Category: Groceries

The ‘Dines List 4: Sketches of Spain

This is my fourth installment of The ‘Dines List, a series of rambling reviews that extol the virtues of sardines and other tinned seafood, which I eat quite often. The goal is to review new and interesting tinned fish and shellfish I discover in my travels (or friends send me as gifts), and also to win over the sardine-skeptical.  Sardines in particular are very healthy due to being pure protein and full of omega-3 fatty acids.  They are mostly environmentally friendly since they are tiny little fellers who are low on the food chain.  And they are surprisingly delicious — far tastier and less “fishy” than the uninitiated might think.

A few years back, sardines started going viral for being “hot girl food” (check that Vogue article if you don’t believe me!), which really raised their profile and made these humble little fish both trendy and sexy.  Well, I am neither hot, nor a girl, nor sexy, and rarely am I trendy, but I’ve been flying my fish flag since I was a poor college student decades ago.  Now I eat them because I like them, not because I have to.  I guess I’m just ahead of my time, like with the whole loving superheroes thing, ever since I was a little kid in the early ’80s, long before they were cultural icons.  Awww, I’ll never be a cultural icon.

(But good grief, there is already some backlash against the whole tinned fish trend, and I blame the criticism on the fact that women have embraced it.  Let people — and especially women — enjoy things!  Be curious, not judgmental!)

Anyway, back in 2021, I wrote my first riveting installment of The ‘Dines List, which I titled Canned Sardines 101, listing and reviewing some of my favorites and providing advice and recommendations for the ‘dine-curious.  Then I started getting geographical with The ‘Dines List 2: Mission to Morocco!, where I only reviewed Moroccan sardines, and The ‘Dines List 3: Postcards from Portugal, where I only covered Portuguese tinned seafood.  As you might guess, these countries along the Mediterranean Sea have huge fishing and canning industries, as well as a culture and tradition of dining on ‘dines.  I wrote about Portuguese sardines way back in March 2023, so it was only fitting that I’d get around to Spanish sardines and other tinned seafood eventually.  Spain and Portugal produce the most serious gourmet tins, and I’ve been trying as many different varieties as I could in the meantime.  So with all due respect to the legendary Miles Davis, welcome to The ‘Dines List 4: Sketches of Spain.

I found Vigo hot spiced sardines in sunflower oil at Mazzaro’s Italian Market in St. Petersburg, a place I always recommend and rave about.  As sardines and other tinned seafood have become more popular and trendy, Mazzaro’s has dramatically increased its tinned seafood selection with a lot of higher-end Spanish and Portuguese brands that you won’t find at everyday supermarkets.  These Vigo sardines are some of the cheaper ones at Mazzaro’s, for $2.99.  I’ve also seen them at Walmart, but just the big Supercenter near me, not the smaller Neighborhood Markets.  Does anyone else think of Vigo the Carpathian coming alive inside the painting in Ghostbusters 2, whenever they see this Spanish food brand?  No?  Just me?  It can’t just be me!

Once I drained most of the oil, these definitely weren’t as pretty, so maybe you get what you pay for.  I either ate these bad boys straight out of the tin or dumped them on top of a salad.  I recall them being perfectly okay, but I’ve had better — read on to see some of them!

I bought these La Española sardines in “oil – spiced & piquant” at Bay Cities Italian Deli & Bakery, an awe-inspiring Italian market and deli in Los Angeles’ beautiful Santa Monica neighborhood.  Bay Cities is a West L.A. icon that has been open since 1925.  I bought several sandwiches and a bunch of snacks there on a work trip in April 2025, including a few different La Española tins, since I’ve never seen this brand for sale anywhere in Florida.  That way I had food for my hotel room and for work lunches, since I never rent a car in Los Angeles.  At some point, I’ll get around to writing a Bay Cities Italian Deli & Bakery review, because it deserves one.

These were larger sardines — firm and meaty, not super-spicy, but just fine for eating out of the tin in a hotel room like the most depressing film noir antihero ever.  I don’t remember finding the pickle and carrot slices pictured on the outer box, but they may have been under the ‘dines.

These Jadran sardines with hot pepper are interesting, because they seem to be harvested from the Adriatic Sea (between the boot of Italy and Croatia), but the box specified they are a product of Spain — perhaps processed there.  I think I bought them at either the huge International Food Club out on L.B. McLeod Road off John Young Parkway (a super-fun place to browse and discover treasures) or at Tima’s House, the small Euro-Balkan market in Longwood.

They weren’t the prettiest sardines ever, but I have plenty of silvery beauties coming up:

I added them to a nice salad, so isn’t this a work of art?  Dig the jammy hard-boiled eggs and beautiful pickled onions I made myself.

I’m pretty sure I picked up these Serrats small sardines in olive oil when they were on sale at our friendly neighborhood Fresh Market, because I don’t like paying full price for the fancy Spanish and Portuguese sardine brands. 

These were attractive, silvery fish, packed tightly and beautifully in their tin.  (I had already drained the oil here.)  I think more people would like sardines if they all looked this nice and orderly, since people eat with their eyes.  But did they taste good?

I served them on some lightly toasted Cuban bread with more of my homemade pickled onions from a different batch and some sliced tomatoes.  As you can see, they fell apart a bit as I removed them from their tight tin, but these were very good.

Fresh Market is where I’ve bought the vast majority of my Matiz sardines as well.  I am nuts for lemon desserts, but not as big on lemon in savory dishes.  Still, I had to try these Matiz wild sardines with natural lemon essence.

Trust me, they looked a lot less blurry in real life.  I don’t recall them tasting super-lemony, which was fine with me, but they didn’t make a strong impact on my memory, which means they weren’t mind-blowingly amazing or mind-blowingly awful.  I probably wouldn’t buy this variety again as a result, but I never regret trying anything.

My next Matiz product was their wild spicy sardines with piri piri pepper in olive oil, also from Fresh Market:

My only experience with piri piri peppers so far had been in hot sauce from Nando’s, the South African grilled chicken chain I tried in Chicago and still need to write about.  If Nando’s opened locations in Orlando, it would be a license to print money, but you can buy Nando’s piri piri-based hot sauce  (they call it peri peri there) and “Perinaise” at Publix and Fresh Market.  Just one look at these ‘dines made me think they would have a nice, vinegary, tangy bite to them.   

I had these with some rice after draining most of the oil, and sprinkled them with some crispy fried jalapeños.  They were a great little lunch, and barely spicy at all on their own.  The little included pepper is usually like an empty sack of seeds and never terribly pleasant to eat, but do I try every time?  YUP!

I had an even better feeling about these Matiz wild small sardines with sweet piquillo peppers, because I always think smaller sardines taste better and have better textures than the larger ones, and piquillo peppers make everything better.

They looked nice and silvery in the tin after I drained most of the oil.

I don’t even remember what kind of dark, crusty bread I ate with these little ‘dines, but I spread some cream cheese underneath them.  They were excellent, and for a change, the little peppers were pleasant to eat.  I always appreciate a piquillo pepper, though.

I liked these so much that I tried another tin on a different nice salad:

A while back, an old friend mailed me these Donostia Foods sardines in spiced sauce, and I knew they would be awesome.  She runs The Back Yard restaurant and bar in Baltimore and started their imported gourmet tinned seafood program, which sounds like a big hit.

I knew that despite a nondescript box, these would be special sardines because they included olive oil, tomato, carrot, cucumber, red pepper, onion, “spices,” and salt.  They were some of the most delicious ‘dines I’ve ever had. 

Here they are on a cracker with a wee cornichon from the tin.  This was a well-balanced bite of food!

I am lucky to have true and dear friends in my life, and sometimes they even hook me up with tinned seafood.  I hope you all have people like this in your own lives.  My best foodie friend and his wonderful girlfriend surprised me with these Los Peperetes sardinillas (small sardines), which he had read raving reviews about.  She was already in Spain, and he sent her on a special mission to track these down for me.  Can you imagine going to that trouble for someone you haven’t even met yet?  They are awesome, and so were these Los Peperetes.

Look at how beautifully packed these tiny sardinillas are!  Los Peperetes did an artful job.
Even the tiny tails were lightly crispy.  Yes, you can eat the tails, and you won’t choke or anything.  I like them.

I had to include this photo to show that there was a whole second layer of tightly packed fish below the top layer.  It was the gift that keeps on giving!  These were really something special.  I ate them plain at first, to get the full effect without any other distracting flavors, but I still have one more tin that I’m saving for a special occasion (or maybe a nice treat if we lose power during hurricane season).  You can’t ask for better quality sardines than these, or better quality friends than mine!   

The same dude surprised me a different time with this assortment of imported Spanish tinned seafood from Conservas de Cambados, which blew my mind.  This freakin’ guy!  What a mensch!  I had never heard of this brand before or seen them for sale locally, but I recently saw them for the first time “in the wild” at the aforementioned Mazzaro’s Italian Market in St. Petersburg.  I was absolutely blown away by his generosity and excited to dig into each of these.

There was only one tin of sardines in the box, but I knew they would be great because they were small.  Luckily for us, the label tells us the tin contains fish (sardines, in fact)!

This was up there with the Serrats and the Los Peperetes for gorgeous presentation.  I definitely think more people would eat sardines if more tins looked like this:

Here they are on some toasted Cuban bread… or maybe this was a Cusano’s hoagie roll, which I make a special trip to Gordon Food Service to buy.  There were a bunch of these little guys!  I might have added some lettuce, tomato, onion, and a splash of vinaigrette after the photo op, but I wanted to photograph them in an unadulterated manner first.

Wait a minute, ye scurvy scalawag!  This next thing isn’t a sardine!  I know, I know — it is line-caught Spanish white tuna belly, also from the Conservas de Cambados assortment.  I love tuna in all its forms: raw in sushi or poke, seared as a posh appetizer or entree, or even the cheap canned stuff in a tuna salad sandwich or tuna melt.  I hardly ever eat canned tuna because of the mercury, and because the smell of regular canned tuna makes my wife gag in a way that sardines (luckily for both of us) do not.  But this was a rare and decadent treat, and this was the best place to include it. 

I don’t know what I was expecting, but it looked a hell of a lot more appetizing than the cheap “chunk light” tuna in natural spring water that I grew up eating, and packing the fish in oil rather than water makes it smell a lot less offensively fishy.   

After draining the oil, I enjoyed it on some toasted Cuban bread with a light slathering of Duke’s mayo underneath.  I make really good tuna salad (and chicken salad, and egg salad), but this was such a luxurious product, I didn’t want to dilute the flavor with any other distractions.  As you might guess, it was a cut above any canned tuna I’ve ever had in my life.  It just tasted rich — not necessarily fatty, but not “fishy” and definitely not dry.

The Conservas de Cambados gift box also included a tin of line-caught Spanish white tuna in olive oil, which I forgot to photograph, but it was also really good, I assure you.  And the other tins in the photo above were scallops and two different types of octopus, which I will tell you about later.

As long as we’re talking about delicious Spanish tuna, this is my most recent discovery from Bravo Supermarket, the Latin grocery store chain with multiple locations here in the Orlando area: Conchita Fritada de Atun, or Zesty Tuna Fish Dip.  It was essentially a tuna paté blended smoothly with tomatoes, pimento, onions, pickles, “spices,” rice flour, and sunflower oil.  It might look like cat food, but it tasted luxurious and was absolute heaven to eat, meow meow.  I dipped some toasted pita bread wedges in it, and I loved every moment.  It was cheap, too — had to be $2.99 or at most, $3.99.  It would be easy enough to make something similar, but this was better than it had any right to be.

Finally, these aren’t sardines either, but huevas de merluza, or hake roe (hake being a whole different kind of fish).  I had never heard of this Spanish company Agromar, or even hake, but it turns out they are medium-to-large fish related to cod and haddock, so nothing like the little dudes I’ve been specializing in writing about so far.  But I do love fish eggs, whether they are masago (orange capelin roe), tobiko (orangey-red flying fish roe), or ikura (that much larger salmon roe that pops in your mouth like popping boba) in sushi, or caviar, that ultra-decadent delight.  And these were spicy too, so how could I not try it? By the way, I bought this at the best place to buy fancy tinned seafood in Orlando, Hinckley’s Fancy Meats in the East End Market food hall.  I reviewed Matt Hinckley’s wonderful sandwiches a few years back, and he is definitely a master of smoking and curing meats, making patés and rillettes, and so much more.  But since then, he has branched out into curating and selling some very high-end, fancy tinned fish and shellfish from Spain and Portugal, so check out his staggering selection and order some.  Yes, he ships!

