Rocca

323 W Palm Ave

Tampa, FL 33602

+1 (813) 906-5445

BY BILLY NORRIS | SEPTEMBER 26, 2025

The Food:

Bread, lemon butter, sea salt

Crudo, hamachi, green tomato, crème fraîche, jalapeño, seagrape

Mozzarella cart, kumato tomato, basil, ten-year-aged balsamic vinegar

Raviolini del Plin, veal filling, demi-glace, rosemary

Torchio Nero all’Arrabbiata, octopus, Calabrian chili, bottarga

Bistecca, Akaushi Wagyu beef striploin, salsa verde, haricot verts

The Wines:

1999 Ronchi di Cialli Ciallabianco	88
2021 Tiberio Trebbiano d’Abruzzo Fonte Canale	95
2017 G.B. Burlotto Barolo Monvigliero	96
2011 Ridge Monte Bello	93+

Tampa, Florida may not be what most readers consider a food mecca, but in recent years, among the city’s most ambitious chefs has steadily been tracking upward. Opened in late 2019, Rocca was one of the first three Tampa restaurants to receive a Michelin star, earning its one-star rating in 2022. Rocca straddles the line between contemporary and classical Italian, with a nod to Florida-focused ingredients. Chef Bryce Bonsack turns out some of the absolute finest food in the state.

Rocca is nestled into a modern condominium complex that looks more like it would play host to a college dormitory than to two separate Michelin-starred restaurants (neighboring one-star omakase spot Kōsen is a few doors down). The sealed concrete floor makes things feel rather cold and sterile, though dim, moody lighting, a proliferation of trailing ferns, and industrial chic fixtures do their best to add warmth. Said floor also amplifies every clank of a plate and pop of a cork. Rocca hums along at full tilt and is particularly boisterous during this power-hour 8 pm slot. Though decidedly not the last word on vibe, you’d be hard-pressed to find a better meal in a 100-mile radius. There’s no doubt that my two dining companions and I will be eating extremely well on this night.

We order the bread and butter to start as we mull over the relatively compact menu. Two glistening slices of focaccia and two slabs of grilled country bread are joined by a deeply flavored, cheesy cultured butter speckled with lemon zest and flaky sea salt. Dinner table diplomacy is a lost cause as we triangulate how to divide the four pieces between the three of us. It’s all a blur now, but the bread is delicious and disappears before I even think to take a photo.

Crudo, hamachi, green tomato, crème fraîche, jalapeño, seagrape.

Crudo follows. Ribbons of velvety, room-temperature Japanese hamachi (yellowtail) rest beneath a pile of icy cold green tomato granita, accented by a tangle of salty, crunchy seagrapes, a slick of tangy crème-fraîche and a scattering of paper-thin jalapeño slices that lend welcome heat. The contrast of textures and temperatures here is striking. Rocca’s crudo changes seasonally. This is one of the finest editions I’ve tasted.

Mozzarella cart, kumato tomato, basil, ten-year-aged balsamic vinegar.

“Oh, dinner and a show,” muses my tablemate as a dedicated server wheels the mozzarella cart to the table. The server carefully slices a couple of blackish-red kumato tomatoes into wedges, fanning them out across a plate. He then stretches soft, warm cheese curd bathed in brine into a ball shape, culling soft lobes from the glistening mass and tucking them between the tomatoes. A generous glug of extra virgin olive oil, a cool river of ten-year-aged balsamic vinegar, a few torn leaves of fresh basil and a showering of sea salt finish the plate. The dish feels completely lavish and unctuous, a total knockout. The tomatoes are impossibly sweet, the mozzarella yielding gently between the teeth as the complexity of the aged balsamic enlivens the whole affair. Your standard caprese salad, this is not. As an aside, Mr. Mozzarella Cart certainly gets his workout every night—it seems like every table in the restaurant orders this dish, and with good reason.

Torchio Nero all’Arrabbiata, octopus, Calabrian chili, bottarga.

The Torchio Nero all’Arrabbiata immediately calls to mind the fusilli with red-wine-braised octopus and bone marrow at Marea in NYC. However, Rocca’s dish is more rustic. Briny and deeply flavored, the twisted, squid-ink-laden pasta lends an oceany backdrop to the fiery Arrabbiata sauce, accented by the salty funk of Calabrian chilis. The octopus is tender yet toothsome. A flurry of shaved bottarga takes the umami factor to another level. This is my idea of comfort food—equally at home in a fine-dining restaurant or on nonna’s Sunday table.

Raviolini del Plin, veal filling, demi-glace, rosemary.

