Oyster House

It's a core issue of identity, no doubt, that the Oyster House has yet to settle. But there were other classics slightly out of register that need to be fine-tuned. The lobster roll, among the priciest entrees at $26, is all wrong, from the side-split hot-dog bun (should be top-split) to a dressing that's too dry. The minced veggies inside the crab cakes were too distractingly al dente. The oyster po-boy was ruined by a chewy roll and hyper-pickled onions. The oysters Rockefeller should never have been deconstructed into an oyster layered between a bed of spinach and a jiggly pouf of broiled hollandaise. The pureed green silk of a traditionally blended herb topping is Rockefeller's entire reason for being.

There are more than enough touchstones done right here, however, to warm a fish-house fanatic's heart. The grilled blue fish was the freshest I've had, the dusky meat updated with a summer salad of limas and heirloom tomatoes in vinaigrette. The clam chowder and lobster bisque were also unthickened, but their Lancaster-cream broths were vividly rich. The shrimp and lobster cocktails were pure raw-bar decadence, far superior to the too-lightly-grilled lobster entree. Steamed soft-shell belly clams were was the definition of New England clam-ocity.

The gumbo and fisherman's stew, meanwhile, were satisfying seafood meals in a bowl. A Pernod-scented broth for the stew was the next best thing to good bouillabaisse. And then, of course, there is that quintessential Philadelphian odd couple: fried oysters with chicken salad.

In the updating spirit, that salad is made from air-chilled Canadian birds that get brined with thyme before they're cooked for a date with Hellmann's. But it's the masterfully fried oysters that remind why we've missed the Oyster House all along. No matter which way you get them - smaller "Southern-style" oysters in corn flour, or plumper Philly-style pups in classic cracker meal - they are perfection in crust, with centers so delicate, they're like bite-size oyster souffles.

The combo is the classic Philly lunch, dating to 19th-century black caterers, the Union League's founding, and the long-gone fish houses of yore. But there's no denying the pleasure of cool poultry against hot mollusk on our 21st-century plates. As my friend purred with happiness at the raw bar beside me - our oyster house alive again! - we can only give thanks.

Next Sunday, Craig LaBan reviews the Swift Half in Northern Liberties. Contact: claban@phillynews.com.