These definitely didn’t look anything like what I would have expected, though.  Not tiny round eggs, and not anything like bottarga, that intensely flavored, decadent, Italian salt-cured roe sac from a grey mullet, either.  The box refers to them as “medallones” (medallions), and I guess they look like that… or sliced Vienna sausages.  At first, I didn’t know what to think, but I will try anything once!

These hake roe medallions are some serious gourmet shit, and what do I do?  Serve them (just to myself, because my wife would have wanted nothing to do with this) on Ritz crackers, which are the best and most versatile crackers.  I’ll dip Ritz crackers into smoked whitefish salad or chopped liver, spread them with cream cheese and guava paste, or crush them and bake them into the best buttery-salty-sweet pie crust ever.  Or I’ll put hake roe on ’em! Were they tasty?  Sure.  They weren’t spicy at all, not salty, or even “fishy,” but they were pleasant.  Can I describe the texture?  No, not really.  It really wasn’t like anything else I’ve ever eaten.  Am I glad I tried them?  You better believe it!  Would I get them again?  Probably not, only because there is a wide world of seafood out there, and I’d love to try some different impulse buys from the vast selection at Hinckley’s Fancy Meats before doubling back.  But if you’re buying the next round, stalwart Saboscrivnerinos, I will happily enjoy some future huevas de merluza tapas with you!

That’s all for now, but I have a huge stash of more sardines and other tinned seafood to review, from Spain and other seas and ports around the world.  In the meantime, whether you read this piece while sardines are still in style or discover it long after the tinned trend has come and gone, you can always rely on The ‘Dines List for detailed descriptions and unbiased reviews of humble (and occasionally not so humble) tinned fish.  And coming soon, we’ll venture into the wild waters and delicious depths of tinned shellfish, so get ready to see me flexing my mussels.

Cutting the Mustard IV: Mustard on the Beat

Well, it’s Memorial Day weekend, 2025 — a time for many people to get a three-day weekend and get together with family and friends for cookouts.  That usually means hamburgers and hot dogs, so that usually means mustard.  And because I am obsessed with mustard, that means it is time for my fourth Cutting the Mustard feature, where I spend the better part of a year hunting, discovering, sampling, and reviewing massive multitudes of mustard.  These take me a while to write because our fridge is only so big, and I can’t have too many open bottles and jars taking up space at the same time, so I try to finish jars before opening new ones.

For my first-ever Cutting the Mustard back in 2021, I reviewed seven different mustards.  In 2022, I raised the stakes by reviewing ten different mustards in Cutting the Mustard II: The Quest for More Mustard.  In 2024, I went above and beyond by reviewing 26 mustards (making up for skipping 2023) in Cutting the Mustard III: Mustardy Agreement.  And now I’m back again, with more of that yellow condiment you may tolerate, but I love!

Since I’m trying to eat somewhat healthier, with fewer carbs, I tried a lot of these mustards with Kirkland oven-browned turkey breast, which I buy at Costco.  It is a boneless, skinless, fully cooked, unsliced turkey breast that is relatively cheap, lean protein.  Best of all, it is a blank slate for any kinds of recipes or sandwiches, and it goes with almost any condiments or other accompaniments.  Kirkland oven-browned turkey breast is like the vanilla of meats, and I am not saying that as a diss to the turkey or to vanilla.  Everyone knows that really good vanilla is delicious, but what I mean is that almost any other flavor goes well with it.  So I guess I’m saying that turkey breast is like the capybara of meats, because it gets along well with everything the way capybaras get along with all the other animals.

Way back in Cutting the Mustard II, I reviewed Zakuson Russian Standard mustard, a real sinus-burner.  I got the Zakuson Canadian mustard on the left at the same store, the Eastern European grocery store Green Hills Supermarket in Altamonte Springs.  Instead of having that nasal burn like Chinese mustard, this one was toned down with a sweet maple flavor.  I usually find sweet mustards to be too sweet, but this one was mostly just sticky and bland.  I wouldn’t get it again. 
I think I found the Simply Supreme Craft Beer mustard at Clemons Produce, arguably Orlando’s best produce market, and my personal favorite.  In addition to the freshest fruits and vegetables from Florida and beyond, Clemons always stocks a huge selection of Amish products and other interesting condiments, sauces, sodas, and snacks, plus they have an Amish deli that slices Troyer brand meats and cheeses.  This Simply Supreme Craft Beer mustard is a Woeber’s product; I’ve reviewed their Sweet & Spicy and and Hot & Spicy Sandwich Pal mustards before, and both were better.  This one lacked the “zing” I always appreciate in mustards, so I could see it going better with bratwurst and other German-style sausages that have stronger flavors of their own.

I know I found the Duke’s spicy ground mustard at Winn-Dixie, and it was really good.  I would happily get it again and use it anytime I might employ a spicy brown or deli-style mustard.  I am a Duke’s mayonnaise loyalist, and I am happy to report this mustard was on par with the excellent quality of their mayo.

On a rare day I found myself with time to kill in Winter Park, I found a parking space along busy, bougie Park Avenue and went into the busy, bougie Ancient Olive, a store that specializes in different flavors of olive oil and balsamic vinegar.  If you love to cook and especially if you make a lot of salads at home, this is a wonderful place to browse, especially since you can sample any of the flavored oils and vinegars before you buy them.  I love vinegars almost as much as I love mustard, and I have a little collection of them, but that’s not what you’re here for.  I decided to try two fancy mustards from unfamiliar but posh-looking brands.

This is Fischer & Wieser mesquite horseradish mustard, which was as delicious as it sounds.   The mesquite smoke flavor sets it apart from other horseradishy, deli-style mustards, and I loved it.  Here are two tiny turkey sandwiches on leftover pão de queijo, Brazilian cheese buns, with more of that turkey, a bit of cheese, tomato, and I probably put some hot pickled cherry peppers on those, since I bought a gallon jar and have been putting them on everything lately.  But if you’ve ever had pão de queijo before, you know they are really little, so these aren’t big sandwiches by any means.   

Here’s a close-up of the jar.  This would be terrific on turkey (obviously), roast beef, ham (especially a sweeter ham), you name it.

This is Edmond Fallot honey & smoked paprika mustard, another impulse buy from The Ancient Olive.  It is a French brand I’ve never heard of, but it looked interesting, and I’m a sucker for anything smoky, as I just demonstrated.  Lately I’ve been making nice pita bread sandwiches with the same turkey, and I tried the honey & smoked paprika mustard alongside turkey, feta cheese, tomatoes, cucumbers, pickled onions, hot pickled cherry peppers, and I think some bleu cheese dressing, which I always get to have for myself when I bring home wings for my wife.

This isn’t a bad condiment, but it is very salty, even by mustard standards.   The smokiness is subtle because I think paprika is always a subtle spice, and I didn’t detect any honey flavor or general sweetness.  Unfortunately, it doesn’t taste anything like mustard either!

This small jar is still open in my fridge, with a lot left to go.  I bought some giant pork loins at Aldi recently, for even cheaper, lean, versatile protein to mess around with, and I intend to experiment more and figure out the best things to do with it.  I think it might go better with pork than it did with turkey and all those fresh-tasting accompaniments.

When I reviewed my favorite place in Florida, Mazzaro’s Italian Market in St. Petersburg, last summer, of course I picked up a few unfamiliar mustards while I was there.  I had never seen or heard of the MadeWith brand, but I bought their Organic Stoneground and Organic Horseradish mustards, but forgot to take any pictures of the Horseradish one while I was working my way through the bottle.  They were very similar, with a thick and almost creamy texture, but the stoneground was a little blander and the horseradish had more flavor without being overpowering or burning my sinuses.  MadeWith makes a big deal about their products not containing any GMOs, in case anyone is really into that.   
Yes, this was a turkey sandwich on a savory homemade waffle.  It was okay, but the waffle got too soft and soggy too quickly and lost its crispness.  And that Sir Kensington’s chipotle mayonnaise is awesome on anything and everything.  Despite my Duke’s love, I snatched up a few of these bottles when Publix put them on clearance earlier this year.  I’ve enjoyed two of Sir Kensington’s mustards in the past as well.

I also found this Pilsudski Polish style mustard at Mazzaro’s.  It was thicker and spicier than your typical Gulden’s-style spicy brown mustard, without being as bright as something like Ba-Tampte.  It was very good on the best pastrami sandwich in Florida, from The Pastrami Project food truck.  Chef-owner George Markward saved our Christmas AND Hanukah by being open on Christmas Day, so I brought home pastrami and brisket sandwiches for us, and the Pilsudski mustard was a good choice to accompany the best pastrami from a place not named Katz’s or Langer’s.

Last year, Beaverton Foods, the Oregon-based company that produces Beaver and Inglehoffer mustards, offered a sale with free shipping, so I ordered six mustards from them.  

Every so often, I will treat myself to a whole ham at Aldi, usually when they discount them after a ham-centric holiday like Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas.  I always joke about my “half-price Hanukah hams,” and how that makes me a good Jew and a bad Jew at the same time.  Anyway, I rubbed my most recent ham  with a blend of Beaver deli mustard and a pineapple-Scotch bonnet pepper Jamaican hot sauce from a company called Spur Tree, and then I made sure to use a lot more of the deli mustard on the ham sandwiches that followed.  It was a very tasty deli mustard,  but again lacking the brightness of Ba-Tampte, Boar’s Head, and Kosciusko, three of my all-time favorites. 
I should note that the Inglehoffer deli mustard in the round bottle tasted almost identical.  I wondered if Beaverton Foods just repackaged the same mustard for their two different brands, and upon checking the website (now that my bottles are long gone), they are similar, with a few minor differences.  I noticed they both contain sugar and soybean and/or canola oils, which was disappointing, especially since most mustards don’t contain (or need) any oil or sugar at all, and the Beaver deli mustard contains corn syrup too!  I’ve never been big on reading ingredient labels, which probably explains a lot about me, but I need to become more diligent.

Here’s that Beaver deli mustard again, for a taste test with one of those Deutsche Kuche soft pretzel sticks (I pronounce it “Douche cooch”) from Aldi.  The mustard in the middle is Bertman Original Ball Park Mustard, which I believe I found at Cavallari Gourmet, an upscale grocery store in Oviedo.  It’s a great store, but I can’t say the same about the mustard.  It didn’t have any zing or zip, and it was quite bland and uninspired.  I’m never sorry I tried anything, but I definitely wouldn’t buy it again.  Sorry, Cleveland — you might rock, but your Bertman mustard doesn’t.

On the other hand, the Beaver Coney Island mustard in the above and below photos, did indeed rock.  I loved this one.  The Coney Island mustard contains cucumbers, red bell peppers, red and green chili peppers, pimento, paprika, onion,  garlic, and tomato paste, and it had a lot of rich flavor, especially on the hot dog below.  Disappointingly, it also contained soybean oil, wheat flour, sugar, and corn syrup.  Seriously, Beaver?  Did you really have to go there?
When I think of Coney Island, I definitely think of hot dogs (specifically Nathan’s) and The Warriors, the great 1979 film and recent musical concept album.  But “Coney dogs” are a very specific style of hot dog that are not local to Coney Island in Brooklyn; they are from Detroit diners founded by Greek immigrants, and they are smoky dogs topped with a smooth chili sauce, raw onion, and yellow mustard, somewhat similar to the chili-topped hot dogs from Cincinnati chili parlors like Skyline Chili.  Here in Orlando, SoDough Square Pizza serves an authentic Detroit coney dog that I loved, but they just use regular yellow mustard.  I figured Beaver was trying to approximate the Midwestern chili flavors of Coney dogs rather than anything associated with Nathan’s or the historic Coney Island amusement park.

The Inglehoffer spicy brown mustard was pretty standard.  Here it is on the free Chorizo Sunrise breakfast sandwich I get from Einstein Bros. Bagels every year on my birthday: an over-hard egg, a chorizo sausage patty, cheddar cheese, smashed avocado, and jalapeño salsa cream cheese on a green chile bagel.  While I try my best to avoid chains and I have high standards for bagels, I admit I really like this breakfast sandwich and the green chile bagels from Einstein Bros.  They are much more like rolls than bagels, but I enjoy them a lot just the same.  And I always like mustard on my eggs and breakfast sandwiches, so this was a good combination.

