Crocante Rotisserie Kitchen is crack-a-lackin’ in Kissimmee
It was like a gunshot or thunder. A sharp crack, loud and pronounced, as I bit into it — pork skin golden-brown and delectably crispy — hard enough to cut you, tender enough to melt in your mouth.
But I had to wait ‘til I got home to try it because the staff at Kissimmee’s new Crocante Rotisserie Kitchen — I have to assume — cares so much about your safety that they tie the takeout bags ridiculously tight. Forcing you to wait until you get home to reach in and sample their 5-plushour roasted porchetta and the crackin’, crack-addictive shell of skin surrounding its tender, juicy, beautifully cooked meat.
It’s an Italian delicacy, porchetta — savory and fatty and boneless, rolled and roasted for hours — but at the aptly-named Crocante, chef/owner Yamuel Bigio delivers one with Latin flair.
“It’s the Spanish word for crunchy or brittle,” says Bigio, a seasoned restaurateur who
pulled up stakes in Puerto Rico to open his first stateside venue with a plow-ahead entrepreneurial spirit. “Our porchetta always
comes with that crispy skin.”
They also do a homemade chicharron that they sell in bags. The sound of its consumption
can be heard by astronauts on the International Space Station.
Bigio and his family moved here in August and opened
Crocante in December. He spotted the location — a circa-1979 building that began its life as a Taco Bell but has had many lives since — while on vacation and snatched it up.
“I saw the opportunity and made the move as quick as I could,” says Bigio, whose wife has family in the area. “I didn’t look anywhere else. I wanted the first place I could get. I just wanted to get my name out there and have the people here get to know me.”
A restaurant in the States has long been a dream for Bigio, who’s already logged about 20 years in the business since graduating from New York’s Culinary Institute of America, and even more in food if you count his early years.
“My father was a butcher,” he explains. “It’s something I’ve been doing since I was a kid. And I wanted to do something different here than I did in Puerto Rico.”
His first, Top Meat, a steakhouse, had a 10-year run in Guay
nabo. Later came funky, trendy Yam Burger — two of them — in San Juan (yes, he admits with a laugh, they were named after him).
“Yam Burger was awesome — very unique,” he says. “But there are so many burger joints [in the U.S.]. My wife says we should try a location here. Maybe when Crocante gets up and running, we will.”
It’s well on its way. Open Wednesday through Sunday, 11 a.m. to sell out, in just two months they’re selling out most days. No surprise when you taste the food, all of which is made in-house, every day, from juicy rotisserie chicken to classic sides like arroz con gandules (rice with pigeon peas) to guineos en escabeche, a tangy warm “salad” of green bananas, vinegar, onions and something that tastes a little like love. I know there’s love in the maduros, but there’s always love in those.
“There are classic places in Puerto Rico called lechoneras and basic side dishes they sell with the pork,” Bigio explains. “I wanted to have the essence of a lechonera — a typical roast-pork Latin place — but I wanted to execute those sides really, really well. It should give people who’ve been to a lechonera that sort of a flashback, only better.”
Crocante makes sausage, too. Chicken, pork and traditional morcilla blood sausage, the latter of particular note. Rich and dark, sweet almost with tender rice, it smells clean and herbal — with notes of cilantro — though there are others, along with fresh vegetables, in the mix of the complex recipe, Bigio tells me.
The porchetta, of course, is a process. It takes 15 to 20 minutes to debone each piece. Then comes seasoning. Then tying, the most crucial step.
“If it’s not done properly, it won’t hold itself together over so many hours of cooking,” he explains.
Bigio wakes up early every day. I met him before 7 am on one visit — to pick up, among other things, a creamy, gorgeous tembleque — studded with candied passion fruit and ginger. (At the time of this writing, I’m still toying with the idea of eating it all myself ). And until he’s assembled and educated a team who can execute the porchetta just right, he’ll continue to be here — dawn to close.
They’re getting there, I’d say. The ease of ordering online or on the phone ahead of time, scheduling a pickup, then blasting through the drive-through window, was a joy on my visits. The staff was exceptionally friendly, and the dining room is open, as well, if you care to test them indoors.
And you should. “[Kissimmee] is a good spot for Puerto Rican food, but I named it Crocante Rotisserie Kitchen because I want everyone to come here,” says a passionate Bigio. “All the Latinos from other places and everyone else, from all the nationalities, to taste what we do.”
If people will line up for barbecue, he surmises, “I believe that we can make a good enough product for people to wait in line for rotisserie, too.”
I do, too. But go soon. Before the lines.
If you go:
Crocante Rotisserie Kitchen: 1550 W. Vine St. in Kissimmee, 407-7851199; crocantekitchen.com/
Want to reach out? Find me on Twitter or Instagram @amydroo or on the OSFoodie Instagram account @orlando.foodie. Email: amthompson@ orlandosentinel.com. Join the conversation at the Orlando Sentinel’s Facebook Forum, Let’s Eat, Orlando.