Nestled in the corner of The Skirvin Hotel’s ground floor, where it meets downtown’s Santa Fe Garage, Perle Mesta is the latest Oklahoma City restaurant venture of Chef Andrew Black.
While I’ll never turn my nose at fine dining, it’s a rare occasion when I make the time and effort to sit down for a meal created by the likes of a James Beard award winner — and even rarer still that I sit down for this culinary caliber in my own city. (It’s not that I don’t enjoy the finer things Oklahoma City has to offer, but at the end of a long week, as a tired millennial, sometimes a messy taco or some fresh tots has a louder siren’s call.)
With cautious optimism, I walked into Perle Mesta not at all knowing what to expect.
It offers an upscale atmosphere, and stepping into the restaurant’s foyer felt reminiscent of a larger metropolitan locale. Plush seating and chic decor punctuated an environment that made it easy to forget I was still in Oklahoma City.
What it lacked in patrons it made up for with a comfortable intimacy that made the experience feel special.
Admittedly, I don’t normally have alcohol with dinner. The restaurant’s overall Gatsby vibes, however, persuaded me to order the Call Me Madam. Made with rose and elderflower gin, bergamot liqueur, simple syrup, lemon and sparkling wine, this pink drink was as delicate as it sounds. Growing more aromatic with every sip, its bright, refreshing profile was everything I didn’t know I wanted.
Home-y ham
Perle Mesta’s menu features what I’m sure is an exquisite lineup of oysters, scallops and other fresh seafood delights. But seeing as how I’m quite allergic to shellfish, I decided to go in a different direction.
From the tasting menu, I quickly homed in on the Iberico ham paired with grilled milk bread and garlic aioli. While I’d love to tell you I anguished over the decision, one hint of a Spanish meat and this Madrid-loving traveler was sold. Served in bite-sized squares, the hero of the dish was the ham, with the aioli playing a close second. If you’re not a fan of the bolder, earthier taste of an Iberico ham, however, this one isn’t for you. While I easily could have eaten twice as many bites, this dish is, put simply, an elevated ham sandwich. Delicious? Yes. Complex? No.
For the main course, I had already set my eyes on one of Chef Black’s specialties: lavender duck with wild mushroom cream.
Not to sound cliché, but with the first bite, I was hit with a sense of what I can only describe as hominess. While my mom wasn’t in the practice of making duck every Sunday, there was something about the duck’s undeniable chemistry with mushroom umami that brought on a wave of nostalgic comfort.
More than just an afterthought and cooked to perfection, seasoned potatoes shared the dish and served as a perfect conduit to swipe up any remaining mushroom cream.
A yin to the duck’s yang, the glazed sea bass was the definition of delicate. Almost as light as air, each bite nearly dissolved as it hit my tongue. A citrus blanc sauce heightened the fish further, rather than weighing it down, for a truly decadent mouthful. While I’m a fan of pearl rice and had no qualms with its presence on the plate, the sea bass’s unparalleled texture and flavor made anything else seem unnecessary.
Sorbet savior
If there’s one thing you can count on, it’s me saying yes to dessert at any restaurant above a certain price point. What’s another few dollars for the chance to take a walk on the sweeter side?
Ready to order as many desserts as my tree nut allergy allowed, I discovered my choices were chocolate cake or … nope, just chocolate cake. I realize there’s an argument to be made here for the age-old saying, “Beggars can’t be choosers,” especially in the way of pastry dishes at a restaurant so clearly created for savory exploits. But I don’t think it’s out of order to expect a little razzle or dazzle from a restaurant at this level.
I did what any respectable food reviewer would do. I immediately ordered the chocolate cake.
Thankfully, I wasn’t disappointed.
Exceedingly rich, the chocolate cake on its own would have been adequate at best and lackluster at worst. To the rescue, however, was an icy berry sorbet. Offering a chilled contrast to the cake’s density, the sorbet cut through the chocolate’s richness in a complimentary — and necessary — way. While I found the first bite of cake to be unremarkable, an added sliver of sorbet turned this dessert into one I found joy in eating.
Overall, I left Perle Mesta satisfied. It offered the chance to dabble in culinary creations not often seen in a city of our size without feeling like I had to be part of society’s crème de la crème to enjoy them.
Candidly, it’s hard to deny the experience would have been enhanced with the greater vibrancy that comes with a full house. Though there’s no way of predicting patronage on any given night, I felt I couldn’t really grasp the scope of Perle Mesta’s full potential with a small number of staff on-site and even fewer occupied tables.
While less overall chatter meant I could hear myself think, it was hard to shake the tinge of awkward interaction that’s inevitable when only a handful of people occupy a large space built for socialization.
Whether it’ll survive the fickle tide of the restaurant industry isn’t for me to say. But if you’re looking for a night of subtle elegance and melt-in-your-mouth meats, the Perle of the Skirvin just might be worth a stop.I look forward to following what Stitch does with its menu and would love to return in the evening to get a sweet waffle topped with lemon curd and prickly pear drizzle for dinner when it is added to the all-day menu.
This article appears in Bigger than basketball.