Because we were both wondering, the Inglehoffer spicy brown mustard doesn’t contain any oil, the way the deli mustard does.

The Beaver hickory bacon mustard, which I had on this turkey sandwich on a depressing whole wheat roll, was tasty, creamy, and smoky, and it contains actual bacon, so watch out, kosher and halal folks.  But I would have been disappointed if I bought a hickory bacon mustard that didn’t contain bacon.  Unfortunately, it also contains sugar, honey, and high fructose corn syrup!  Like I said, I’m always happy to try anything new, but knowing how Beaverton Foods adulterates its mustards with oils and sweeteners, I wouldn’t get them again.  This is why I write reviews, folks, and why I hope people read them.  According to my monthly analytics, the jury is still out on that one.

I found this photo of my mustard collection from many years ago, long before I even started writing this blog.  You may remember most of these mustards from previous Cutting the Mustard reviews, but you can see I also tried the Beaver spicy hot stone ground and extra hot jalapeño mustards in the past (see them on the right, the two bottles of orangey mustard with red caps).   I bought them at Mr. Dunderbak’s, the good and fun German restaurant in Tampa, after trying them with my food.  It has been a few years since I’ve tried either of those flavors, but they were delicious and very hot — hotter than most other mustards I’ve had. 
The spicy hot stone ground mustard seems to be discontinued, but the extra hot jalapeño mustard does contain soybean oil.  Take several seats, Beaverton Foods!

But this is the spiciest thing I am reviewing here today: Matouk’s Calypso hot sauce, a mustard and Scotch bonnet pepper-based hot sauce from the Caribbean island of Trinidad & Tobago.  I loooove Trinidadian food (and if you like Jamaican food, you will too), but this sauce was a lot for me.  I put some on this simple chicken sandwich on a soft roll with tomato and probably a little onion, knowing me, and it was the most dominant flavor by far.  I love spicy food, but I needed to eat a bit of yogurt or drink some milk every time I used the Matouk’s Calypso sauce.  It made my tongue and lips tingle and burn that much, but despite all that, it is tasty.

It has been far too long since I’ve had a Jamaican patty, but this mustardy hot sauce would be great with them.

So after a whole year of anticipation (by absolutely nobody), this was the latest crop of new mustards I have found, sampled, and earnestly evaluated.  Somehow, it feels like a bit of a letdown after previous years, if I do say so myself.  But fear not, stalwart Saboscrivnerinos — I already have a dozen new mustards waiting in the wings to try, after a fruitful trip to South Florida earlier this year.  I went down to visit my family and attend a concert with my best friend, where we happened to eat one of the best restaurant meals of my entire life.  But I also stopped at an Italian gourmet market and two kosher grocery stores and stocked up on plenty of new and exciting mustards for the 2025-2026 year, so stay tuned, true believers!

Mazzaro’s Italian Market (St. Petersburg)

Mazzaro’s Italian Market (https://www.mazzarosmarket.com/), located in mainland St. Petersburg, Florida (not on St. Pete Beach) is to me what Walt Disney World is to most people — a land of magic and wonders, an expensive way to have a grand time, and if not the happiest place on Earth, then one of the happiest places in Florida for sure.

The market is huge — not quite as large as a Publix-style supermarket, or even as big as the two-story Eataly in Chicago, but much larger than Orlando’s beloved Stasio’s Italian Deli and Market or even the new D’Amico & Sons Italian Market and Bakery.  (Honestly, I enjoy it so much more than the very corporate and bougie Eataly.)  It seems to sprawl on forever, with a wine room, a cheese room, a cafe, a gelato area, counters for freshly made sandwiches, deli meats and cheese sliced to order, hot prepared foods, fresh pasta, and this scenic bakery to your left when you enter, where everything is made from scratch, like almost everything else in Mazzaro’s.  It is always crowded, so you’ll have to jostle your way through the narrow, mazelike aisles.  Midwesterners, prepare to say “Ope!” a lot, while New Yawkers might prefer “Eyyy, I’m walkin’ here!”

Back in 2022, my wife chose this simple cannoli from the bakery, with the crispy-crunchy pastry shell piped full of rich, sweet cream and dipped into crushed pistachios.

This was a gorgeous sfogliatelle, a delicate shell-shaped pastry made of dozens of crispy layers of dough, with cream in the middle (usually a bit lemony), dusted with powdered sugar so it looks more like it came from Miami than St. Petersburg.  Luckily, one can get  sfogliatelle in Orlando now, at Stasio’s or D’Amico & Sons, but on a rare pilgrimage to Mazzaro’s, you have to try everything you can.  One of my favorite food-related activities is “Dare… To Compare!”, and this pastry shell will make you yell “Shell yeah!”

Hilariously, my wife calls sfogliatelle “schmuckatelli.”  I could listen to her say that all day.

I don’t even remember what this thing was!  Some sort of fruity center, for sure.

Heck, we brought these two sugar-topped beauties home with us last month, and I don’t remember what they were either!

My wife is a sucker for a good New York style black and white cookie, which are more like cake when done right, with the slightest hint of lemon underneath the rich, shiny icing.  This one, from our most recent visit last month, was as good as any we’ve gotten from New York bagel shops, bakeries, and delis.

As I said, Mazzaro’s is almost always crowded, but never moreso on Fridays or Saturdays, where everyone feels packed in like a certain tinned fish I love.  That may be a reason the store seems so large, because it takes so long to traverse and even longer to take it all in.  When you finally make it past the bakery, weaving through equally overwhelmed shoppers experiencing sensory overload in that maze of shelves for non-perishable groceries, you will find yourself faced with a plethora of options for fresh pasta, prepared foods, and deli sandwiches.

Here are just a few of the fresh filled pastas to choose from, which you can order by the pound.

There is a large refrigerated case with more handmade pasta already rationed and weighed in convenient containers.

I’ve never ordered any of the prepared foods because I’m always just passing through, but if you lived locally, you could easily take care of dinner for a single person, a couple, a small family, or even a big party.  Yes,  for those in the St. Pete area, Mazzaro’s caters as well, and I have to imagine you would be the host with the most or the hostess with the mostest if you brought in their fine fare.

My wife doesn’t share my obsession with Italian subs or sandwiches in general, so on our 2022 trip, she ordered this pair of lobster and seafood rolls from the deli counter.  She prefers lobster rolls served warm with butter (Connecticut style), whereas I prefer them served cold with mayo and a little bit of diced celery for crunch (Maine style), and that’s what these were.  I ended up eating the vast majority of these, which was fine with me. On our return in 2024, she remembered this was not the way (at least not for her), so she ordered a grilled caprese sandwich, with tomato, fresh basil, fresh mozzarella, and pesto spread on grilled Italian bread, and devoured it with gusto on Mazzaro’s covered patio, despite not liking fresh tomatoes or sandwiches that much.  I didn’t even get a photo of it!

This is Mazzaro’s tried-and-true #1 from our 2022 visit: ham, Genoa salami, capicola, mortadella, provolone cheese, Romaine lettuce, tomatoes, onion, roasted peppers, Italian slaw, and oil  and vinegar  on fresh-baked Italian bread from a wood-fired oven.  It’s a magnificent Italian sub, and I say that with pride and authority, since an Italian sub may just be my favorite meal (and is definitely my favorite sandwich).The Italian slaw is no joke, adding a tangy, vinegary crunch to the sub.  More places should experiment with different kinds of cabbage slaw on sandwiches.

I had to get another #1 when we returned in 2024, and I asked for this one on a softer hoagie roll to try it a little different.  I actually preferred it this way, because my one minor complaint about Mazzaro’s sandwiches is that sometimes the bread is a little burnt on the outside (see above).

If you recognize our familiar plates from dozens of takeout reviews, it’s because I always order these sandwiches and bring them home with me, rather than do the two and a half hour drive on a full stomach.  I will enjoy them more in the comfort of my own home, and it gives the intense flavors time to marry and marinate.  Usually I bring a cooler when I know I’ll be stopping by Mazzaro’s.

And I can’t go to Mazzaro’s without also ordering a #7 for later.  This sandwich is both beauty and beast, with prosciutto di Parma, sweet soppressata, hot capicola, marinated sun-dried tomatoes (one of my favorite ingredients in sandwiches, salads, and sauces), and fresh mozzarella on a ciabatta roll.  Both the #1 and #7 sandwiches taste even better after a drive back to Orlando and a night in the fridge. 

Here’s my latest #7 from our most recent visit in July 2024.  The outside of the ciabatta roll was overdone, but the interior ingredients are so good, the sandwich couldn’t possibly be ruined.

I also brought home three different, interesting salumi, so we could have a little salami as a treat: a bison salami from Angel’s Salumi & Truffles (no truffles for us, though!), a venison, pork, and pinot noir salami from Driftless Provisions, and a “bonfire cider” salami from Short Creek Farms (which I don’t see on their website, so here are all the salami).

The one disappointment for me, even though it sounded like a can’t-miss delicacy, were these prosciutto “chips,” made in house by Mazzaro’s.  Prosciutto might be my favorite meat ever, and it is definitely one of the finest things you can make out of pork.  However, a major part of its appeal is getting it sliced paper-thin so it almost melts in your mouth, with a pleasant chewiness.  These crispy, crunchy strips lost that experience, although fans of crunchy bacon might like them more than I did.

I could have run amok a lot more on this most recent visit, but the relentlessly hangry crowds seriously stress out my poor wife.  I resolved to go without her next time, whether I’m coming or going from St. Pete, so I can linger longer without guilt and she can be spared the entire hectic experience.

As much as I appreciate the Italian markets in and around Orlando, there is nothing like a trip to Mazzaro’s, which is why I’ve been recommending it to St. Petersburg locals and tourists alike for years (and even recommending Orlando denizens consider it for a day trip, because it is that rad).  Heck, I wish I could pop over there right now, but I’m writing this on a Sunday evening, and it wouldn’t be open anyway.  For such a popular place, they have pretty limited hours, so review them in advance so you don’t schlep over there and end up disappointed:

Mon-Fri: 9am-5pm
Saturday: 9am-2:30pm
Sunday: Closed

And if you’re already a “Mazzaro’s Adult” (not quite the same as a Disney Adult, am I right?), let me know what your can’t-miss favorites are for my next visit, whenever that might be.

Cutting the Mustard III: Mustardy Agreement

Here we are again on Memorial Day weekend, a time to honor heroic fallen soldiers, when people often gather to have cookouts with loved ones over the long holiday weekend.  For Memorial Day in 2021 and 2022, I dropped my first two Cutting the Mustard features, when I reviewed a whole bunch of different mustards just in time for a lot of Americans to gorge on hot dogs and burgers, hopefully to give my dozens of readers some ideas to reach beyond the plain yellow stuff.

For my first Cutting the Mustard, I reviewed seven different mustards, and for my second mustardy mega-review, Cutting the Mustard II: The Quest for More Mustard, I reviewed ten mustards.  I didn’t get around to writing one of these last year, but I’ve tried a lot of mustards over the past two years, so now I’m reviewing and recommending more mustards than anyone ever thought possible… not that anyone has ever given these a thought anyway.

I always challenge myself to try each mustard with multiple applications — on sandwiches, burgers, and dogs, in dressings and marinades, and as a dip for fries, Gabila’s potato knishes, and Deutsche Kuche (pronounced “douche cooch”) soft pretzels from Aldi.  Certain mustards excel for certain uses, and it is rare to find a perfect all-purpose mustard.  But just like with root beers, chili, pasta salads, onion rings, pimento cheese, Italian subs, and tinned sardines (which I review in my ‘Dines List features), each brand, flavor, and style of mustard is a little different, and I find them all worth sampling and reviewing.

Here are just a few of the contenders, so let’s see which of these tangy condiments reach or surpass the desired standard or performance, or in other words, which ones cut the mustard! 

