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Restaurant review

Old standbys are new must-tries

Rusty Bellies, a new entry on the Sponge Docks, serves up seafood fresh from its own boats and gives each morsel its own flair.

By CHRIS SHERMAN
Published January 26, 2006

	[Times photo: Ted McLaren]
	If you’re trying to avoid the fried delicacies, try Rusty Bellies’ Pot Belly, a bucket filled with steamed shrimp, oysters, clams, mussels, snow crab, corn and potatoes. Beyond the restaurant’s deck, working fishing and shrimp boats await supplies before heading out to the Gulf of Mexico.

TARPON SPRINGS - Not much can be done to improve peel-and-eat shrimp, yet Rusty Bellies finds a way. The new restaurant perched on the unpretty working end of the Sponge Docks adds a little cleverness, tossing them with olive oil and a few herbs, more Greek than Old Bay.

It's not quite butter poaching a lobster, but the oil keeps the shrimp from getting soggy. More adventurous than the average fish house.

And what shrimp they are, which is the more important and difficult element: perfectly cooked and perfectly portioned, a dozen or so in a half-order, fresh, clean and at least two-bites big. The way Rusty Bellies achieves this is that the family that owns the restaurant also has its own shrimp boat (and grouper boat, plus a crabber in the works).

And they built it. The Julie Ann, tied up to the pier outside, is as modern as anything in the harbor and clean as a hospital ship.

The Russells aren't century-old Tarpon Springs, but they have experience on the docks, where they run a boatyard and, most important, Pelican Point Seafood, a big ice-filled fish market that sells the real thing, local catch from scamp to octopus.

They are people who know fishing and fish and prefer wild caught from the Gulf. (The rusty bellie, by the way, is a hefty male gag grouper, weighing 20 pounds and up.)

Sparkling fresh seafood is the key ingredient in the Russells' new venture. Yet their recipe combines sushi-fresh fish with cooking that's more sophisticated than required: spicy modern herb sauces and heartwarming hush puppies and country sides.

Sandwiches may be updated as paninis, burgers served on rye, while artichoke dip gets a local accent of feta and the flash of blue corn chips; conch fritters dunk in key lime mustard; grilled fish can be punchy with tomato dill sauce; hefty crab cakes get a cilantro and lime sauce.

The heart of any Pinellas seafooder is fried, and Rusty Bellies does it up golden. And silver, as in silver mullet, the smaller, more delicate member of the family, which fries up delectably in corn meal. I'd like to see more local species from the market show up on the specials board.

The fryers also get credit for those hush puppies. You can't have just one, but do try to stop at two. They are a touch on the sweet side (my dream pups have a bite of onion and orange fleck of carrot), but oh my.

Sides include black beans and rice and saffron rice as a tip of the hat to Tampa, but how can you pass up a chance at thick cheese grits or sweet corn casserole?

Or onion straws, a wicked indulgence and done remarkably crisp, you can almost pretend that they're light.

If you pass up the the rest of the fried inventory - oyster bellies on Friday nights or softshell crabs - you can follow your conscience to the steamer pots, grilled fish or seafood in tomato sauce.

Or not. Shrimp and bow-tie pasta melded with sundried tomatoes and artichoke hearts in a creamy sauce is contemporary and every bit as wicked as anything fried. Just thinking about the cheese grits with shrimp and bacon filled me up.

All this is not aw-shucks home cookin'. Some of it is old-fashioned, but it gets chefly care and imagination in the kitchen. There's thoughtful detail throughout. The place is spotless inside and out, rare for the docks, and the memorabilia isn't the same ol' stuffed fish and naut-y knickknackery, but metal signs for marine paints and hardware. And though the wine selection's puny (several brands of red, white and pink), the beer selection is smart enough to include good Belgians and local Dunedin brews.

I should point out kitchen service is slower than most fast fryers, but I conclude it's not a bad thing. I read it as a sign of care and food worth the wait.

That was seconded by a patient, polite tortoiseshell who cruised the grounds. I trust a fish house with its own cat.

- Chris Sherman dines anonymously and unannounced. The St. Petersburg Times pays for all expenses. A restaurant's advertising has nothing to do with selection for a review or the assessment of its quality. Sherman can be reached at 727 893-8585 or sherman@sptimes.com

937 Dodecanese Blvd.

Tarpon Springs

(727) 934-4047

www.rustybellies.com

Hours: 11 a.m. to 9 p.m. Sunday through Thursday; 11 a.m. to 11 p.m. Friday and Saturday

Details: credit cards; beer, wine

Features: outdoor seating, fish market (open to 6 p.m.)

[Last modified February 1, 2006, 10:57:33]