Green Point Seafood and Oyster Bar—the new restaurant from the crew behind Beverley’s—has attracted eager customers to its Knox Street dining room. Maybe we’re all lured in by the big pink neon shrimp on the exterior, or maybe it’s the promise of Beverley’s consistent polish being applied to a menu of oysters, fish, shrimp, and crab cakes.
After two early visits, I see a whole lot of potential—and a few things to be worked out. Right now, as the kitchen gets its sea legs and the staff gets into a groove, lunch is the best time to try this newcomer.
At dinner, we found a few things to like, notably what might be the city’s second-best crab cake and a tuna tartare with chile crisp folded in. We also found some technical difficulties: our crudo plate had no two pieces of fish cut into identically-sized pieces, some skin-on, some skin-off. Dinnertime’s noise level is unacceptable, too. When Beverley’s first opened, it was maybe the loudest restaurant in Dallas; the team learned its lesson and installed dozens of sound-absorbing tiles across the ceiling. At least I thought they’d learned the lesson, until Green Point opened without those tiles. At its loudest point—between the bar and the right-hand dining area—my phone found the new restaurant peaking at 90 decibels, about the level you experience while operating a gas lawn mower, blender, or hair dryer. Nobody likes a hair dryer on the dinner table.
To see and hear Green Point at its best, dodge the crowds and come in at lunch, when it stays true to its roots as a classy-casual neighborhood seafood joint. The menu is almost as long as at dinner, including whole fish preps, but the kitchen also relaxes with some darn good sandwiches.
Admittedly, I am one of Texas’ biggest fans of a fish sandwich. I spent a month eating them for a list feature last year. But that gives me the expertise necessary to tell you this: Green Point is hitting home runs with its fish sandwiches. You could even make your meal a sandwich flight, if you want, by ordering its “three little fried grouper sandwiches” as an appetizer. Morsels of grouper are battered, fried, topped with coleslaw and pickle slices, and served on slider buns. They’re tall mini sandwiches—it’s a generous portion of fish—but they’re wonderful. The only downside is that number, three sandwiches: if you’re a party of two or four, your waiter will ask if you “need” a fourth.
My favorite lunch sandwich here is the tuna melt, the kind of modest little deli (or childhood) dish you might think is a gimmick. But Green Point fully commits. The tuna salad is almost all fresh fish, celery, and red onion (stop thinking about Subway’s mayo mess), the cheddar is good, and the bread is butter-grilled and crisp. This is one of life’s simple joys, executed with seriousness.
The blackened grouper sandwich follows up on the promise of the appetizer “little” versions. On the full-sized version, the grouper isn’t fried, just coated in spice rub. From the side, the sandwich actually looks like a burger. The spice tells, and it plays well with the kitchen’s cabbage slaw.
Green Point’s fries made me rethink my fry opinions. They’re kind of soft and limp, but in an endearing way that kept me eating more. Maybe it was because they still had some textural difference between inside and edge, maybe it was the salt level, or maybe it’s the oil used in the fryer. Whatever the reason, I might be turning into a Soft Fry Guy.
There is a lot of room for Dallas restaurateurs to grow and play in the space of the good middle-class seafood joint. We have mariscos, crawfish boils, and shrimp cocktails covered; we also have options for deluxe $100 per person seafood towers and lobster nights. Green Point will play a useful role in our fishtank. It’s more upscale than Dive Coastal Cuisine, more consistently on-target than Montlake Cut, and less scandal-ridden than Hudson House. And Green Point is especially appealing if you’re craving an elegant but unpretentious seafood meal at lunchtime. Follow the neon shrimp.
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