Ocean Hai
2.5 out of 5 stars
Wyndham Grand Clearwater Beach, 100 Coronado Drive., Clearwater. Appetizers: $9-$18; entrees: $16-$42; desserts: $10; wines by the glass: $10-$28. 727-281-9500; wyndhamgrandclearwater.com.
The good news about the Miami-fication of Clearwater Beach and the growth of high-rise resorts is that they've got valet parking — no need to search for a meter or walk in the Florida humidity. Wyndham's splendid Grand, just south of the traffic circle as Causeway Boulevard hits the beach, is no exception.
A smiling valet is eager to take the keys to your magic coach so that you may ascend the stairs like royalty and enter the sleek, chic world of the beach resort. The Wyndham Grand has many design features to please the eye as you cross the lobby and pass happy guests sitting at the endless curved bar "meeting cute" as they savor their flavored martinis.
Much like Sea-Guini at Opal Sands Resort or Caretta on the Gulf at the Sandpearl, Ocean Hai's aim is upscale. The beautiful glass private dining room on the right as you enter makes me wish I'd brought a crowd. But as we cross into the main dining area, I'm struck by the floor-to-ceiling windows looking out on the gulf, the crisp linens and sparkling stemware.
The website promises a menu that's "an entirely new approach to dining" with Asian fusion cuisine. The only problem is that Wolfgang Puck and Jean-Georges Vongerichten have been champions of Asian fusion since the early 1990s. Asian fusion has trickled down all over Tampa Bay. Executive chef Claude Rodier is either a victim of zealous corporate marketing folks overselling his menu, or full of hubris. The look is four stars, but the proof, as they say, is in the pudding.
An example right off the bat is a clumsy delivery of well-chosen wine flight trios. High-end vino doesn't belong in beach bar glasses. Why spend time creating an exciting series of wine flights only to serve them in clunky industrial style. The rims are three times as thick as the Reidel or Spiegelau stemware this quality of wine demands. You're offering, and your diners are paying for, nuance. If Wyndham is worried about the expense of stemware breakage, change the wine list. I guarantee that corporate bean counters made this choice over the cries of Rodier's beverage staff.
And our friendly server doesn't have a clue. Seamless fine-dining service requires lots of training. I revisited On Swann recently; that's a well-trained service staff. Go take a visit to Tampa and see what great, practiced service is all about.
Then, there's the food.
The appetizers are mixed. Salmon and dark, seductive ahi tuna nigiri have fresh fish slices, but the rice collapses as I attempt a quick dip in the soy. Thai steamed mussels are tender, but the broth has little zip, and beautiful grill marks are on stale bread. The lump crab cake fares better with fennel, papaya, cool shaved cucumber and some kick from passion fruit coulis.
Finally, an impressive, colorful row of different roasted beets is matched with goat cheese and caramelized onion spring rolls that lack the crispness they're designed to bring to the plate.
Entrees are better, though they need attention and tweaking. Beautiful roasted snapper sits on gooey risotto garnished with limp snow peas. Risotto is tricky; there's a fine line between seductive creaminess with al dente bite and going over the cliff to crash and burn in the valley of gumminess.
Mahi mahi is nicely seasoned, yet the grains with macadamia and pineapple are bland, and the lobster nage doesn't carry its weight in the dish. You have to perfect each component before combining them, then adjust the seasonings to create a synergy of ingredients. This one falls flat because its supporting players haven't got the chops.
The pork tenderloin is overly sweet, while a big bowl of pork belly ramen pales in comparison to the standard set by Buya in St. Petersburg. Its poached egg halves are lovely, but there are many soft noodles, and the mushroom broth falls short of multi-dimensional lushness, which marks transcendent ramen.
The restaurant's desserts also need work and editing. Lemongrass crème brûlée is so mild that it barely registers. Although the accompanying ginger biscotti is not crisp, the flavor pops. However, I have no idea why a chocolate macaron is the other garnish.
When we see "caramelized bananas," it conjures images of bananas Foster for the table. Unfortunately, there's no sauce. Instead, four squares of banana cake are topped with bite-size pieces of brûléed banana. The piped chocolate mousse garnish with strawberry is tasty, but why is it here?
I can only conclude that Ocean Hai's target is an expensive meal aimed at tourists and business travelers. Locals, who have a choice at this price point, expect and deserve seamless service and the full accoutrements that accompany fine dining. You're better off going with Caretta or Sea-Guini, at least in Clearwater Beach.
Sadly, the evening ends with the worst valet parking I've ever encountered — not because the valets aren't eager and running around. It seems the cars are parked on level five, and it takes 10 to 15 minutes (or more) to retrieve them. The whole valet plan needs to be rethought. Perhaps the restaurant can alert the valet when the check is paid.
As I stand in the evening's cold ocean breeze wondering if my car will ever appear, the earworm refrain from "Hotel California" fills my head: "You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave!"
Jon Palmer Claridge dines anonymously when reviewing. Check out the explanation of his rating system.
