Lucky Pierre's

I don't like referring people to really expensive restaurants. Mostly because I can't afford them and I'm too old to dine and dash. But also because it feels pretentious and obvious to do so. As in, "Well yeah, it was $200. It HAS to be good." But that isn't always the case my minimum-wage-working-friends. Sometimes you will spend a lot of money to eat at a fancy foo-foo spot and you'll leave saying "that was okay," or even worse, "that sucked ostrich nuts." Imagine spending your entire weekly salary on ONE meal and then being disappointed. Dios mio! I can say that I have had that experience on a number of occasions but that was not the case at Pierre's Restaurant (81600 Overseas Highway, Islamorada, FL 33036 Ph: 305-664-3225) in the enchanted waters of Florida's keys. First of all, Mr. Pierre gets a big bonus for architecture. A big, beautiful, colonial style mansion is the structure that attempts to contain the gastric warrior that is Pierre's. Upon entering you feel as though you are being welcomed into an exclusive club or West African retreat or maybe just a regular home if you are really wealthy and big homes no longer impress you. Once you are seated upstairs, where the dining room is (downstairs is home to the bar), you will be overlooking the majestic waters of this secluded haven and the mediocre service will take over! (On my night, the service was so-so, but I presume if you are a regular or if you "appear" wealthy, it may be much better.) Now that you've waited 15 minutes for water, get ready to stuff your carcass with the goodies that the Jones' are eatin' cause this place ain't playin'! For my appetizer I ordered a soft shell crab. I KNOW. You've had 'em, you are not impressed. Or you're from Maine or Baltimore and they are only good where YOU are from. Well kick me in the cock and call me Candice, because this soft shell crab was astounding. First of all, it was served HOT. Soft shell crab should always be served hot enough to have you hospitalized. Great meat, a flaky, crisp exterior, but not too doughy and thick and that sauce. Oh the sauce. You see, Pierre's is a French "influenced" eatery that also takes notes from it's south Florida locale, so every item has some unexpected twist. This isn't your standard soft shell crab plate. Back to the sauce- on the menu it reads "Honey mustard aioli" sauce will accompany your warm spinach, crab, and candied walnuts. What it should have said is, "sauce that will make you reevaluate your meaningless life." The sauce was one to remember. Subtle enough that it didn't take away from the meat, yet fiery enough to note it's presence. Almost like an actor that doesn't do too much, but still, you leave affected by his subdued performance. Like Steve Buscemi. Not like Jim Carrey. This sauce is no Jim Carrey. I really could have had 37 of these soft shell crab appetizers. Next up: Duck. I've never killed a duck in my life, but if all ducks tasted like this duck then I would be the spokesman for duck genocide. I've had some good duck, mind you, but Lucky Pierre makes a mouth watering, tender love treat that will leave you either extremely happy or violently angry (that you've never had it before). My date that night (some blonde) had the lobster tail, which was also superb, but, as she noted, lacked some type of starch, as it was only accompanied by peas and carrots - sort of an odd choice. Lastly, we left room for a Chocolate Bomb. No, that's not my clever way of describing what is essentially a chocolate souffle accompanied, of course, by a small serving of homemade vanilla ice cream and a little raspberry sauce, which I always hate (the raspberry sauce). It is actually on the menu as a "Chocolate Bomb" so it's Pierre's clever way of describing what is essentially a chocolate souffle accompanied by homemade vanilla ice cream and raspberry sauce. Inside the perfectly designed chocolate bomb flowed a darker, richer, hot, melted chocolate that could only be described as having the texture and taste of blood- the blood that must flow thru the veins of all the angels and saints in heaven. Its warm, delicate consistency moved me to what many would claim as a spiritual enlightenment. I was too embarrassed to say "bring me 6 more of those," but I wanted to. Again, this was not a cheap meal, but, as the old saying goes, neither is a good hooker.