then along E Columbus Drive to Brocato’s doorstep.
And oh what a doorstep it was. A magician skilled in roadside attractions had worked magic on their facade.
Full parking slots out front forced us to find an empty gravel lot beyond the building. We pulled around and found a shady spot under a twisted oak.
The expansive lot left me wondering just how much business they do at peak hours and for that matter, how would that tiny shop manage such a surge?
Everybody claims to be the best
Who has the best Cuban sandwich? Hordes of shops claim the title via newspaper polls and travel app rankings. I’ve tried a few. This day, however, represents my first test of a major contender.
I needed to find a killer Cuban sandwich or else I may have to give up the hunt. By and large, my prior experiences show it a mediocre hot ham and cheese unworthy to hold rank with the Philly cheesesteak, the Chi-town roast beef, or the New Orleans muffuletta.
I know—those are harsh words. But towns don’t win points by claiming the BLT. A sandwich with just pork, ham, cheese, mustard, and pickles might be different, but different doesn’t equal astounding.
Past searches led me to local spots and I’ve stopped at several others while traveling. I’ve tried gas stations, delicatessens, and restaurants, too. I chewed over many a pressed sandwich and they all fall flat. Cheap ham, rubbery Swiss, bland pork. Unbelievably, some actually skimped on the pickles.
My sandwich search stalled
Thus my hopes had faded. The original Cuban was just a simple sandwich whose purveyors either lack inspiration or are too devoted to tradition to jazz it up. I may as well be searching for a mind-blowing egg salad on whole wheat.
So I put a pin in the hunt, my fruitless search having diluted my passion. But one place remained in my thoughts.
Brocato’s was pulling me back in.
Brocato’s Sandwich Shop
5021 East Columbus Dr
Tampa, Fl 33619
Phone: (813) 248-9977
Hours:
Monday to Friday – 7:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m.
Saturday – 7:30a.m. to 4:00 p.m.
Sunday – Closed
https://brocatossandwich.com/
Brocato’s Sandwich Shop
Visions swarmed my head of crunchy bread filled with savory meats and cheese as well as spicy deep fried crab croquettes. We’d soon be enjoying it all and whatever other delights tantalized our eyes.
Yes, seconds ago I was jaded, but a guy can dream, can’t he? Besides, the dispassion had been displaced by my reinvigorated imagination. An inferno was sparked.
The menu blew my brain
We rounded the building to find a couple outdoor menu boards. But too many options led to a mountain of madness.
To begin with, I came for two things: Definitely a Cuban sandwich and to try Brocato’s legendary devil crabs. Just as with the sandwich, up to that moment the few devil crabs I’ve tried left me at a loss for this other Tampa tradition.
Like crab cakes in the mid-Atlantic, you just can’t go cheap when making a good devil crab. But plenty of spots do go cheap with low-grade crab, fillers, and no flavor.
Christa quizzed me on the stuffed potatoes which I described as mashed potatoes filled with seasoned beef then deep-fried. Stuffed potatoes made the list.
Everything was there in bold primary colors on the menu. Nevertheless, I couldn’t match a combo to my needs. The 4” with a mini devil crab and mini potato seemed right, but why minis?
And why were regular sizes so expensive? (Boy, was I in for a surprise.)
Christa told me to take a breath and actually enter the shop before having a conniption.
Customer service soothes the savage mind
I crossed my fingers and we made for the front door.
The place was almost full at half past three in the afternoon, which is saying something for their popularity. So, orders were being taken at the register, at a window into the kitchen, and by a guy moving through the queue with a pad and pen.
We attached ourselves to the tail of the line. In a short time, the poor man got to us as soon as my brain shut down. There were just too many options and price schemes.
In light of my short circuit, Christa took over. We each wanted a six inch Cuban. I wanted a devil crab, she wanted a potato ball. But there wasn’t a basket combo to match that and ordering it all separate was no insignificant difference in price.
