The word was out on Black Pearl long before I went there to eat. Local media, national media, street-level buzz … all indications were that this stylish new American bistro on South Pearl was staking a claim as Denver’s “it” restaurant.
Restaurant buzz gets my attention. Hey, it’s my job.
What’s more, chef-owner Sean Huggard and sommelier-owner Steve Whited hail from the popular Summer House Restaurant on Nantucket. I know Nantucket well; I’m there every few months or so to visit my brother and his family, year-round residents of the outlying Atlantic island.
So I was especially psyched to check this place out.
Black Pearl is in a beautiful room. Warm colors, spacious seating, a bilevel dining room, fine appointments, a generous bar area, a welcoming patio out front. It’s a busy scene, and the clientele is sexy, well-heeled and disproportionately blond.
The staff, decked in cheerful striped oxfords, are chatty and opinionated. They’ve been well-informed about the menu and wine selections here, and they have definite recommendations to make. They don’t just take your order here, they get involved. This can be charming or annoying depending on your mood.
They also love the restaurant and love working here; I’ve never had a server here who hasn’t reminded me how utterly wonderful the food is.
Black Pearl, like many restaurants thriving in Colorado, touts its dedication to local and seasonal ingredients on its website. I believe in this virtue, but it has its limits. Ethically, yes, it’s better to eat locally and seasonally. Gastronomically, not always.
So the fact that a major chunk of the menu at Black Pearl is seafood, which, by definition, can’t be local to Denver – unless that whole Global Warming thing is taking effect faster than I thought – never bothered me. Besides, I like seafood.
Speaking of Black Pearl’s menu, it reads like a short list of my favorite foods, and the first time I saw it I wanted to bury my face in it and suck my thumb. Fried oysters. Pork porterhouse. Whole crispy fish. Clove-dusted chicken with baba ganoush. Moules et frites. Tuscan ribeye. Grilled Romaine with white anchovy. Cheeses like garrotxa (a tangy goat-milk cheese, usually from Spain) and brebiou (a sheep’s-milk cheese from the Pyrenees in France).
And perhaps the most delicious thing I’ve ever even heard of: A lobster BLT with whole Maine lobster, apple-smoked bacon, and roasted tomato.
Any of these dishes, made with good ingredients and a great deal of care, could be utterly delicious.
Sadly, on all of my visits, many of them weren’t.
Fried oysters were tepid and textureless. Baba ganoush was icebox-cold. Sweet potato curry was lukewarm and lacking mojo. “Fish and chips,” a brandade-like mixture of salt cod and potatoes formed into croquettes and deep fried, was bland. Crab-crusted tilapia had no crust. Billy Bi soup, an old-fashioned egg yolk and mussel soup which isn’t served anywhere these days except at Black Pearl, was watery and flavorless.
Most egregiously, the lobster in that lobster BLT was chewy. Rubbery. Tough to eat.
I was crushed.
It’s hard to say, precisely, what sank most of the choices I made at Black Pearl. Each dish could be deconstructed, for sure, and their individual merits and shortcomings discussed at length. All I know is they didn’t work, and I think there’s a step missing somewhere in the kitchen: Quality control.
I suspect that somewhere, someone wasn’t tasting everything they were sending out. The dishes (and diners) suffered for it.
Especially considering the prices. On four visits, bills have averaged about $50 a head, and more with wine. Not so cheap.
One tasty exception was the macaroni and cheese with mascarpone and truffle. Variations of this dish appear on menus all over Denver, but unlike most others, which are strangled by the strong flavor of truffle, this one showcased the subtleties of that flavor, quietly.
Other bright spots: Frites were tasty and hot. Grilled romaine with white anchovy was sharp and satisfying. Pork porterhouse was well-cooked and, being pork and all, delicious.
Black Pearl is rightfully proud of its modest but solid raw bar. Oyster selection changes daily. I do wonder why on some nights the guy who mixes the drinks also has to shuck the oysters, but it’s cool. My favorite cocktail, the Citadelle (gin, apricot brandy and bitters) never tastes fishy, and the oysters (various fresh varieties from both coasts) never taste like gin.
Speaking of drinks, the wine collection deserves a shout-out. They offer a wide range at Black Pearl, with special focus on organic and biodynamic wines from smaller producers. You’ll find a Gruet Blanc de Blancs (New Mexico), a Solex Chardonnay (California) and a Lafage Cote Grenache (France). The list is unique and well-written, if aggressively priced.
If you eat out frequently, or if you live in the neighborhood, stop by Black Pearl. Sit at the bar for a glass of something bubbly, some oysters and a basket of frites. And maybe that mac and cheese. Check out the menu and plan the rest of the evening accordingly.
No question, there’s more talent at Black Pearl than they’re letting on. Is there good reason for all the buzz? Maybe. The clever menu alone is enough to suggest its potential. Black Pearl aims high, and that’s worth something. With care, and work, it may live up to its promise.
Dining critic Tucker Shaw can be reached at 303-820-1958 or dining@denverpost.com.
* | Black Pearl
New American|1529 S. Pearl St., 303-777-0500|* (Good)
Atmosphere: Stylish, bustling bistro with well-dressed clientele.
Service: apated and knowledgeable, very eager share their point of view.
Wine List: Smart, tight wine list with focus on small, lesser-known producers.
Plates: Small plates $5-$15, entrees $17-28.
Hours: Open Monday-Saturday from 4 p.m.
Details: All major credit cards accepted. Reservations recommended. Wheelchair accessible. Street parking. Outdoor dining in nice weather.
Four visits.
Our star system:
****: Exceptional.
***: Great.
**: Very good.
*: Good.
No stars: Needs work.
