In the late ’80s (or was it the early ’90s?), I was invited to a press event at the former incarnation of Oyster House. I don’t recall too much about it, but perhaps that is because I was distracted. Sitting at the table across from me was Teller, the silent half of the comedy-magic duo known as Penn & Teller, and he was enthusiastically chatting away.
Then the Sansom Street Oyster House, now just Oyster House, it was a dark, crowded place. For some reason, I thought I dined in the basement, but have since discovered there was no basement. I don’t know if that says something about the décor or my memory or both, but it is no longer the backroom restaurant of my mind. The newly renovated and reopened Oyster House is a bright, shining, open place with smiling, happy people and, of course, plenty of oysters.
Not everything at Oyster House is new. Though the original owner, David Mink, sold the restaurant in 2000, the family reclaimed it after the new owner filed for bankruptcy protection last summer. Now his son, Sam Mink, has taken the reins and brings a modern touch to an old classic.
The new Oyster House is spacious with high ceilings and whitewashed brick walls. The front of the restaurant is floor-to-ceiling glass with a cocktail rail crafted of antique white milk glass salvaged from Mink’s grandfather Sam’s famed restaurant Kelly’s, on Mole Street, which he owned and operated from 1947-69. A small bar, which seats eight-10 people, is situated up front. In the middle is the raw bar, a neat L-shaped affair where guests can view shuckers opening oysters and clams to order. In the back are the dining tables. Though the dining room has a nice modern feel, “salvaged” is the buzzword of the day. From what I understand, the front bar’s marble comes from paving slabs at Independence Mall.
“Our simple block tables are crafted from reclaimed wood from Philadelphia institutions, but the most captivating decorative feature is my family’s collection of more than 200 antique oyster plates artfully mounted around the perimeter of the dining room, which my father and grandfather amassed over their years in the business,” said Mink.
And the furnishings aren’t the only things salvaged. “Some of the best-loved menu items, like our clam chowder, have been brought back, as a tribute to the originals and as a welcome treat for our regular customers who loved them,” added Mink.
I met with a dear old friend for lunch (in lesbian terms, that means ex). We started out simply with a chilled shrimp cocktail ($10), colossal wild shrimp served with a hearty cocktail sauce made with horseradish, ketchup, Tabasco, Worcestershire and chili sauce, which gave it a little kick. Maria ordered a classic martini ($10), which she, as an aficionado, pronounced to be perfectly mixed. I ordered a glass of the Standing Stone Finger Lakes Riesling ($8), a pleasant floral wine with lemon-lime-like flavors. The Oyster House has a nice bar with several offerings of wine by the glass, draft as well as bottled beer and rosemary lemonade, along with house-made ginger beer.
I next went with the lobster bisque ($10), a velvety bowl of bisque flavored with cognac and chock full of lobster meat.
OK, as sexy as they sound, I’m not a big raw-oyster person. I think the last time I tried to consume one was in Martha’s Vineyard and it didn’t go very well. I think I was in my teens, so I probably wasn’t mature enough to eat oysters without chuckling inappropriately, but nevertheless, the incident scarred me enough that I never slurped again. I was going to let Maria do the tasting for me, but I just didn’t feel right doing a review and not trying the oysters. Our server was knowledgeable and enthusiastic, and (figuratively) held my hand through the process.
We ordered the Royal Miyagi oysters ($14), one of 10 of the raw options. Produced in British Columbia, only a few hundred of these oysters are available each week, according to our server, and Oyster House is probably the only place in Pennsylvania to carry them. A medium-sized West Coast oyster, the Miyagi is only the tiniest bit briny and has a cucumber-melon finish. The presentation was impressive, with the platter taking up half the table. Our server pointed out one oyster in particular that had a beautiful shell, curvaceous and rimmed in black, as if it had applied eyeliner with a steady hand. I chose that one, hoping desperately not to embarrass myself. No worries: It was a silken affair, not at all chewy as I had remembered. As promised, it was sleek and tasty with naught but a hint of brine. Maybe I’ve grown up a bit or maybe these were excellent oysters. I’d lean toward the latter.
My lunch companion, who regularly eats oysters, said these were among the best she’d tasted.
For her main entrée, she chose the niçoise salad ($14), a colorful dish made with Mediterranean tuna served with a hard-cooked egg, tomatoes, Kalamata olives and green beans. Not the fanciest item on the menu, but the tuna was thick and delicious and the lemon vinaigrette was a perfect complement without overpowering the dish.
Before getting to my main dish, I tried the fried oysters ($9). Made with full bellies, these were delectable bites lightly battered and served with a delicious tartar sauce and the aforementioned cocktail sauce.
For my main entrée, I ordered the Maine lobster roll ($26), large chunks of lobster with celery, dotted with tiny bits of shallot for just a little added taste, on a buttered split-top roll and served with homemade chips. It was, thankfully, not slathered in mayonnaise, which allowed me to take it home as a leftover without worrying about the bread getting soggy. Day two and it was just as good …
After lunch, our server brought us a taste of the Oyster House punch ($7), a twist on the traditional fish-house punch. It was a fabulous concoction of rum, apricot brandy, fresh-brewed iced tea, fruit juice and secret spices. My lunch companion remarked that she used to be a cognac drinker, but as she got older one glass would make her yearn for naptime. This was a nice way to enjoy the cognac without it being overpowering.
For dessert, I ordered the strawberry rhubarb crumble ($7), a zingy mingling of sweet and tart tastes offset by homemade vanilla ice cream.
I guess the third generation is the charm. By the size of the crowd, it appears Oyster House is the new place to see and be seen for lunch. I ran into several people I knew before I even found my seat. With the high ceiling and brick walls, it’s a little noisy inside, so be prepared to raise your voice over the din.
All in all, it was a welcome change for the venerable establishment. I think even Teller would have something to say about the new place.