He quickly offered that there was a special today for a foot long Cuban for ten bucks.
That’s a heck of a deal.
Also, all sandwiches come with a drink and chips automatically worked into the price. Always.
That’s a heck of a practice and ought to be copied by all delis.
Finally, we settled on the foot long, a side of two mini devil crabs and a side of two mini potato balls. So that we could each have our own. After all, they were minis.
Christa paid while I went to claim a table.
We waited for a spell
While we waited, I snapped pics of the interior that looked about like you’d expect a local legendary sandwich shop to look. You’ve been there, every big town has them.
Slogans, sports memorabilia, news clippings, family photos, autographed pics photos of famous patrons, and general kitsch hid the walls. It’s important to realize they’ve been here for seventy years. Tampa itself was only 100 years old when Brocato’s first opened doors.
I drew a colorful foam cup that instantly whooshed me back to the eighties and filled our drink. Sipping, I steadied my excitement so as to not set myself up for disappointment.
Dinner is prepared
In ten minutes my name was mangled and I went to get our order.
My hands were shaking as I returned to the table and set the giant bag before my waiting wife. Neither of us expected our dinner to displace so much space and time. Twenty-five dollars never felt so heavy.
I unpacked without delay two six-inch slabs of white deli paper, a brown bag that weighed a few pounds and was starting to turn translucent, and lastly a slightly lighter bag holding the devil crabs.
I foolishly disregarded the weighty warning sign and opened the prizes.
Each item wowed the eyes. I cracked a potato ball and devil crab to release a further wow for the nose.
But I unwrapped my sandwich to find our first mistake.
We accidentally answered yes to, “Lettuce, tomato, and mayo?” Now, true Cubans don’t contain with lettuce, tomato or mayonnaise. In Tampa, only salami, ham, roast pork, Swiss cheese, pickle, and mustard make the classic build.
This addition would be a first for me and possibly a judgment factor. Regardless, it all looked fantastic and had my mouth watering. I organized our table, divided the crabs and potatoes, and took it all in.
For the next twenty or so minutes, nothing existed beyond that tabletop and my mouth.
The feast begins
Deep breath. Begin.
Devil crab first. A crispy crust of breadcrumbs shone light gold as opposed to the dark bronze served elsewhere. Inside, a meaty blend of backfin and special crab joined a red mix of tomato, peppers, and spices. The crunch through the crust led to moist fresh crab and savory piquant filling.
Brocato’s stuffs the crab mix into sliced white bread, as is the tradition. Unlike the thick doughy results at other places, theirs is thin, light, and creates the perfect shell structure for a portable snack.
A similar golden fried shell encased two softball-sized potato balls. Incredibly, this was a mini. The bombs were filled with ground beef picadillo. It was crunchy outside, soft and savory inside, and delicious. Unfortunately, the bell peppers turned Christa off. More for me (I’ll regret that).
The Cubano
Brocato’s served me the best Cubano I’ve had, hands down. No question theirs is the most delicious, most flavorful, most packed, most distinctive Cuban I’ve tried.
And yes, the lettuce and tomato and mayo helped, but weren’t responsible for the ranking.
No. What slew it for this sandwich was the quality meats and cheese (Boar’s Head) and their singular and savory roast pork. It was salty, spicy, marinated in a mojo, and roasted tender.
On the negative side, I thought it was a bit light on the swine. On the positive side, that puny portion of pork packed a powerful punch.
Crisp Cuban bread bore the press but not book-flat—there was still some air in the crumb. Teeth broke through the flaky crust into the cold veg and through the tender meats to pull away a tongue tantalizing bite of sandwich.
The dilemma
This was everything I wanted in a Tampa food experience. But my stomach was filling quickly
Here was the problem: we had no source of refrigeration for the next five or more hours. As a result, the generous size of Bracato’s portions and my abhorrence of wasted food led me to a horrible decision.
