The River’s Edge 2: The Out-of-Towners, Gibsonton
One excuse to revisit a favorite spot is to bring friends and family there to share in the joy of the gem you’ve discovered. Every town has that one spot that best represents the identity of the area, subjectively speaking, in terms of atmosphere, scenery, personality, and cuisine. It’s that spot where you take visiting friends and family to get the gist of the place, relax, and chow down.
With Christa’s parents in town, we had the perfect pass to put our hunts on hold and slip into a comfortable known. We were thrilled to take them to The River’s Edge—in close running to becoming our favorite spot on the Alafia River for affordable delicious food on an outstanding deck with a fantastic view, and excellent service. That’s a lot of hyperbole and it’s all deserved, within context.
As I’ve stated before, The River’s Edge is a complete package with very little left wanting, as long as your wants are conservative. By that I mean if you want to enjoy a few adult beverages over simple food prepared well, a casual atmosphere and a great view for an affordable price, we’ve found no better spot in the Brandon-Riverview area. Yes, better food can be had elsewhere, but when price, service, atmosphere, and view are considered, The River’s Edge is really hard to beat.
I could get a seared, dry aged, farm-to-table, grass-fed steak with brandied shallot maitre d’hotel butter, a lobster tail poached in Pouilly-Fuissé court bouillon with a Meyer lemon beurre blanc, white truffle potato gratin, and sauteed morels with fiddlehead ferns all on a star-lit deck over a harbor with a smooth jazz quartet playing nearby. It will knock my socks off and blow my wallet into the reflected moon of the shimmering docks.
For a fraction of the price, at the River’s Edge, I get tasty, if simple food and cold beverages on the scenic water with pleasant company and a relaxed vibe. I’m content. Save the wallet blowing for an anniversary…or a divorce, whichever you look forward to celebrating.
Jeans and t-shirt, slacks and dress shirt, coveralls and work boots—all fit in just fine. The drinks are cold, the food is fresh and hot, and the service is attentive. The green banks of the riverfront with lapping waves, gliding birds, and cruising boats is pleasurable. It was into this atmosphere that we delivered my inlaws for an evening meal out of doors in March, while their home in PA was getting a blanket of snow and gusty winds. Of all the places we visited during their visit, this one was the ideal representation of our experience in Hillsborough County.
We grabbed a table beside the water and chewed over the menu. I told my father in law that the freshly shucked oysters came highly recommended, so we each settled on an order. Based on my experience on our last visit, I also recommended the fried fresh grouper sandwich if they were in the mood for a taste of the local sea. They were, and three were ordered. I opted for a Cuban, to continue my assessment of the Tampa favorite, a side of fried okra, to introduce to Christa’s parents, and a devil crab. This would be my first taste of Florida’s answer to the Chesapeake crab cake.
The oysters arrived properly perched on ice with thick fresh lemon wedges, a caddy of saltines and two ramekins–one packed with prepared horseradish, the other with cocktail sauce. Next time, I’ll have to remember to save them the waste. If the oysters are good, they need nothing except the lemon, and these were excellent. Plump, tender, and tasting of nothing but the briny sea these were some really good oysters.
I’ve never done the cracker and oyster combo, though my father in law eats them with club crackers. We abstained from both that day. The oysters were cleanly shucked, fully detached with very little if any bits of shell, nested plump and glistening in their half-shells of sea water. A simple squeeze of lemon all around and a lift and slurp were all it took. My six were gone before anyone blinked and Roy’s dozen lasted little longer. We could have done that all evening, but the sandwiches soon arrived.
Three fried fillets of grouper on buns arrived with a tasty looking Cubano and a what looked to be a big baked potato in a basket of fried okra. The ersatz potato was the deviled crab—my first foray into the Tampa tradition. It resembled and was similar in size to a Scotch egg.
The grouper looked as good as it did on our last visit. The golden batter fried filets dwarfed their enriched white buns and everyone needed to cut off almost half to be able to handle it as a sandwich. A squeeze of mayo or dollop of tartar married the lettuce and tomato to the fish and a top bun completed the package, ready for delivery to abdominal fathoms.
As Christa and I had agreed on our last visit, the only thing that would improve the grouper sandwich would be fresh cut french fries with malt vinegar. A brioche bun would be a plus, but not necessary–that fresh, clean tasting, firm fish does all the work and needs little help after salt and mayo or their (I believe) homemade tartar sauce with its nice pickle and vinegar tang.
