Truluck's Seafood, Steak, and Crab House

Truluck's hooks downtown with fresh seafood

By Dale Rice
American-Statesman Restaurant Critic
September 12, 2002

It's more than a seasonal thing. Storms, shipping schedules and broken promises help steer the weekly menu at Truluck's.

While the upscale Texas chain is known for its stone crab legs, which it harvests in season at its own fisheries near Na.... More

Truluck's hooks downtown with fresh seafood

By Dale Rice
American-Statesman Restaurant Critic
September 12, 2002

It's more than a seasonal thing. Storms, shipping schedules and broken promises help steer the weekly menu at Truluck's.

While the upscale Texas chain is known for its stone crab legs, which it harvests in season at its own fisheries near Naples, Fla., and in the Bay of Campeche off the Mexican coast, it is the other fish that tow the menu week after week.

Some come from the Texas Gulf, others from the East and West coasts, a mix determined by freshness and the vagaries of consumer rejection.

"I can't sell swordfish ¿ I've tried," says Truluck's corporate chef Johnny Carino. "But I can sell Hawaiian (seafood) with no problem."

Once the diners' palates are overcome, Carino has to grapple with delivery six days a week from wholesalers, a regimen needed to keep the kitchen stocked with fresh seafood.

Sometimes Carino even buys from individual fishermen, if they can make a commitment to ship their fish regularly by air for at least a week.

Then there's one other thing: the effort to keep most of the seafood entrees under $20. All that work is paying off at Truluck's, which has become a reliably good seafood spot.

The bacon-wrapped shrimp ($23.95) were seasoned, encircled with smoked bacon and grilled. The tender, flavorful shrimp were served around a mound of fresh sautéed spinach that was topped with a sweet mango chutney. Underlying the dish was a rich, spicy, smoky mushroom-chipotle cream sauce, made by smoking portobello, button and shiitake mushrooms that were later cooked in white wine.

The combination packed in a single bowl a lot of taste sensations ¿ salty bacon, sweet mango, bitter spinach, smoky mushrooms, spicy chipotle ¿ that varied enjoyably from bite to bite.

One of Truluck's signature items, the hot and crunchy trout ($19.95) mixes fewer flavors, using sweetness and spice to accent corn-flake-coated trout. The latter comes from the crunchy coating, which includes fresh red pepper flakes, and the jalapeños in the accompanying mango aioli. The mango provides the sweet note, both in the aioli and in the fruit purée that is drizzled over the fish, which rests on a bed of rice or Parmesan mashed potatoes.

The appetizer of crab cakes ($12.95) relies heavily on fresh crab meat harvested off the Texas coast. The crab makes up three-quarters of the cakes, which are enriched with heavy cream and coated with Japanese breadcrumbs before being sautéed. They were served with a saffron aioli and a fresh fruit salsa.

Even the calamari ($8.95) gets a special treatment, soaking in buttermilk before being quickly fried to keep it tender. The calamari are served with a mustard sauce and a hot salsa.

The Sonoma greens ($5.25) provide a simple palate cleanser, with the salad dressed in a vinaigrette made with rice wine vinegar and lavender honey imported from France.

Desserts, on the other hand, provide a less-than-sophisticated touch, albeit a popular one. The slice of carrot cake ($6.95), a four-layer confection made in-house with cream cheese frosting, is the size of a quarter of some cakes ¿ far more than enough for two to share. While they may be tasty, the colossal, clunky desserts, which have been a trademark since the first Truluck's opened 10 years ago, undercut the cultivated image the restaurant has attained.

Still, that's a relatively small issue for a restaurant that has overcome significant problems in the two years since it opened the Austin location in the Warehouse District.

During the remodeling, a domed ceiling was installed over the central part of the large, one-room dining area, creating a sound magnification system that increased the noise to such a level that dining there was unpleasant.

The restaurant, which spent tens of thousands of dollars to rectify that, then faced service and food problems in its next annual review.

Each time, the restaurant's management treated the criticism in a positive way, pledging to make improvements ¿ a relatively rare response.

This time, food and service were on the mark, and, while Truluck's will never be a quiet place, the sound has been diminished to a tolerable level.

That means this lively, crowded restaurant is now concentrating its effort where it counts: hauling in the freshest fish it can net for Austin diners.

Brief