I ate every bit of food including what Christa couldn’t fit. But I fit all of it surprisingly with no discomfort. My stomach is a hammerspace. But my eyes are bigger than my stomach so…this is a complex mathematical issue.
Hope renewed, the hunt resumes
An older employee sitting at the door said to leave our trash on the table, they’d clear it. I thanked him and asked what magic they work on that pork. He just smiled and said, “Spices.” He may as well have said, “Ancient Tampa secret,” with a wink.
Later, Christa said she overheard he was the owner.
Busch Gardens was twenty minutes away and we had time to kill, so we meandered from roundabout to roundabout discussing the meal.
Our satisfaction left us no doubts that we were going to return. I had a new desire to try their Italian subs as they could be the closest thing to back home. And it was a cool little spot that gave a lot of food for the price, contrary to the initial sticker shock.
We pulled into the parking lot of the amusement park well fed and fueled for fun. As we walked to the gate I decided I’d continue the hunt for the best Cubano but to put some time between Brocato’s and the next contender.
I made a terrible miscalculation
Well, you’ll have to wait for the next article to get the full tale. Suffice it to say, a full stomach, regardless of the deliciousness of the contents, makes for a calamity on rides that loop, lunge, jerk, jolt, spin, and plummet.
Did we trick ourselves out of our treat?
And in the end
Truly, I love traditional Cuban sandwiches and have so since first experiencing La Tropicana in Ybor 25 years ago. Heck, I’ve been making them at home ever since, even roasting my own pork and serving them at my Eastern Market stand in Lancaster.
I believe that a traditional Cuban sandwich made with quality ingredients, a skill for flavors, and a passion for tasty food can surpass any old meat and veg between some bread.
Most places take the easy path; Brocato’s cleared a delicious one. Take away the lettuce, tomato, and mayo, and they’ve still got an excellent sandwich with great bread, fantastic pork, quality Boar’s Head ham, salami, and swiss, yellow mustard, and pickles.
Their outstanding deep-flavored roast pork sparked those bits and pieces to life.
Did we find the best Cuban sandwich in Tampa? If anything, Brocato’s has rekindled my curiosity. The hunt is on. Only time and more eating will tell who is the best in my book.
But for the moment, we needed to get moving. A park full of roller coasters demanded our presence.
- Which spot serves your favorite Cuban Sandwich?
- Lettuce and tomato? Mayonnaise? Pressed or cold?
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I was salivating. We have figured out a way to make cubans in Hanoi, which was quite the feat that involved making our own pickles. The texture of the Bahn mi (pronounced “bang me” not “bawn me” and yes we have fun with that phrase) bread is very close to Cuban bread. I love Brocattos, but there is another place in Safety Harbor called First Choice Food & Deli, worth checking out. They are different styles, and I might even prefer the latter for it’s price, location, and simple but delicious flavor. You should definitely add a visit to Safety Harbor. It was a big destination during the wellness and mediums era of Florida.
Thanks, Mary. I’m thrilled to know my post inspired fond memories of the food kind.
Homemade pickles are a treat. What do you use for cheese? I imagine Swiss is available, but do you like using a different type?
In Lancaster, our large community of Vietnamese neighbors gifted us many great pho and banh mi shops, both of which I love. But I don’t know if the bread used by any of those places was traditional Vietnamese baguettes (wheat and rice flour) or locally sourced Italian, French, or Peurto Rican pan de agua. Regardless, I never before considered a southeast Asian / Cuban hybrid sandwich.
The idea of a not-so-authentic Cuban banh mi with pork belly and pickled vegetables has me salivating.
When we next visit Safety Harbor, I’ll definitely swing by First Choice for a try. We visited Safety Harbor last November when house and job hunting and fell in love with the town. Unfortunately, it was too far from the place Christa accepted employment. Funny, she has now found a position in St. Petersburg. C’est la vie.
Thanks again, Mary, for reading and responding. It makes this all worthwhile.