The Raviolini del Plin is arguably Rocca’s pasta coup de grace. Neatly coiffed parcels of gossamer-thin pasta enshrine a rich, unctuous filling of braised veal, cavolo nero and aged Parmigiano, almost paté-like in texture. The richness gets an extra boost from a glossy, deeply concentrated demi-glace brightened by a grassy olive oil, crunchy fried rosemary needles and shavings of Grana Padano. It’s really, really good—like, order-another-one good.

Sadly, the dry-aged Rohan duck (a marvelous, bacchanalian dish that comprises confit legs and thighs, sous-vide cooked and lacquered breasts, duck-stock-fortified stone-ground polenta, seared foie gras, etc., etc.)  is already sold out for the night. Pro tip: declare your intentions to order the duck the second the waiter greets you. It’s a must-order. Tonight, I failed to take my own advice.

Bistecca, Akaushi Wagyu beef striploin, salsa verde, haricot verts.

Downtrodden (not really), we “settle” for the Bistecca, a dry-aged Akaushi Wagyu striploin grilled to a perfect medium rare. Unctuous and dribbling with viscous fat, the beef boasts a shatteringly crisp, salty crust and is dotted with meltingly sweet confited garlic cloves that mingle nicely with the dry-aged funk. But the real star here is the vibrant, complex salsa verde fortified with anchovies, capers and a litany of herbs. This is part and parcel of what Rocca does so well, always amplifying acidity to offset and counterbalance the inherent richness of these dishes. This food is impressively balanced through and through.

Aside from a modest selection of Champagne, the wine list is entirely Italian. Markups are in line with what you’d expect from a young restaurant with a Michelin nod—that is to say, not outrageous, but definitely not a steal. A decent roll call of producers is represented, although several benchmark names from across Italy are conspicuously absent. It’s a serviceable selection, but corkage is welcome, and my party has chosen to supply our own libations this evening. That said, we order a bottle from the list to start, as is always good practice when bringing wines from home.

At the sommelier’s suggestion, we select the 1999 Ronchi di Cialla Ciallabianco. This bottling, a blend of Ribolla Gialla, Verduzzo and Picolit, comes from a small monopole in the Colli Orientali del Friuli. It pours a golden-orange hue and boasts an almost sherry-like oxidative quality on the nose, with hints of dried apricot, tarragon and molasses lurking beneath. Rich and oily, the 1999 weaves in and out of life, almost like somebody is playing with the volume knob on the radio…up and down, up and down. Acidity is initially absent then forcefully present, once again vanishing without a trace. The Ciallabianco is a bit of a curiosity, but it’s an interesting wine that sparks conversation around the table.

The 2021 Tiberio Trebbiano d’Abruzzo Fonte Canale is next. Now we’re talking. A laser beam of lemony acidity and (as Eric Guido likes to say) liquid rocks nearly blasts a hole through the palate, announcing itself with confidence and precision. A flicker of flinty reduction adds intrigue as citrusy apple tones build intensity with air. The Fonte Canale is a wine of total textural intrigue, and it’s a fabulous match for the crudo and mozzarella dishes. The 2021 is a cerebral white that toes the line but never crosses into austerity. What a beautifully singular wine.

G.B Burlotto’s 2017 Burlotto Monvigliero is a stunning beauty. Suave and sophisticated, the 2017 is powerfully aromatic and completely harmonious. Attractive floral aromatics, cool-toned berry fruit and blood-orange-like citrus tones spring from the glass with real gusto, but it’s the wine’s textural seamlessness that impresses most. As usual, the Monvigliero was vinified with 100% whole clusters, adding palpable lift and texture. The 2017 is very approachable and persistent today, the tannins receding ever so slightly to provide an upright spine to the borderline plush fruit. Gorgeous.

My third encounter with the 2011 Ridge Monte Bello in the last year revealed a wine that seems to be aging in reverse. Though the previous two bottles were beginning to mature aromatically, this one seems frozen in time. Today, it is almost shockingly primary and very sinewy. Black cherry and brambly berry fruit, menthol and mocha unfurl in a dark, brooding package that feels decidedly richer than one might expect from this cool growing season in the Santa Cruz Mountains. Though expressive and totally enjoyable today, this showing indicates that the 2011 may very well have more left in the tank than I initially thought.

Rocca has a lot going for it. The food is off-the-charts delicious. Slightly stiff, occasionally unwelcoming service and deficiencies in ambiance will likely keep it from garnering a second star any time soon, but the food is good enough that I’ll keep coming back. Reservations are essential and still very difficult to come by, but I urge visitors to the Tampa Bay area to put Rocca at the top of their lists.

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