I cracked the crust of the deep fried Deviled Crab and a waft of steam erupted from the fissure. Better let it rest lest my taste buds get seared. I separated a small piece to cool and went for a taste of coleslaw—the cabbage was crisp and the effort was made to incorporate red cabbage and carrot as well, though it could use more mayo, vinegar, and celery seed—that’s just my personal taste.
The deviled crab looked a little dark, like it may have been forgotten in the deep fryer, or the oil was too hot, but a taste of the shell proved it was not burned. It had a nutty flavor that gave dimension to the crab and breadcrumb center. The meat looked like it could be a mix of special and claw, tossed with the seasonings and tomato sauce it was broken into loose strands. The flavor was of a stronger crabby profile that served well to not get lost in the spices and tomato flavor but was not as enjoyable as the mild delicate flavor of fresh picked lump crab meat. It didn’t need the included hot sauce.
I’m not sure how I feel about devil crabs, yet. The flavors and textures of a broiled or fried Chesapeake style lump crab cake are more to my liking. But I certainly looked forward to trying others to see if this was typical or distinctive.
I also chose fried okra to share but I wound up having it all to myself. The thin breading added texture and flavor and was fried to an attractive golden brown. A dose of salt and they were fine, but a dip in the accompanying ranch dressing made them better. Then I mixed a little hot sauce into the ranch and it was like your chocolate in my peanut butter. They were no substitute for fried mushrooms, but they would do in a pinch.
The Cuban sandwich was tasty. It was the right bread lightly pressed with a nice melt on the cheese. True to Tampa tradition, this one featured genoa salami with ham, and pork—most likely their own pulled pork—and turkey. The Swiss cheese, pickle, and yellow mustard were along for the ride.
The whole sandwich came together nicely, though I think the turkey (traditional, though it may be) was lost in all the other flavors—just gimme more pork. It was a tasty sandwich and worth getting again if in the mood for a Cuban (though I think the next time I’ll continue exploring the menu and try either the Ruben or Cheesesteak.) I’d rank it as just above average. That’s not a bad thing. Few surpass average and many fall below.
Begin Side Rant
I love Cuban sandwiches, but here’s the unfortunate rub: it’s a simple sandwich with basic components. A significant change from the traditional build is required to set one place’s offering notably apart from another’s. A shite Cuban is easy to identify: meager portions of flavorless, boiled, processed ham, cheap swiss, bland bread, and the roasted pork is usually absent.
But a good quality Cuban is only a matter of including a good roasted pork and better quality ingredients. And Tampa’s salami and/or turkey. This is the problem when people try to hype up beloved foods that got their start in low-income communities (e.g., the hoagie, the pastie, barbecue, lobster rolls).
When it’s all said and done, a Cuban is just a grilled ham and cheese with pork, pickles and yellow mustard. That’s not a stunning collection of components no matter how many pseudo-celebrities the food networks send to Florida. One great well-made traditional Cuban sandwich is going to taste very similar to another well-made Cuban sandwich.
To elevate that basic sandwich above average requires extras; e.g. a well-marinated moist pork, tasso ham, aged Gruyere, toast the bread with garlic-butter, sweet pickles, honey mustard.
These steps diverge from the traditional and start to veer away from what is an original Cuban, but that fine line must be danced around if you want to set your sandwich truly above the rest. These steps also add more work to the kitchen and if the business is just fine with an adequate sandwich, then why upset the apple cart. Just stop claiming your place has the best Cuban.
River’s Edge never claimed to have the best Cubans and I’m not out to tear them a new one for not making the best Cuban—I’m just thinking out loud while on the subject. River’s Edge makes a damned good Cuban and that’s just alright with me.
End Side Rant
The service was fairly attentive considering there were two servers for the whole deck and it was half full but most guests arrived around the same time. We didn’t wait long for any courses and our drinks were filled at a decent rate. As we noted last time, the staff was all smiles and pleasant and really seemed to enjoy working at The River’s Edge.
We ate until our tums were fat while wakes from cruising boats lapped the pilings, the gulls circled, the pelicans dove and the other guests laughed and talked over their meals and drinks. It was a peaceful meal on a peaceful deck with peaceful people.
The Sun was drawing low, but not low and fast enough to make it reasonable to wait around for a colorful sunset. We settled up the bill and made for home after another enjoyable experience at The River’s Edge.
Two for two, they are fast becoming a favorite spot. With Christa’s parents heading home in two days, we’re going to have to find a new excuse to make a third visit, pronto. Taco and margarita nights on Tuesdays and Thursdays, you say?
Thanks for reading!