I found Bookbinder’s stone ground dijon mustard at Publix quite a while ago, although I haven’t seen it there in quite a while.  I admit to not being the biggest dijon fan in the world, but this was a lot more mellow and less spicy than the industry standard (especially in the hip hop community), Grey Poupon.  The main thing I do with dijon mustard is rub it on lamb chops before roasting them in the oven until they turn rare.  Bookbinder’s worked fine for this purpose.   

Publix seems to have stopped carrying the Mister Mustard brand too, but I picked up a jar of the hot kind while I could.  It definitely brought the heat.  Here I used it with a takeout Waffle House All-Star Special with eggs over hard, sausage, hash browns covered with melted American cheese, and white toast.  I love mustard on eggs, and I’m always willing to risk bringing home breakfast so I can apply mustards from my own collection. 

I have already proven my deep, undying, unironic love for Waffle House, so here’s another All-Star takeout breakfast (hopefully from a photo taken months apart), this time with Zatarain’s Creole mustard spread on the toast.  This was a terrific mustard, also found at Publix.  It was a lot like a typical spicy brown deli-style mustard (which is typically my favorite kind of mustard), with maybe a bit more “zing.” 

I make pretty epic breakfast sandwiches at home, and here is Braswell’s chipotle mustard on one of them.  I treat my breakfast sandwiches like grilled cheese sandwiches — I spread Duke’s mayo on the outside of the bread and then grill them in a hot pan, but I actually add an entire HEAD of chopped garlic directly to the mayo jar, so it always has garlicky flavor and a bit of texture too.  This particular sandwich looks like it had eggs, American cheese, sautéed onions, sliced tomato, and some of the tangy, smoky chipotle mustard, which I liked a lot.  It had a little bit of heat, but not a lot.  I love spicy food that has flavor, but I don’t like overpowering, sadistic heat that overwhelms and destroys other flavors.  This was a nice one, and I think I got it when it was on sale at Publix.

I tried these three mustards together for a taste test with one of the aforementioned Gabila’s knishes, which you can buy frozen at Publix and Winn-Dixie stores.  While some delis and bagel shops serve fresh-baked potato knishes, I like the onion-heavy, fried style from Gabila’s that some restaurants proudly serve for their consistency, taste, and unique shape.  The Publix Deli-Style mustard with horseradish is a real winner — a standard deli mustard that is cheap, but never disappoints.  Great on almost any kind of sandwich, hot dogs, and knishes, you just can’t go wrong.  I even like it more than Gulden’s spicy brown mustard!I picked up the Cracovia extra hot mustard at International Food Club, a sprawling, warehouse-like market that features a staggering selection of foods from all over the world, with a special focus on Europe and the Middle East.  It’s a fun and fascinating place to shop, and I always come home with a few new impulse buys.  Cracovia, a Polish brand, is one of the hotter mustards I’ve sampled, but I like it more than some of the others (like the hot Mister Mustard, for example).  I like it paired with ham, where the heat balances out the sweetness inherent in the cured meat.  It is like a slightly thicker yellow mustard with tiny flecks of green and red, but it lacks the overwhelming brightness so many everyday yellow mustards feature.

Finally, the Braswell’s Vidalia onion mustard sounded good, but I found it a bit too sweet and also kind of watery.  You can tell there was a lot of real, finely grated sweet onion in the mix, which I appreciate, and I love onions.  In fact, I buy sweet onions for almost all my cooking, even when recipes call for white, yellow, or red instead.  But this mustard lacked any savory bite and was just disappointingly sweet.

In my first Cutting the Mustard feature, I reviewed Sir Kensington’s Dijon mustard.  Since then, I really got into Sir Kensington’s spicy brown, which I like a lot more than the Dijon.  It has a mellow sweetness from maple syrup and cane sugar, but isn’t cloyingly sweet like a lot of other mustards I’ve tried here.

I swiped some onto a corned beef sandwich I made on what looks like a green chile bagel from Einstein Bros. Bagels.  It isn’t the best bagel shop and certainly not the most authentic, but I really love the green chile bagels just the same.  They are more like rolls than bagels.  With all the rich, salty ingredients, the slight sweetness of the maple-infused spicy brown Sir Kensington’s really brightened up this decadent sandwich. 

There is a time and a place for sweet mustards that incorporate honey or maple syrup, and honey mustard can be a wonderful salad dressing.  (The house salad with honey mustard is one of the only things I like at Outback Steakhouse, along with the Bloomin’ Onion and brown bread.)  But too many mustard companies take the sweetness way too far.

My best friend sent me a dazzling, delightful birthday present — a sampler of six Wisconsin-made mustards from the National Mustard Museum in Middleton, Wisconsin (a real place).  Most of them were awesome, but the thick, syrupy Bucky Badger honey mustard pretzel dip on the left was just too sweet for me, even spread on a soft pretzel.  But funny thing about this one — my wife, who does not share my mustard obsession, loves this one!  Maybe because it tastes like a dessert.

The Wisconsin gift set from the National Mustard Museum also included a Sprecher root beer mustard that was sweet, but not too sweet, with the delicious herbal flavors I love so much in root beer.  Unlike the Bucky Badger honey mustard dip, it was terrific on this pretzel.  However, I liked the root beer mustard best on roast beef sandwiches, and when I treat myself to roast beef, I get the Dietz & Watson London broil top round roast beef from the Winn-Dixie deli.  It is always really rare, with terrific seasoning.  I never roast my own beef, but maybe I should, so I can put more mustard on it.

I opened a bottle of Hickory Farms honey pineapple mustard to go with this roast beef sandwich, but it was also way too sweet, and yet it didn’t taste like pineapple at all.  However, the biggest surprise was that a Hickory Farms store still existed in 2022, even though it was seasonal like Spirit Halloween!

Terrapin Ridge Farms is a company based in Clearwater, Florida, that makes fancy, high-end condiments, sauces, dressings, dips, and preserves.  I tried their dill pickle mustard in my first Cutting the Mustard feature and thought it was just okay.  This time I tried their smokey maple bacon mustard and thought it was way too sweet and not smokey or bacony enough.  I waited patiently for these to go on sale before trying it, but I wouldn’t get it again.

I also tried Terrapin Ridge Farms’ Nashville hot spice mustard on some toasted pita bread and a fried pita chip here.  It was spicy, but didn’t really taste like mustard at all!  I experimented with it more on chicken, since I do love Nashville-style hot chicken, and it was just okay, but not great.  We are lucky to have a pair of amazing Nashville-inspired hot chicken restaurants in Orlando: Chicken Fire and JAM Hot Chicken.  I love them both and crave them often.  I’ve even attempted to make my own Nashville hot chicken at home, but it was labor-intensive and made a mess.  That’s something I leave to the professionals now, and I would also leave the Terrapin Ridge mustards on the shelf from now on.

Here are three more mustards that I tried with Aldi pretzel sticks.  The champagne mustard came from a HoneyBaked Ham store, where I love their spiral-sliced ham and smoked turkey breast.  They sell some pricey condiments, so I gambled on this one, but unfortunately lost.  It was kind of a creamy mustard and very dill-heavy, so I could never get into it.  It probably would have been great with salmon, but as much as I love salmon both raw and cured, I never cook it or order it cooked.  Anyway, I don’t even see the champagne mustard listed on the website anymore, so maybe it never caught on. The other two mustards came in the Wisconsin gift set from the National Mustard Museum.  The one in the middle was a sweet mustard, but one I actually liked: East Shore slow-cooked cranberry mustard, also made in Wisconsin.  While it was sweet (and extremely sticky and thick), I appreciated how the tartness of the cranberries gave it an extra dimension and kept it from being cloying like the previous sweet mustards that were too sweet.

Finally, Ringhand’s beer mustard, in the squeeze bottle, was my favorite from the National Mustard Museum gift set.  Made with brown beer, this creation of Wisconsin Democratic state senator Janis Ringhand was excellent on everything, from pretzels and knishes to ham, roast beef, and turkey sandwiches, hot dogs, burgers, and more.  It was salty, a little spicy, a little tart, and one of those rare mustards with endless uses.  I loved it, especially on some good dogs.

I found this Tracklements hot horseradish mustard in a little jar at Sprouts supermarket.  A little goes a long way, and it was great for clearing my sinuses, yet still not as nose-runningly, eye-tearingly hot as typical Chinese mustard or Colman’s mustard prepared from the powder.  It also went very well with ham.

I wish I could remember which takeout establishment included a packet of Woeber’s spicy brown mustard, but it was a pleasant surprise.  Sharp-eyed Saboscrivnerinos may remember I included two other Woeber’s mustards in Cutting the Mustard II: the hot & spicy and sweet & spicy varieties.  This one was more versatile and probably more of a crowd-pleaser than either of those — different enough from Gulden’s and the Publix brand that a mustard maven would want to try it on a deli sandwich or a dog.  I see Woeber’s products for sale in Orlando at Gordon Food Service (GFS) on East Colonial Drive and Clemons Produce on Curry Ford Road. 

Just like Waffle House, I have made no secret of my ridiculous love for White Castle, and I consider that review one of the best ones I’ve ever written.  On that first-ever trip to Orlando’s White Castle, I didn’t get to try their Dusseldorf mustard, but I made sure to request some packets on a more recent return trip, where I came home with another Crave Case of cheese sliders.  I had been unfamiliar with Dusseldorf mustard, but I’d have to describe it as “spicy brown mustard without a hint of anything spicy.”  It was fine, but without the zippy spice of Gulden’s or the bright tang of a standard yellow mustard, it didn’t stand out to me as anything special.  That slider sure tasted good, though!

Not one to give up easily, I bought a bottle of this Carnegie Deli branded Dusseldorf mustard at the Brooklyn Water Bagel Company, a chain bagel shop that I rarely go to, even though it isn’t bad.  They sell Carnegie Deli pastrami, which I haven’t tried there, even though my family and I went to the legendary Carnegie Deli on our one and only family trip to New York City back in the summer of 1991 (along with the Stage Deli, Lindy’s, and Grabstein’s in Brooklyn — all gone, but not forgotten).  Several Internet altacockers have told me that now, Carnegie Deli is just one more brand name, but the products aren’t anything like they were in the real deli during its glory decades.  It’s safe to say this Dusseldorf mustard was okay, but again, it lacked the zippiness of Ba-Tampte, Boar’s Head, or even Publix’s deli mustard.  In fact, “it’s safe” is the safest thing I can say about it.   Once again, the White Castle sliders slapped, with or without mustard.

I found Gold’s deli mustard for the first time ever at Doris Italian Market, a small chain of five awesome Italian grocery stores in South Florida, on a trip down in 2022.  It was similar to Ba-Tampte — a decent all-purpose deli mustard, more yellow than brown in color — but not as good as Ba-Tampte.  Few mustards are.  But it brightened up these kraut-covered hot dogs on grilled buns, and you can’t ask for much more than that.

I also found this Sabrett brand spicy brown mustard on the same trip to Doris Italian Market.  You can buy Sabrett brand hot dogs at every Publix in the state, but I had never seen the mustard before, and I had to try it.  It was kind of like they mixed Gulden’s (the industry standard spicy brown) with a yellow mustard, and somehow toned down the spice during the processing.  You can even see from the bottle that it is more yellow than brown, and you don’t even see the granulated mustard seeds in it.   It was fine on a slider and on some hot dogs, but I was surprised Sabrett’s mustard didn’t excite or excel as well as the brand’s beloved dogs.  I preferred Gold’s to the Sabrett.

Speaking of national hot dog brands and their own mustards, my dad asked me to find him Nathan’s Famous deli style mustard, which had disappeared from stores all over Florida, and apparently elsewhere too.  I did some research and found out it still existed, but the trademark had most likely been sold to a different company.  I tracked down a company that ships it, Pop Pop Foods, but you have to buy three bottles (still not bad for $2.99 each), and then they charge a flat shipping rate of $18.  I couldn’t justify it for myself, but I sent a care package to my dad down in Miami, with three bottles of the deli style and three bottles of the spicy brown mustard.  When I visited my parents at their house last summer, I saw they had an open bottle of the Nathan’s Famous deli style mustard in the fridge, and I begged to try a little on one of these little pinwheel sandwiches.  It was really good, just as I remembered.  Definitely better than the Sabrett mustard above.  I didn’t try the spicy brown, but I’m sure that was good too.  I still can’t bear to pay $36 for six bottles of two different kinds of mustard just for myself, but if anyone else would like to go in on an order with me, just say the word.  I would just want one deli style and one spicy brown, in case any of my constant readers in Orlando would also like to get some Nathan’s Famous mustard.

