If it’s been a few years since your last visit to Phoenixville, you may barely recognize the place. Less than 10 years ago, it was a sleepy, leafy Chester County town filled with shabby-chic Victorian homes, nondescript shopping centers and little in the way of dining beyond the Vale Rio diner and the clubby Columbia Bar and Grille.
Now, the sights, sounds and smells of suburban revival swirl along Bridge Street and into the heart of town. The revived Columbia sports a fresh coat of paint, and coffee bars and antique shops have settled in next to the old dive bars and tiny groceries. An Iron Hill brewpub now sprawls on the north side of town, while the famed Colonial Theatre anchors the downtown for a Manayunk-flavored revitalization that’s drawing yuppies and hipsters alike.
Along the way, several very good restaurants have settled into Phoenixville and, as in the early days of Manayunk’s revival, have made it into a foodie destination. One of the staples is the Black Lab Bistro.
The seven-year-old restaurant sports the exposed brick walls, simple wooden furniture and folk art decorations that you might expect from a BYOB in a suburban setting. Shoulder-high room dividers break up the large storefront into smaller, cozier spaces. But on a recent evening visit, a large, bright yellow neon sign cut the romantic vibe with a bug light-glow better suited to snacking on the Ocean City boardwalk.
After an awkward wait for service, we began dinner with fried artichoke hearts stuffed with Genoa salami, pepperocini and bread crumbs, a toothsome take on carciofi alla Romana drizzled with a roasted tomato cream. Next, twin tartare timbales offered bracingly fresh contrasts of raw fish — one of Scottish salmon paired with a tart cucumber salad, the other of ahi tuna matched with a sweet seaweed salad.
Pasta and risotto play a large role in chef Guy Clauson’s menu. We chose a half-portion of lobster mac ‘n’ cheese, studded with bright bombs of sweet lobster meat; the dish suffered, though, from pasta elbows that were overcooked and limp. Garlicky jumbo prawns served over a proper risotto Milanese fared much better; the huge prawns were perfectly fresh and the intoxicating aroma of saffron rice swirled around our table invitingly. But here we encountered our second service glitch: We were not halfway through our appetizers when our feckless waiter brought the pasta
course to our table and unapologetically expected us to make room for it. The timing overlap recurred between the pasta and entrée courses, and our waiter remained unconcerned, though the dining room was only half-full that night.
Despite the uninspired service, the stellar entrées redeemed our dinner. There was a thick slab of pan-seared Hawaiian butterfish, perched atop a dense hillock of carrot mousse and ringed with streams of lime-ginger beurre blanc and basil oil, with a pile of red cabbage to finish the rainbow presentation. Clauson seemed to have extracted every possible ounce of sweet earthiness from his carrots to fashion the mousse, a stunning accompaniment to the fish; and the interplay between lime, ginger, basil and carrots was unforgettable. From a large menu of nightly specials we also chose a buffalo steak with a chipotle chocolate glaze. The large, charred slab of meat arrived in a complex cloud of smoky coffee and cocoa scents. But what a surprise lay within: beneath the almost-black glaze, I sliced off gorgeous pink ribbons of steak, expertly grilled and perfectly complemented by a glaze as intense as any Mexican mole.
Desserts were also impressive. A simple, homey crisp of apples, cranberries and raisins was surprisingly mellow, melting with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Blueberry crème brûlée, matched with a dollop of lemon curd and topped with big berries, was refreshingly light and evocative of summer. Only the coffee was ordinary — a poor match for such high-caliber desserts.
The Black Lab Bistro symbolizes emerging Phoenixville to a tee: eclectic, a little rough around the edges, but comfortable, evolving and worth a few more visits.

Black Lab Bistro

248 Bridge St., Phoenixville

610-935-5988