If you're looking for the grandeur of the Titanic set within the Philadelphia city limits, The Oceanaire Seafood Room is the perfect spot to put on your coattails, play dress up, and enjoy a wide variety of fresh seafood.
Operating Partner and General Manager Peter Mooradian, formerly of Le Cirque, runs a tight ship - as the service at this 400-seat behemoth rivals any of the top restaurants in the city. Since its grand opening on November 1, 2006, The Oceanaire is carving a niche for itself among the city's other upscale eateries.
Unless it's Restaurant Week, most students will likely only drop into The Oceanaire for special occasions (acing the LSATs, winning a Beirut tournament) or when the folks are in town.
Before heading to your table, swing by the modern, electric-hued bar for a Yeungling ($4.50) and an oyster shooter ($2.15).
For starters the grand shellfish platter ($35) is a towering sampler of chilled shrimp, crab, lobster, fresh oysters & clams that is big enough for 2-3 people. Must-have appetizers include the sweet potato with curry shrimp ($4.95-6.95) and the jumbo lump crab cocktail ($14.95). The flavor of the rock shrimp ($9.95), however, got lost in the fried texture- this one struggles to stay afloat.
The menu changes daily based upon the availability of fresh seafood. The pan seared sashimi grade Haiwaiian tombo was well worth its thirty-dollar price tag. Pounds of freshly cut raw tuna, dotted with Japanese seaweed, filled the entire oblong plate. Oceanaire rivals Morimoto for the best raw tuna in the city.
For traditionalists, the saut‚ed California white bass ($28.95) is sure to impress. Served with gnocchi, peas and a dry vermouth sauce, the bass was flaky and tender and fell off the fork.
Despite the societal stigma that plagues brussel sprouts, these ($7.95), served with bacon and onion, would inspire anyone to try them once. They were delightfully crunchy yet sinfully full of trans-fats.
The baked Alaska for dessert could convince any liberal congressman to start drilling in the Arctic. The bottom layer, comprised of a dense brownie provides a solid base to its sweet counterparts. The second layer, orange sorbet, cleansed the pallet in preparation for the piŠce de r‚sistance: the oozing marshmallows that were subsequently set ablaze by the amiable waiter Mario. All in all, a dessert worth abandoning ship for.
The Oceanaire provides an ambiance resminiscent of your favorite cruise with your grandparents- but leave the shuffleboard sticks at home.