I have only ever found Plochman’s Intense Cuban Style mustard at Winn-Dixie too, but it is awesome, especially as a substitute for yellow mustard on Cuban sandwiches like this homemade version (which was probably prettier when I first assembled it, but this looks like I pulled it out of the fridge).  I baked the ham and marinated and roasted the pork loin myself, but the pickles were Grillo’s and the bread was from Winn-Dixie, same as the mustard.  It had a really nice, spicy zing and some flavor from garlic and citrus.  It was really good mixed with a bit of mayo as a seafood sauce, too.  It was different from the Sam’s Choice Cuban mustard I reviewed in my first Cutting the Mustard, and I give the edge to Plochman’s.

Here are two familiar faces with a Gabila’s knish and a new contender on the left: Silver Spring whole grain mustard, part of my gift set from the National Mustard Museum (since Silver Spring is a national brand made in Wisconsin).  I usually avoid whole grain mustard with the round, crunchy mustard seeds in it, but this was the best version I’ve tried of that kind of mustard.  Usually I don’t care for a condiment crunching between my teeth like a mouthful of Nerds candy, but it had a good flavor to counterbalance that texture. 
Plochman’s chili dog yellow mustard, the third one, is brown in color rather than yellow, but that accounts for all the spices added to it.  It’s uncanny how it tastes like a chili dog with mustard already on it!  The ingredients mention dehydrated onion, paprika, and turmeric (possibly for color), as well as the mysterious “spices.”  I definitely taste heavy cumin and garlic, and I’m guessing there is some ingredient that gives it a very slight smoky flavor too.  It is also really salty, even by mustard standards.  Like the Plochman’s Intense Cuban Style mustard, I bought it at Winn-Dixie, and I’m having a hard time using up the big bottle.

I’m sure these aren’t the only new mustards I’ve tried over the past two years, but I don’t have pictures of all of them.  In my travels, I tried the hot mustard at Philippe the Original, one of the oldest restaurants in Los Angeles, which claims to be the birthplace of the French dip sandwich.  I also found Sy Ginsberg’s deli mustard on the tables at the excellent Palm Avenue Deli in Sarasota, Florida — a tasty mustard I’ve never seen for sale anywhere or at any other restaurants.

I make no secret of my love of condiments and sauces, and I’m always searching for new mustards to buy and try, since each one holds its own unique promises.  I worry I’m starting to run out of mustard I can purchase locally in the Orlando area, so if you have some good local brands I haven’t mentioned in my three Cutting the Mustard features so far, please let me know.  And if any readers want to send me some mustards to review in future installments, my journalistic integrity isn’t strong enough to make me stop you.  I hope this was informational, or at least entertaining in some weird way.  If you find yourself enjoying some burgers or hot dogs with family or friends over the remaining Memorial Day weekend, I hope you consider trying a new mustard, and I hope you’ll let me know what it was and how you liked it.  And if not, why not?  Are you YELLOW?

Corelli’s Pantry (Clermont)

Whenever I travel out of my normal radius, I always check online to see if there are any interesting restaurants or grocery stores near where I’m going.  In that lackadaisical week between Christmas and New Year’s Day, when most people don’t get anything done, I took a long-overdue drive to Clermont, a town south and west of Orlando that I never have any reason to visit, to check out a restaurant I had been meaning to try for years.  And on my way to eat a solo lunch at that restaurant (more on that some other time), I took the scenic route through quaint, picturesque downtown Clermont and discovered another restaurant, an Italian restaurant with a small deli and market attached.  Of course, I had to stop in and get some stuff to bring home with me!

This Italian restaurant/deli/market I stumbled across was Corelli’s Pantry (https://corellispantry.com/).  It is a teeny-tiny space, although the dining room in the back might be more spacious.  When you enter, you order at the counter, whether you are planning to dine in or take things to go.  I wasn’t sticking around, but I should have stuck my head into the dining room to scope it out.  Sorry.

Up front, they had your typical glass deli cases full of cured meats and cheeses to slice and sell by the pound, some ready-made sandwiches and other prepared foods, and lots of Italian bread, cookies, and other baked goods.

I wasn’t in the market (no pun intended) for anything sweet, especially with the recent addition of D’Amico & Sons Italian Market & Bakery so close to home, but things definitely looked good here.  There were also some arancini (rice balls) in this particular refrigerated case.

Corelli’s Pantry serves pizza by the slice, which is my favorite way to order and eat pizza.  I had to get a slice to eat on the premises, which is the ideal way to gauge a pizzeria.  Don’t bring up that other Jewish guy who rants, raves, and rates slices of pizza — I’m aware, and I am not a fan.   But from my first taste, I definitely became fan of Corelli’s New York-style pizza.  This was a damn near perfect slice that I enjoyed back in the car: HUGE (the odd angle of this photo definitely doesn’t do its size justice), thin and crispy, not floppy, robust sauce, nice melty cheese, not dripping with orange oil, crust was neither too doughy nor too dry.  If I don’t mind eating the plain crust at the end, I consider it a very good slice, and this one was.

They also had half of a muffuletta sandwich in the display case, already assembled, with the ingredients all mingling and marinating.  I had not had a muffuletta anywhere in years, so I brought that home with me, planning to cut it in half and get two sandwiches out of it.  The wide, round, flat loaf of bread wasn’t as good as the legendary, flawless muffuletta served at Central Grocery in New Orleans, but I haven’t been there since 2001, and beggars can’t be choosers.  The bread was drier and more crumbly, but it held up well against the multiple layers of Genoa salami, ham, provolone cheese, and olive salad (made from some combination of green and black olives, carrots, celery, onions, roasted red peppers, herbs, spices, red wine vinegar, and olive oil).  I am not always the biggest fan of olives, but this Sicilian-inspired relish is what makes the muffuletta special and sets it apart from other Italian sandwiches.  You can also buy jars of it, including from Central Grocery itself, but it isn’t that hard to make at home.

Here’s a dynamic view of a quarter of that marvelous, mouthwatering muff.  It really hit the spot. 

I also ordered an Italian combination sub with ham, salami, capicola and provolone, topped “David’s way,” with house dressing, shredded lettuce, tomato and thin-sliced red onion, plus I asked for balsamic vinegar and hot cherry peppers.  I stuck it in a cooler I brought with me and enjoyed it hours later, after it had a chance to chill out in the fridge back at home.

The roll was great quality — most likely baked in-house at Corelli’s Pantry, but I did not confirm that.  They stuffed the sub generously with high-quality ingredients, just like that muffuletta.  It was a tremendously good (and just plain tremendous) Italian sub — one of the better ones I’ve enjoyed anywhere in Florida.  It was up there with the namesake Stasio sub from Stasio’s and the Capone from Bad As’s Sandwich, two all-time favorites.

With Stasio’s in Orlando’s Milk District, D’Amico & Sons in Oviedo, and Tornatore’s Italian market next door to its College Park restaurant (where you can also get a very nice Italian sub), I don’t know when I’ll ever make it back to Clermont to visit Corelli’s Pantry again, since it was over an hour away from home.  But I’m so glad I discovered it, almost accidentally, and even happier that I stopped there and tried so many things.  Nothing disappointed.  Everything exceeded my expectations.  If you are anywhere near downtown Clermont, or even if you aren’t, please stop there for a slice, a sandwich, or maybe even take a load off and enjoy some Italian food in the dining room, and then let me know how that was.

D’Amico & Sons Italian Market & Bakery

After a long wait (which probably felt much longer for the owners than people like me looking forward to the opening), D’Amico & Sons Italian Market & Bakery (https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100093695793933) has officially soft-opened in the Oviedo Mall.  Sometimes I go to the Regal movie theater in that mall, and it desperately needs something else to keep bringing people in.  I am pleased to report that D’amico & Sons should flourish there, if the enthusiastic crowds on the second day of its soft opening continue.   Its hours are 7 AM to 7 PM, Monday through Saturday, and 7 AM to 3 PM on Sunday.

I am thrilled to have another Italian market in town, especially one that is much closer to me than my beloved Stasio’s and Tornatore’s.  It is a much larger space than either, having completely refurbished the old Chamberlin’s health food store, bright and clean and spacious, with plenty of natural light and ample parking.  There is even a covered patio with tables under an Italian flag awning, for those who want to enjoy coffee, gelato, pastries, and sandwiches on the premises.

Like any good Italian market, you can order a variety of coffee drinks.  I am happy to see any locally owned and operated coffee shops to combat the Starbucks stranglehold.

There is a gelato counter too, although it was too crowded today to get a photo of it.  It looked like they might have twelve or 16 different flavors, and I’m sure my wife and I will work our way through them eventually.  Of course I like ice cream (who doesn’t?), but I like gelato even better.  I prefer the texture, the intensity of the flavors (especially fruity flavors), and somehow, it is even healthier (or less unhealthy, if you will).

When I arrived around 12:30 on its second day open, there was a long line just to get up to the bakery counter.  I managed to snap this shot of  beautiful macarons and pastries in a glass case, but there were other cases to behold on each side of it, with cakes to the left and cookies to the right:

Here is another vertical refrigerated case full of gorgeous gelato cakes: chocolate raspberry, triple chocolate, and pistachio.

I ended up bringing home two lobster tail pastries that were so flaky and crispy — the top one filled with rich Bavarian cream, and the bottom one filled with cannoli cream and tiny chocolate chips.  Below that are two zeppoli, fried pastries dusted in powdered sugar.  Those were my wife’s favorites.  

They also sell these Italian wedding cookies and black and white cookies, which I highly recommend.  I have bought this brand of black and white cookies before (Bakery Boys of New York), but I brought home the Italian wedding cookies because she loves those, and she was really happy with them.  I don’t think they sold individual Italian wedding cookies at the cookie counter, but one would not have been enough!

There are plenty of savory foods to choose from too, including golden-brown arancini, rice balls coated in bread crumbs and lightly fried, for a texture that is crispy-crunchy on the outside and soft and yielding inside.  If you’ve ever had a papa rellena from a Cuban cafe or bakery, these are similar, but with rice instead of mashed potatoes inside.  There are original, cheese, and cheesesteak arancini to tempt you.  D’Amico & Sons definitely have a lot of balls.

I brought an original rice ball home for my wife.  The thing is the size of a baseball!

A butcher case of fresh sausages was tempting, but I passed on this first visit.  I’ll definitely be back to try some.

They also offer pizzelles, which are pizza-like flatbreads, sold by the slice (and possibly also whole).  They looked great, but I treated myself to a pizza yesterday and still have leftovers.

You can also get sandwiches made to order, and I took great care to get a legible photo of the hanging menu, since it is not listed on the Facebook page yet.  Right-click this image and open it in a new tab for a larger, more legible photo.   
I was really surprised they don’t offer a traditional Italian sub with salami, ham, and other deli meats, plus the typical provolone cheese, veggies, and a vinaigrette, so I ordered what seemed like the closest approximation: the Italian Cubano, with Boar’s Head prosciutto Riserva, porchetta, Swiss cheese, pepperoncini peppers, tomato, deli mustard, and Boar’s Head Pepperhouse Gourmaise (a really good mayo-based condiment) on a sub roll.  It was ready pretty quickly, despite how slammed they were at the deli counter.

This is the Italian Cubano sandwich, unwrapped back at home.  I would have preferred the pepperoncini peppers to be sliced or chopped rather than whole, but at least they removed the stems.  The bread, prosciutto, and Pepperhouse Gourmaise really made this sandwich, but it was a little light on ingredients, and the bread was not fully sliced all the way across, so the ends didn’t have any of the good stuff on them.  I didn’t get a taste of the porchetta by itself, but at least I saw it in there.  I wonder if they would consider getting a sandwich press for more of a traditional Cubano experience.

I would absolutely try other sandwiches from here, even if they’re not going to dethrone Stasio’s (and my favorite sandwich in the city, the namesake Stasio) anytime soon.

There is a separate counter next to the gelato for ordering fresh-baked bread, and I wisely bought two different loaves to bring home.  The sub roll was great, but this sesame seed-studded semolina loaf was even better — warm and fluffy inside, crackly crust outside, and so wonderful when spread with some of our room-temperature butter back at home.

