Sanibel Chophouse
The closest Sanibel Chophouse comes to Florida's island of seashell beaches is a shot glass that spells it. The souvenir holds toothpicks and is in the restroom.
Admittedly, bringing the smallest splash of Sanibel to this stretch of Merrick Road requires more than a double of imagination served straight up.
Some artwork and a few dishes do suggest the shore. But, name aside, the new restaurant arrives mainly as a good stop for socializing in the neighborhood.
The basic appeal of Sanibel Chophouse is its friendly, unpretentious manner, even when the bar is overflowing and the dining area packed. Make a reservation or be prepared to wait.
Managers, waitresses and the bartender are adept at crowd control. And the prices are civilized by the very well-marbled steakhouse standard. Sanibel has its niche.
You, in turn, get tasty baked clams sparked by the flavor of chorizo sausage. Chef Kenneth Pulomena also prepares very good sesame-seared tuna paired with crunchy seaweed salad on little rafts of fried wonton.
Standard shellfish cocktails come with the basic horseradish-driven red sauce and a milder mustard sauce for company. But the house's crab cakes are overdone; and the spongy "bag 'o doughnuts" means nondescript seafood fritters.
In keeping with the steak-and-chophouse philosophy that cardiology is slightly less credible than astrology, you also can start a meal with thick-cut slices of smoked bacon.
Health nuts and dissenters may veer toward salads, of which the fresh house production and the chopped salad highlighted by olives, roasted peppers and manchego cheese are the best. The Bibb lettuce number, of three trimmed heads with "caramelized pecan dust," blandly speaks for itself.
Sanibel does stand out with a beefy, fibrous New York strip steak, cooked as ordered; and a velvety filet mignon. The juicy porterhouse, available for one or for two, has heft. And braised beef short ribs, with Gorgonzola-spiked mashed potatoes, have bracing, cool-weather appeal. But the 24-ounce "cowboy ribeye," trimmed and big enough to mimic a tennis racquet, is so overcooked that it could be used as one. A cider-spiced, brined, double-cut pork chop, however, is tender, riding mustard-mashed potatoes, braised red cabbage and apple-pear chutney.
Surf-and-turf becomes mix-and-match. You may add grilled shrimp and scallops, stuffed shrimp, a crab cake or a 5-ounce lobster tail to the meat. But, among the seafood selections, sea bass in garlic-and-white wine sauce will do. Or turn Floridian with grouper. The shoestring fries and the amply cheesed macaroni-and-cheese work with everything. The wine list does, too.
Warm chocolate cake heads the desserts, well ahead of soggy apple brown Betty and the instant-melt bananas Foster parfait. Or try the lemon sorbet, which adds some tang and a sunny ending.
Reviewed by Peter M. Gianotti, 11/11/07
