Palm Harbor's Shops at Clover Place is a restaurant mecca in a sea of suburbia, offering everything from the funky Mystic Fish (close cousin to popular Indian Rocks Beach institution Guppy's) to the quiet, classy hideaway of the Blue Heron. Since opening the restaurant 16 years ago, owner Rob Stea has distinguished the Blue Heron from its neighbors with a cool, upscale atmosphere and outstanding cuisine. It's a romantic spot, where visitors can listen to favorite standards from a live band, sip chilled martinis and dine on imaginative and unusual dishes that share fusion sensibilities with a decided touch of whimsy.Though easily reached by both Pinellas residents (it's off U.S. 19) and Hillsborough folk (just head down Tampa Road), the Clover Place plaza was so unassuming that we actually drove right by before realizing we'd reached our destination. Set back from the road behind droopy, moss-laden oaks and, unfortunately, graced with cracked, yellowing awnings, the strip mall didn't exactly look as if it contained any eateries of note. But once we were inside the dimly lit Blue Heron, the restaurant's classic deco flair and well-heeled clientele reminded me not to judge a book by its cover, or a restaurant by its landlord. And Heron's long history of success surely counts for something. The restaurant has been around since the Bonefish Grill was merely an independent local favorite (in fact, they have a "Bonefish Martini" on the menu, a relic of a time when good-natured recipe-swapping was common among local restaurateurs).
We began the evening with a few of the more intriguing appetizers on Blue Heron's concise menu. Our server recommended the lobster bisque ($6) and my seafood slut of a date was sold. On the menu, it was called "our lovely lobster bisque" and my date definitely agreed, for I barely got a taste of the creamy, subtly flavored bisque before he slurped down the whole generous bowl. I am very picky about my bisques, and don't care for the highly aerated variety making the rounds at area restaurants. I'm looking for soup, not froth, and I enjoyed the fact that Blue Heron didn't beat the crap out of their version. The same lobster sauce used in the bisque tops the grouper cardinal entrée ($23), complementing the stuffing of lobster, shrimp and scallops.
I ordered the crab cakes ($9), which were served with a crust of crushed blue tortilla chips and a side of roasted green tomatillo salsa. The touch of blue tortilla is unusual, to say the least, and definitely gave me pause when the dish arrived. The deep indigo of blue corn chips should have made for a distinct presentation, but the effect was ruined by the restaurant's "intimate" lighting scheme. Our single, scanty tea light made it look like I was being served two blackened lumps, and I almost sent it back before realizing that my appetizer wasn't burnt to a crisp, just coated with a purple crust. And once again, my first impression might have cost me dearly, for I very much enjoyed the sweet, meaty crab cakes — and the crunch afforded by the blue tortilla crust. I was less enamored with the salsa, which I found unrelentingly bitter and imbued with a fire that didn't add anything to the flavor of the dish. [Ed. Note: The tomatillo salsa was featured on the Blue Heron's summer menu; the fall menu features cornmeal-crusted crab cakes, with toasted pumpkin seed salsa and a Florida citrus- and olive oil-infused broth.]
There were so many intriguing entrée options on the menu that we had a tough time deciding what to choose. After lingering at length over the promise of a sweet-and-spicy roasted duck ($23), I finally ordered the opakapaka ($22). A mild white fish from Hawaii, the opakapaka was crusted with roasted pumpkin seeds and served in a very sweet and mild Thai-style red curry sauce. Vegetables and coconut rice complement the fish — and it's a good thing, too, since there wasn't very much opakapaka on the plate. Considering the regular supply of impressive white fish gathered from our area waters, I was disappointed to be served a small portion of a more exotic variety. All things considered, I would have preferred a weightier hunk of snapper or grouper in the dish rather than the flimsy filet of Hawaiian fish. I have nothing against bringing in exotic ingredients if it makes all the difference in the dish, but if the local boys can get the job done (and give us more bang for our buck), it's a pity to make us pay for an import.
My favorite dish of the evening was my date's rack of double-cut lamb chops ($27). An excellent example of a justifiable import, the succulent Australian lamb was roasted to a medium-rare perfection and served with an unusual and spectacular sauce made with honey, rosemary and Guinness stout.
Blue Heron's pastry chef, Steve Memmo, makes desserts daily in-house, so we were careful to save room for one more course. For dessert, we tried an extremely rich "Belgian chocolate pté" ($8). Similar in appearance to a semi-frozen mousse, its rich flavor was softened by a smooth, almost frothy texture. Our other dessert, a sampler trio of ice cream ($9), was served in a tray that held each flavor in a different dish. The scoop of banana was surprisingly refreshing and tasted more like the fruit than any of the cloyingly sweet commercial "banana-flavored" ice creams I'd ever tasted before. Before I tried it, I was equally skeptical about Blue Heron's ability to pull off the wasabi ice cream, but it was exceedingly mild and sweet. Indeed, it could have been flavored with any of the more usual spices (cinnamon, cardamom) rather than the Asian pepper, because the flavor was so subtle and mild. (And it wasn't green, at least, not in the dim lighting.) The final flavor, mint chocolate chip, was my favorite of the bunch, though I must admit that "MCC" has always been my favorite flavor of ice cream (even when it's artificially colored green, as it was here). Blue Heron's version possessed a decided herbal essence in its mint, and though it was the most common flavor found in the trio, it displayed such outstanding quality that there's little question in my mind of why it was included in the bunch.
Though a dinner at this cozy Palm Harbor spot is by no means inexpensive, the romantic environs and inventive menu make the Blue Heron worthwhile for special occasions or even just a really hot date. It's worth a little green to get the blues.
Freelance writer Diana Peterfreund dines anonymously and the Planet pays for her meals. She may be contacted at diana.peterfreund@weeklyplanet.com. Restaurants are chosen for review at the discretion of the writer, and are not related to advertising.
This article appears in Nov 10-16, 2004.