I also bought a pull-apart olive batard, which didn’t have a crunchy, crackly outer crust, but was also warm and fluffy and full of salty, chewy, pungent black olives, baked in.  I’m not the biggest olive guy in the world, but I like them as olive salad on a muffuletta sandwich, and I liked them in this bread.  My wife really loved this one, and olive her.

Over by the pizzelles, there is a refrigerated case brimming with different Italian cheeses, including ricotta, fresh mozzarella, and even some delicious-looking smoked cheeses.  I abstained this time, but I’m glad to know they have all this variety.

And since I am infamous for documenting my love of sardines with my ‘Dines List reviews, I could not leave without a can for this Cuoco brand Seasoning for Macaroni with Sardines.  I’ve made the Sicilian dish pasta con le sarde before, with fresh fennel, but I look forward to trying this ready-made combination of sardines, oil, fennel, onions, raisins, and salt the next time I cook up some high-quality imported pasta.  Of course I will review it in a future installment of The ‘Dines List!  Good for Kaley Cuoco for choosing to diversify, selling sardine seasoning while still performing the animated voice of Harley Quinn.  Beauty, talent, and business savvy!

While D’Amico & Sons does not have a full-service Italian restaurant next door like Tornatore’s (probably my favorite Italian restaurant in Orlando), and while the sandwiches may not be Stasio’s quality just yet (definitely my favorite sandwiches in Orlando), Central Florida’s newest and most spacious Italian market, bakery, cafe, and deli is already off to a terrific start, and Seminole County residents are lucky to have it.  I know I am.  I strongly encourage all my regular readers to make a pilgrimage out here ASAP and consider getting Christmas and New Year’s Eve goodies for any entertaining you have planned.  Heck, Hanukah celebrators should find a lot to love here too!

The ‘Dines List 3: Postcards from Portugal

It has been a long time since my last installment of The ‘Dines List, the recurring Saboscrivner feature where I review different tinned sardines and other tinned seafood.  Before you recoil in disgust or make that “Flehmen Response” face that is so funny when cats do it, I want to once again extol the virtues of the humble sardine.  These tiny fish are near the bottom of the food chain.  They are extraordinarily healthy, full of omega-3 fatty acids, no mercury like so much canned tuna, pure protein, and mostly environmentally sustainable, although I have been reading articles recently about sardines being the victim of overfishing, both in the Pacific Ocean and near the setting of this latest ‘Dines List.

Plus, now sardines are trendy “hot girl food,” so even though I am the furthest thing from a hot girl (not a girl, not hot unless you have a thing for bear types, and then the jury is probably still out), I am pleased that a thing I like is finally being appreciated and enjoying a moment in the cultural zeitgeist, just like how the last 20+ years of superhero movie mania has validated another one of my lifelong loves.  So now, on to the ‘dines!

Beautiful Portugal, the westernmost country in Europe, lies on the western coast of the Iberian peninsula, next door to Spain.  Historically, Portugal was responsible for a lot of seafaring, trading, and fishing, and to this day, fish and seafood are a major part of the typical Portuguese diet.  Only Japan and Iceland consume more fish per capita than Portugal!  Many of the locally caught sardines, tuna, and other fish are processed (tinned) and exported all around the world.

After my last ‘Dines List feature, where I reviewed sardines from Morocco, Portugal’s neighbor across the sea, I decided to do a round-up of all the Portuguese sardines I could find, to review them all and point out the good, the bad, and the stinky.

I discovered these Nuri spiced Portuguese sardines at Lotte Plaza Market, the fantastic and huge pan-Asian supermarket in West Orlando, a super-fun place for local foodies to shop and eat.  You can have a delicious meal at one of the many Asian restaurants in the food court and then stock up on groceries and snacks, but don’t forget the Nuri ‘dines!

These had a really nice heat from piri-piri peppers, and they also included carrot, cucumber, laurel(!), and clove in the seasoning.

Since I had never tried the Nuri sardines before, I ate them plain, but for some reason I plated them instead of devouring them straight out of the tin.  Note the single carrot slice, single pepper, and single cucumber slice, which was more like a thin pickle slice at this point.  I really liked these and would get them again.  They were surprisingly, pleasantly spicy!

I must have bought these Bela sardines a long time ago, maybe at Fresh Market.  This brand tends to cost more than other sardines, so I must have gotten the can on sale.  Unlike the Nuris above, these were lightly smoked, and the label makes clear they were packed in organic extra virgin olive oil.  Like the Nuris, they were also seasoned with piri-piri peppers, which is a delicious, piquant pepper that adds a nice kick to foods without being overwhelmingly hot. 

These Belas were much nicer-looking than most other tinned sardines, still retaining their iridescent silvery skin (which is perfectly tasty, don’t worry).  I typically avoid boneless, skinless ‘dines, because the bones give a nice, light crunch and are packed with calcium, and ‘dines with skin are more attractive and taste better, at least to me.

I made a Bela sandwich on a toasted bialy, with some sliced onion, fresh cilantro, Trader Joe’s piri-piri hot sauce (the orange sauce on the left), and crispy French-fried onions over the ‘dines themselves, with cream cheese beneath them.  Thankfully I’m still wearing a mask in public three years into the pandemic, which allowed me to eat a stanky sandwich like this with a clearer conscience.  It was delicious, though.  All the flavors went well with these beautiful Belas.

I believe I found these Bon Appetit Portuguese sardines at Green Hills Supermarket, a wonderful Eastern European grocery store in Altamonte Springs, Florida, which is heaven for tinned fish aficionados.  They stock all kinds of pickled herring, smoked Latvian sprats, and countless brands of tinned and bottled ‘dines from around the world, particularly European brands.  

After draining the “hot olive oil,” these weren’t that much to look at either, and to be completely frank, I barely remember them.  I think they had kind of a dry taste, like you could chew them forever and not much would happen (like too many people’s mamas’ pot roast).

I served the Bon Appetit sardines on homemade potato blinis, fancy little savory pancakes I learned how to make after first trying them at Bern’s Steak House in Tampa.  The blinis were definitely better than the ‘dinis.

I always see this Porthos brand at Fresh Market, usually priced higher than most supermarket ‘dines — maybe even $6 or $7 per can?  I know myself, and I know I would not have bought this unless it was on sale for $5 or under.  What I didn’t catch was that the ‘dines were packed in brine rather than some kind of oil, so caveat emptor.

Not very pretty, are they?  I would have expected more from the fancy-pants Porthos brand.  They were smellier than most canned ‘dines just because they were packed in brine rather than oil.  I grew up in a house where we ate canned tuna packed in water as a regular staple food, and I ate it throughout college and grad school, pretty much until I met my wife and the smell emanating from a can I opened made her throw up immediately, with no warning whatsoever.  I never bought canned tuna in water again, and while she might not share my love of canned sardines, the smell never nauseates her either.  But these were fishy and funky, and I wouldn’t buy this bougie brand again.  I probably mixed them with Duke’s mayonnaise and one of the many mustards in my collection to make sardine salad, a tribute to the tuna salad that sustained me through far too many bachelor pads and degrees.   

I think I found these Tome sardines at Enson Market, another Asian supermarket at 5132 W Colonial Dr, Orlando, FL 32808, maybe five minutes west of the aforementioned Lotte Plaza Market.

The picture on the box shows little sliced vegetables, including what looks like a pickle slice and maybe a red pepper.  I think these ‘dines had a bit of a sour, pickley note, but I must admit, I don’t recall the vegetables coming in the can.  I would have mashed these up into sardine salad with a dollop of mayo, and I chopped some Grillo’s Pickles into it (my favorite brand, from my Plethora of Pickles review).

The Tome sardines in spicy olive oil with chili were better, but still pretty standard.

They looked more appealing in the can with their shimmering silvery skin attached.

I recall these being good enough to eat straight up, after draining the oil (never down the drain, folks!).  

Trader Joe’s Wild Caught Sardines in Olive Oil with Smoke Flavor are a terrific value for Portuguese sardines, and surprisingly tasty on their own or in anything.  That little bit of smokiness helps immensely.

Like so many of the others, I ate these plain, straight out of the can after draining most of the oil, probably standing over the sink at home.  They definitely aren’t the prettiest ‘dines, but I would get them again. 

This is my most recent ‘dine discovery: the Angelo Parodi brand, which I found for the first time visiting Filippi’s Pizza Grotto in San Diego’s Italian Village, a wonderful old-school Italian-American restaurant attached to an equally old-school Italian grocery store.  You have to walk through the tiny market to get to the restaurant in the back, with red and white checkered tablecloths, candles melted into chianti bottles, the whole deal.  I had great pizza and a good Italian sub (which I should really get around to reviewing), but I couldn’t walk through an Italian market without bringing home some edible souvenirs, so I grabbed two tins of the Angelo Parodi ‘dines in olive oil with chili peppers.  Despite the brand name and the source, they are also products of Portugal, not Italy. 

I already drained the orange oil in this photo, but they looked beautiful — nice and meaty, silvery skin intact, packed tightly, definitely pleasing to the eye.

And here they are.  Thrill to my half-assed plating with some fresh, house-made Ceili chips (potato chips) from Fiddler’s Green, our favorite Irish pub in Winter Park, Florida.  Tonight I brought my wife home her favorite chicken tenders and the chips, but I knew I was having the Angelo Parodi ‘dines so I could finally finish this mega-review of Portuguese sardines.  They were surprisingly spicy, even drained of the oil, but very firm, meaty, and on the salty side, especially paired with the potato chips.  That was not the best choice — some crusty Italian bread would have been better, but crusty Italian bread would make almost anything better. As usual, the included chili peppers were sad sacks of seeds, not really worth trying to eat.   But even though I’ve never seen Angelo Parodi products for sale in Florida (not even at Mazzaro’s Italian Market in St. Petersburg or Doris Italian Market in South Florida, two wonderful places I desperately need to revisit and review), I would definitely get these sardines again.

Finally, this isn’t a can of sardines at all, but rather Cole’s smoked rainbow trout that happens to be from Portugal, so I’m including it.  My wife loves trout, and I often pan-fry pecan-crusted (fresh) trout filets for her.  She does not share my love of sardines, but this is one of the very few canned fish she will actually eat.  It is absolutely freakin’ delicious, and I include it here to go along with the Portuguese theme, and to for the sardine skeptics who might be open to other tinned treats.  If any canned fish is going to win over the masses, this is the one. 

While the canned rainbow trout filet doesn’t look like much, it flakes apart beautifully, and it is tender and moist and lightly smoky, and not “fishy” at all.  Here is the before pic:

And the after pic is below.  I enjoyed this tin with a Gabila’s frozen potato  knish, thawed in the microwave and then heated until crispy in the toaster oven.  I usually use these frozen Gabila’s knishes as mustard delivery devices, as in my last Cutting the Mustard mega-review, where I went into more detail on the brand and its storied history.  But the knish went so well with the smoky, flaky, oily, rich trout, I refrained from adding mustard or any other condiments.  It didn’t need them.  Trout, trout, let it all out, this is the fish I can’t do without!

I worry now about the reports of the entire Portuguese sardine fishing industry being in danger, because they are such a major part of the Portuguese diet, as well as the national economy.  I always thought eating sardines was morally superior to consuming larger fish that are higher up in the food chain, but now it sounds like we all need to get used to cutting back.  The Monterey Bay Aquarium’s SeafoodWatch website even says Moroccan-caught sardines are a good alternative, but it is better to avoid Portuguese-caught sardines.  Of course, I started writing this ‘Dines List column well almost two years ago, and I fully admit I had no idea when I started.  I strive to sustain a sundry sardine stash at the Sabo-Shelter, but once I eat my way through those, I want to be part of the solution, not part of the problem.

Chain Reactions: Eataly (Chicago)

Eataly (https://www.eataly.com/) is like heaven for foodies: a massive Italian food store that contains several restaurants, from sit-down pastarias to wine bars to counter-service bakeries to grab-and-go snack shops.  As a result, it is kind of like a massive food hall, with so much to see and do, smell and taste, experience and indulge.  But most of all, Eataly feels like a temple to Italian food — truly a place of worship — and well worth a pilgrimage at least once.  There are ten Eataly stores in Italy (the first one opened in Torino in 2007), nine in North America, and eight elsewhere in the world.   I don’t know how different they all are, since I’ve only been to the Chicago Eataly (https://www.eataly.com/us_en/stores/chicago/) — first with my wife in 2014, and again on a recent business trip to Chicago.  I had to venture back there, to make sure that first visit wasn’t just a wonderful dream, but the kind of place where dreams come true.

