Review: Mercato Della Pescheria. Catered to tourists, worth it for locals.

 This is a Pre-Covid review. Many restaurants have changed greatly since the pandemic.

Mercato Della Pescheria
412 Española Way
Miami Beach, Fl, 33139

Mercato looks like a tourist trap, feels like one, then surprises you. An oasis in ground zero of a culinary wasteland. Set in the affectatious yet charming Española way, Mercato's staff was amiable and efficient. The decor was a handsome mixture of theme park-esque tuscan cottage with modern elements like exposed concrete and airy spaces. A common but not unwelcome staple of most of Miami's Mediterranean menus is the branzini. From the bass family, it indeed is a Mediterranean species and though it is increasingly farmed, a good branzini is unforgettable.

Mercato's roasted branzini is served whole, as a good fish should be. Its skin was skillfully crisped into a flat, unbroken sheet of crackling delight. The flesh was cooked with remarkable precision: an alluring tuft of steam wafted forth when one first cut into it. The seasoning too showed a remarkable hand; the infallible combination of lemon and garlic judiciously applied to both fade into and elevate the fish's own flavor, and like a good branzini, its flesh was light textured and carried with it the scent of the ocean. 

The true surprise came after first cutting into it. This fish, which appeared whole, had in fact been completely, masterfully deboned while leaving the whole body undisturbed. Along with it came an artful looking smear of flat tasting cauliflower puree and a few spears of asparagus: unsuitable, but forgivable companions to such a masterpiece. 

The grilled prawn was also served whole, as it should be, and attractively blackened on the edges. It was slightly overcooked, though a prawn of this quality was robust enough that it withstood this offense. Nonetheless, $17 is asking a lot for one prawn. Two prawns would buy you a far more exquisite experience in the branzino.

I suspect that pasta puttanesca isn't the kind of dish the servers recommend often, and ours didn't either. The name, and it's flavors, are both rough, perhaps even raunchy. I'm not Italian, nor an expert: nevertheless, I've had many puttanescas, and like to imagine that the best ones were always a little raunchy. This example showcased an unmistakable freshness in both the pasta and tomatoes. The barrage of olives, chilies, capers, and anchovies means you'd love or hate puttanesca, and here the cooks weren't shy about piling them on. Yet the anchovies were of a low grade and, perhaps to cater to an American audience, there was too much sauce, even for a saucy puttanesca. Despite these flaws, the dish was able to give a good account of itself.

Mercato's touristy aspect is perhaps a necessary element in its own survival. If so, the trip is worth it.