It had been so long since my first visit, I had to explore everything in the store before deciding on my first bit of food.  I made my way to the second floor to a familiar kiosk that beckoned: the land of cured meats and cheeses.  I felt like a weary traveler who had finally made it to my destination, yet also feeling like I was home. 

Since I was just staying in Chicago for two nights, I couldn’t buy anything fresh or perishable or requiring cooking, but I’m sure some fancy Chicago locals bypass the local supermarkets and buy all their meats at this gleaming butcher’s counter.  You can’t see the price labels in this photo, but take it from me: if you have to ask, you probably can’t afford it.

Here’s a shot of huge tomahawk ribeye steaks, slowly dry-aging to perfection in a clear refrigerated case: 

The seafood counter was equally sumptuous.  On my first visit to Eataly back in 2014, I made an indulgent purchase of bottarga here: the salted, cured, pressed, and dried roe sac of a fish (usually gray mullet, but sometimes tuna).  I had read about bottarga before, and it sounded irresistible to me, as a connoisseur of the cured, a scholar of the smoked, and a professor of the pickled.  So many cultures created their own versions of this delicacy, and I’ve still never found it in Florida.  The bottarga I bought at Eataly made it back in my luggage without any problems, and it lasted months in the fridge, as I finely grated it over so many pasta dishes.  It added a salty, savory, umami flavor to everything, and pretty much melted in my mouth.  If that sounds good and not gross, I highly recommend it.

But all this browsing made me hungry, so I returned to the restaurant my wife and I dined at on our original trip to Eataly here in Chicago: the creatively named La Pizza & La Pasta.  You can’t go to a restaurant like this and not know what you’re getting!  They take reservations, but I arrived relatively late in the day, after a long training workshop and an architectural boat tour down the Chicago River, so I had my choice of seats and opted for a solitary barstool, far from any other diners.

The kind server brought out this wonderfully fresh, crusty bread with olive oil that was much sweeter and more flavorful than the kind I keep at home that regularly goes on sale at Publix.  I’m not sure if every party gets “table bread,” or if it came with the dish I ordered, but if you’re visiting Eataly, hopefully you’re not obsessed with counting carbs, so you should definitely take advantage and enjoy this brilliant bread.   

As a solo diner, I knew I couldn’t justify ordering two entrees, so it was difficult for me to choose.  My server helped me break a tie, so I went with a fresh pasta dish, tagliatelle alla Bolognese ($24), topped with real-deal parmigiano Reggiano, not the shaky-can stuff I’ve bought my entire life.   The fresh tagliatelle pasta was kind of eggy (not in a bad way, just not exactly what I expected), but the savory Bolognese sauce was awesome, with plenty of chunks of meat.  I get that this was a pretty basic choice, and I make “pasta and meat sauce” quite often at home, but it is real comfort food for me, and I wanted to see how Eataly’s kitchen would present such a timeless classic.  They knocked it out of the park, needless to say.

As an aside, here’s a photo I found of the dish I ordered here back in 2014, in those pre-Saboscrivner days: my favorite pasta dish anywhere, bucatini all’amatriciana ($21).  This thick bucatini pasta (long, hollow tubes) was not fresh like the tagliatelle I had just tried, but there’s nothing wrong with good quality dried pasta.  I think I prefer it, in fact.  All’amatriciana is served in a spicy tomato sauce with guanciale (cured pork jowl), and this version from La Pizza & La Pasta was perfect in every way, even better than the tagliatelle from this most recent visit.
I make pasta all’amatriciana at home as a treat once or twice a year, but since guanciale is hard to find, I usually substitute cubed pancetta, which you can find at Trader Joe’s, Publix, and even Aldi sometimes.  If you’re not into bucatini, pretty much any other pasta works well, except for weirdo choices like tri-color wagon wheels.  What is the deal with those, anyway?

After dinner, I wandered around the store a little more and gazed at beautiful Roman-style pizzas on display at the Pizza alla Pala kiosk.  I was tempted, but I had just eaten dinner, and I knew they wouldn’t be that great eaten cold in my hotel room the next morning.

But I saw these gorgeous foccaci farcita sandwiches, with cured speck ham, provolone, and arugula on fresh focaccia bread, and I thought “One of those would be awe-inspiring eaten cold in my hotel room the next morning!”  Maybe because I got to Eataly relatively late in the day, they charged me a much lower price for the to-go sandwich than what you see pictured, more like the price of an individual slice of pizza.   

Here’s an extreme close-up of the lovely sandwich.  Speck is very similar to prosciutto.  I could tell they brushed some olive oil on the bread, but I thought a tangy vinaigrette of some kind would have really put it over the top.  (But I think about that with most sandwiches.)

And to go with my beautiful Italian breakfast, I found an Italian brand of potato chips, San Carlo la Vita e Buona, with a flavor that was too interesting to turn down: mint and chili pepper!  If I recall, this bag was under $3.  Since I love trying new potato chip flavors and reviewing them in this very blog, I felt obligated.  I did it for YOU, stalwart Saboscrivnerinos!

San Carlo was a bit stingy with the flavoring, a marked contrast against many American chip manufacturers that really cake it on there, but they tasted very fresh and potatoey, and the mint subtly shined through.  They were barely spicy at all. 

I also brought home a salami from the cured meat counter that sounded amazing (elk, pork, and dried blueberries?!), but it wasn’t worth the price I paid.  I would have loved to try so many more things at Eataly, but again, I was limited by what I could safely store in my hotel room and bring back in a carry-on bag, with TSA’s continuing rules banning liquids.  That said, if you ever find yourself in a city grand and lucky enough to have its own Eataly location, I implore you to make that pilgrimage and try it for yourself.  You will be tempted by all sorts of treasures, and it is just a pleasure to wander around and explore, treat yourself in one of the many restaurants, and bring back mouthwatering mementos, succulent souvenirs, and tasty trophies from your travels.

 

Mr. Dunderbak’s (Tampa)

A few of my closest friends live in Tampa, and many years ago, one of them introduced me to a terrific German restaurant near his home called Mr. Dunderbak’s (https://dunderbaksbeer.wordpress.com/).  There used to be multiple locations, many of which were in malls, but this location moved out of Tampa’s University Mall and into its current location near the University of South Florida a long time ago, long before I discovered it.  There is also a completely separate, unaffiliated restaurant of the same name in Daytona Beach, with its own website and menu, but I’ve never been there.  The Tampa location, however, is near and dear to my heart.

I’ve ended up there a few times, visiting these dear friends from high school who had families and escaped Miami, just as I did, only they ended up in Tampa instead of Orlando.  On past visits, I would order a variety of wursts (sausages) and apply a variety of different mustards to them.  Mr. Dunderbak’s sells a variety of German groceries, including mustards, and I could never leave empty-handed.  The dining room is a bit crowded, and it’s dark inside, which I love.  Even though there are shelves of groceries, racks of candy, a full deli counter, a busy and bustling bar, and lots of tuba-heavy German music being piped in, it feels like an intimate experience.

At some point along the way, I brought my wife to Mr. Dunderbak’s, and she fell in love with the food and atmosphere too, as I knew she would.  We were lucky enough to return for two lunches earlier this summer, just the two of us — once on our way back from a quick getaway to St. Pete Beach, and again on our way to a concert in Tampa.  We had the same server both times, the lovely and patient Victoria, who made us feel like welcome regulars, even though these had been our first visits in far too many years.  She is the greatest!

Mr. Dunderbak’s serves the best pork rinds ever ($4.99 for this very generous portion).  They are so light and crispy, not like some others that are hard enough to break your teeth or your jaw crunching into them.  They aren’t greasy or overly salty, and they are covered with a light glaze of honey, making them sticky and sweet and salty all at the same time.  They are a delicious appetizer and snack, and the leftovers stayed crispy after we drove home from Tampa.

Of course I couldn’t resist trying Mr. Dunderbak’s onion rings ($8.99 for this huge portion) for the first time ever.  RING THE ALARM!  (That’s how I celebrate reviewing any onion rings, which I do whenever and wherever I find them on a menu.)  These were beer-battered, golden brown, lightly crispy, not greasy, not too crunchy, not too soft, not falling apart.  They were just right — my favorite kind of onion rings anywhere. 

I took a risk and chose the paprikasch pork gulasch ($13.99), even though it was a hot June day — less than ideal for a rich, meaty, spicy, tomato-based stew thick with pork, carrots, tomatoes, and twisty egg noodles.  I normally enjoy goulash in all of its forms, and even though it was tasty, I would have been better off with something a little less heavy and hearty in the thick of a Tampa summer. 

My gulasch came with two sides, so I got what I’ve had at my handful of previous visits to Mr. Dunderbak’s: both kinds of potato salad, since I’m such a mark for potato salad.  The one on the left is the German potato salad, served warm, in a sweet, thick, vinegary sauce.  The one on the right is a cold potato salad, also a bit sweet from vinegar, and served with crumbled bacon. 

My wife ordered a pork wiener schnitzel ($13.99) — a pork cutlet pounded flat, breaded with cracker crumbs, and deep-fried until crispy.  You may notice a trend developing, but I am pleased to say it wasn’t greasy at all, not overly crunchy, the breading stayed on, and the meat inside was tender, juicy, and flavorful. 

Her schnitzel came with two sides, so she chose spaetzle (the most delicious little dumplings made from semolina flour and egg, sautéed in lots of butter), and homemade applesauce.  She loved both of these.

In fact, my wife loved all of this food so much, she ordered the same thing when we passed through again, a week later.

As for me, I had to try something different on our second visit, when we were lucky enough to have Victoria as our server again.  She even recognized us, and she helped me choose my next lunch: kassler rippchen ($19.99), two thin pork chops that were brined, cured, smoked, and served in an apricot, brown sugar, and Riesling reduction sauce.  They were outstanding.  I’ll rarely seek out pork chops on a menu or make them at home, but these were next-level delicious.  They were more like really good ham than any pork chops I’ve had before, due to the preparation method.  I loved them! 

In addition to a little round pretzel roll, this time I broke my pattern and ordered two different, slightly lighter and healthier sides: vinegary cucumber and dill salat (so perfect to cut the richness of the pork chops, and also crunchy, cool, tangy, and sweet), and a wonderful wilted spinach salat with shaved gruyere cheese and warm sweet and sour bacon dressing.  I shared both of these sides with my wife, and this one inspired her to start making spinach salads for herself at home, it was that good.

Since we were on our way to check into a hotel room in Ybor City before an evening concert, I wanted to get something to eat in our room so we wouldn’t have to schlep out into the night after the show.  My wife had plenty of leftovers, but I ordered a sandwich that I knew would travel well: Dunderbak’s French Connection sub ($11.99), with Genoa salami, smoked German Westphalian ham, German bologna, garlic chive cream cheese spread, Swiss cheese, lettuce, and tomato on a sub roll.  It was really good, but I should have asked Victoria to have them apply one of their many mustards to it to spice it up.  It was a good sub, and it came with a dill pickle spear and some Ruffles-style ridged potato chips, but I could have probably picked something more unique.  That said, I wanted something I could easily eat in a hotel room at night when I was tired, that didn’t require heating up in case we didn’t have a microwave oven.  

And this is the vaguely automobile-shaped thick slice of apple strudel ($8.99) we brought to our hotel room in Tampa.  The crust was very delicate, almost like a pie crust but softer and not as rich or flaky.  The strudel was heavily spiced with cinnamon, and it also contained raisins and walnuts.  I just had the tiniest taste, but my wife really enjoyed it.  She also had me buy a lot of candy, including some marzipan and Haribo gummies.

So that’s Mr. Dunderbak’s.  It’s somewhat off the beaten path for those traveling to Tampa, nestled in the New Tampa suburbs close to USF, and not exactly close to the more hip, happening, and tourist-friendly parts of town.  But if you like German food (including Sanford’s beloved Hollerbach’s, which we are also big fans of), you have to try Mr. Dunderbak’s too.  Next time, I’m sure I’ll go with my Tampa friends again, but these two lunches with my wife felt like romantic getaways, even with all the “oom-pah” march music in the background.

Chain Reactions: Buc-ee’s

We were somewhere around DeLand on the edge of I-4 East when the Beaver Nuggets began to take hold.  Luckily, Doctor Professor Ma’am and I didn’t encounter any bats on our drive to or from Daytona Beach, but we shared a truly exhausting, truly American experience at Buc-ee’s (https://buc-ees.com/), the colossal convenience store just off I-95, a unique shopping experience as vast, overwhelming, and occasionally maddening as its home state of Texas.

Imagine Wawa, Cracker Barrel, and Walmart Supercenter twisted into a sweaty, throbbing throuple, and that comes close, but still doesn’t quite capture the sensory overload of Buc-ee’s.  I counted 43 locations on the website, but there are only two in Florida, both new: off the highway in Daytona Beach and St. Augustine.  We didn’t even bother to fill up the car with gas there, given the surprising crowd at lunchtime on a Friday.  Instead, we hustled inside to see what food and snacks awaited us in the sprawling superstore.

They say everything is bigger in Texas: the deserts, the hats, the trucks, the cattle, the churches, the guns, the belt buckles, and unfortunately the intolerance (see recent news for far too many examples).  Well, Buc-ee’s goes big in every way as well.  Once we made our way through sections of the store devoted to kitschy casual clothing, folksy home décor, and touristy novelties (the “schlock and awe” department), we made it to the the real draws: stacks and stacks of snacks and snacks.

Here is the wall of jerky, which is the kind of wall Texas should focus on building.  There is also a jerky counter, where you can get any of the jerky varieties you want, by the pound.  It was easier and faster to grab bags off the wall for $7.99 each.   

I chose cherry maple, Bohemian garlic, and sweet and spicy beef jerky.  So far, the cherry maple was disappointingly bland, but the Bohemian garlic was packed with strong, garlicky flavor.

Doctor Professor Ma’am is more of a fan of gummy candy, and she was faced with overwhelming options, here at the wall of gummies. 

She went with hot cinnamon gummy bears (I think that smell, taste, and texture are all gross, but more for her!) and chamoy-flavored peach rings, pictured below with three different flavors of Rice Krispy Treats she chose (regular, salted caramel, and “Fruity”), plus fried pecans.

I’m not really into nuts.  I just buy them for her, and I almost never snack on them myself.  But when we busted into these fried pecans back at home, all I could say was “GOOD LORD.”  Even with the hell-squirrel armed with a sharp fork on the bag, “GOOD LORD” is the appropriate response.  I couldn’t believe how good they were.  At $14.99, that was the most expensive single item we bought, but it is a good-sized bag, and they are so rich, they should last quite a while.

As an unabashed fan and collector of condiments, sauces, and preserves, Buc-ee’s had a staggering selection to tease, tantalize, and tempt me.

I went a little mad, but we all go a little mad sometimes.  I couldn’t resist (I’m your) huckleberry and blackberry preserves, peach-chipotle and mango-pineapple-habanero salsas, prickly pear cactus jam, candied jalapeños, sweet and spicy ghost pepper hot sauce, and pickled quail eggs!

I fully admit I haven’t tried most of these yet, since our fridge door has only so much space (and it is already stuffed with interesting things in bottles and jars, as one would expect from me).  But I did just bust open the pickled quail eggs, after letting the jar chill in the fridge overnight, and I liked it a lot!  Very spicy and tangy from the vinegary brine, which includes garlic and jalapeños.  “What, you egg?”  [I stabbed it.]

It was even hard to choose a soft drink, with dozens of options.  This is only one of the three huge soda fountain setups.  I grabbed an extra-large cup, avoided anything I could find elsewhere, and sampled sips of the Buc-ee’s-specific flavors.  Favorites included pineapple cream soda, piña colada soda, orange Creamsicle soda, sarsaparilla, strawberry lemonade (non-carbonated), and my big winner, the cream soda on the far right, which I ultimately filled our shared cup with for the schlep home.  Doctor Professor Ma’am said it tasted like pecan pie filling as a soda, and she wasn’t wrong.  It was too sweet to be refreshing, but a very tasty cream soda nonetheless.  We also tried the blue cream soda, which I thought tasted like banana-flavored candy.  She liked it until the chemically aftertaste hit.   We both really wished some of those sodas were sold in bottles or cans, since we would have definitely bought a few different ones to savor later, but alas, they were fountain drinks only.

There were multiple stations to get hot, fresh food, including a station with barbecue sandwiches already wrapped in foil.  I grabbed us a pulled pork sandwich that was delicious.  Doctor Professor Ma’am was tired and hungry by this point, so we split it in the car in the parking lot on the way out to keep hungry from approaching hangry.  Forgive my freestyling, but we savagely ravaged this sandwich, and its richness fixed us from being sad bitches.  The barbecue sauce was sweet, but it didn’t overwhelm the smoky savoriness of the pork. 

There were also touch-screen kiosks for ordering other food, including tacos, burritos, chicken fingers, and a few other sandwiches that get freshly assembled.  I was really hoping to get a pastrami Reuben on a pretzel roll, which came highly recommended, but they weren’t available!  I was so disappointed, which is a quintessentially American take, to bemoan the loss of one option in this land of abundance.  So I chose a “Chopping Block” sandwich that came with sliced rare roast beef, horseradish, Swiss cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, red onions, and I asked to add jalapeños for a 50-cent upcharge.  We had to wait a while for that one, since the sandwich-makers were slammed due to 20 busy touchscreen kiosks all beaming in constant orders, but it was worth the wait.  The roast beef was tender, flavorful, and rare, the way I like it, the hoagie roll was nice and soft, and the sandwich was still warm by the time I got it home.   To the right is a chopped brisket sandwich that was also really good — pre-wrapped in foil like the pulled pork sandwich, and mixed up with sweet sauce.  I liked it even better than the pulled pork.

She was disappointed by the fresh potato chips, but I thought they were fine.  Just plain, crispy, salty, slightly greasy chips, as expected.

A fried apple pie was yet another impulse buy.  She enjoyed it in the car (eating it over the open bag to catch the cinnamon sugar cascade), and the one bite I took was really good.  The flaky fried crust was terrific.  We hoped it would be like the bubbly, crackly McDonald’s fried apple pies of our ’80s childhoods, but it turned out to be so much better than those.

Here’s half of the brisket sandwich I saved for Doctor Professor Ma’am back at home, along with a cream cheese kolache (left), a strawberry cheese kolache (right), and a sausage, cheese, and jalapeño kolache (bottom).  Kolaches are pastries that Czech immigrants brought to Texas.  There are sweet and savory varieties, and as you can see, the sweet ones look a lot like danishes.  The sausage inside that bottom one was hot dog-shaped, but much chewier, like a Slim Jim.  It was okay.  The pastry itself is just like chewy white bread.   
I also got a boudin kolache that looked almost exactly like the one on the bottom in this photo, stuffed with the savory Cajun pork-and-rice sausage, but that one didn’t last long enough to get photographed.

They had a fudge counter with nearly 20 different varieties of fudge, all neatly divided into squares.  You could buy any combination of four and get two more free, so how could we refuse?  My wife chose the different fudge flavors, and there is a chocolate one for sure, a chocolate pecan, a “gooey pecan,” a “tiger butter” in the top left (vanilla, chocolate, and peanut butter), and a blueberry cheesecake fudge (bottom left).  The sweet fudge lady would cut off little sample slivers, and I sampled key lime pie and banana pudding fudge.  Both were good, but too rich to get entire slices of, on top of everything else.  She warned me I might not like the banana pudding fudge, but I sure showed her!

Anyway, these are ridiculously rich, so I know we will make them last.  We might even freeze some, forget about them for a while, and then have a pleasant surprise when we rediscover them days or probably weeks later.

The very first thing that tempted Doctor Professor Ma’am was a box of six pecan pralines.  I suggested we do one loop around the store first to get the lay of the land before we start grabbing everything, and that’s when she found individual pecan pralines at the fudge counter.  She was thrilled to be able to just get one, rather than a six-pack, with all the other stuff we chose.  I broke off one little morsel, and it was almost cloyingly sweet and  intensely rich.

Since I regularly review chips in my series of Tight Chips features here on The Saboscrivner, I couldn’t resist grabbing a few small bags of classic, barbecue, and hot Buc-ee’s chips.  I don’t know how they’ll be, but I got ’em.   
A sample guy was giving out samples of the barbecue-flavored Baked Chees-ee Curls, the Buc-ee’s version of Cheetos, and they were good enough to bring home a small bag.  I’m surprised Frito-Lay hasn’t come out with a barbecue Cheetos flavor, in all these decades.

And we couldn’t go all the way to Buc-ee’s without grabbing a bag of Beaver Nuggets, one of the most famous (infamous?) and recommended snacks from fellow travelers.  These things are unbelievably good.  Crunchy, toffee-sweet, buttery, salty.  Imagine Corn Pops cereal, but a million times better in every possible way.  Neither of us had ever tried them before, but I figured she would love them, and I was right.  As for me, I can eat a whole bag of chips standing up in my kitchen without even thinking about what I’m doing, but the Beaver Nuggets are so much richer, heavier, and more substantial than chips, I was perfectly content after just crunching on a few of them. 
The Buc-ee’s Nug-ees on the right are a “Bold ‘n’ Spicy” version of the sweet, crunchy Beaver Nuggets.  Their texture is softer, though — more like puffy Cheez Doodles that you can easily crush between your tongue and the roof of your mouth.  They are well-dusted with spicy, cheesy orange powder that is spicier than regular Cheetos or Cheez Doodles, but much less spicy than Flamin’ Hot Cheetos.  I can only imagine combining the two varieties in a bowl as some kind of decadent snack mix.

Finally, I grabbed two large boudain [sp] sausage links from a freezer case, and I got the small package of sliced smoked venison sausage at the jerky counter.  Those were $5 and $4.40 respectively — cheaper than I expected.  I haven’t tried them yet, but my hopes are high.

Our first trip to Buc-ee’s was both physically and mentally draining.  It is a lot to process, and if you arrive hungry and like to try new foods and snacks, you can get yourself in a bit of trouble there, as we did.  But it’s such an overwhelming experience, somewhere between the food halls in cosmopolitan cities like Philadelphia or Seattle and a Southern Walmart on Black Friday.  I suspect that if we ever return, the novelty and mystery will have worn off, so we can quickly grab a few favorites and rush out, without feeling the need to see and try everything, like we did this time.  Trader Joe’s definitely feels like that now, after breaking the bank on my first-ever visit so many years ago, but now just running in and out for a few staples while dodging the mobs.  Novelty fades.  Newness wears off.  That’s why I constantly seek it out and share it here, with YOU.

But beyond the novelty of new sandwiches, snacks, and sodas, Buc-ee’s also felt like the kind of roadside attractions that used to line America’s highways and byways — bemusement parks that drew cross-sections of society away from their homes and out of their cars, those in-between places that made the journey so much more interesting (and often weirder) than the destination, before every highway exit started to feature the same corporate fast food restaurants and chain stores.

Being in a new job in academia where I no longer work directly with our diverse student body, and generally avoiding crowds and social situations for the past two years, this was the most people I had been around in a while — and such people!  There were exhausted families, bored teenagers, leather-clad bikers, swaggering cowboy types, beachgoers, retirees, active-duty military men and women in uniform, actual Goths (in broad daylight, in Daytona Beach!), a guy who looked like Gung-Ho from G.I. Joe, and so many tattoos, with a particularly large amount of spider webs on elbows.  The two of us only noticed one guy in an overtly political T-shirt, and we seemed to be the only two people still wearing masks.  Stefon would have had a field day.  But everyone was passing through Buc-ee’s on their way somewhere, fueling themselves up before or after they fueled up their cars, or stopping to use the gleaming, spotless restrooms (which are indeed glorious, living up to all the hype).

I wondered where that sea of sweaty people was off to, and how many had made the pilgrimage to Buc-ee’s as their ultimate destination, as we had, rather than just a rest stop along the way to someplace else.  Well, stalwart Saboscrivnerinos, I can tell you that Buc-ee’s is definitely worth a stop — at least once — but don’t expect to get any rest there.