Hotel Emma

Roman and Williams, the fastidious geniuses behind New York’s High Line and Ace Hotel, nearly carry the entire industrial-chic trend by themselves, curating and exposing and repurposing with no apparent end in sight. And what a lucky find they have here: Pearl’s, a 19th-century brewery and one of the nation’s finest examples of Second Empire architecture. Now it’s the centerpiece of a sprawling, restored riverside gustatory complex with no less than 15 big-name restaurants, a Culinary Institute of America, and two farmers markets a week. Including, of course, Hotel Emma.

Emma who? Emma Koehler was the sort of fiery, no-nonsense dame that shouldered America’s pioneer tradition, once upon a time. In her day, she carried the floundering brewery through the unforgiving Prohibition years after her husband Otto died. In fact, believe it or not, there are actually three Emmas involved in the juicy, sordid backstory here; we’ll leave the rest of the sleuthing to you, as that’s part of the fun when it comes to a spot as historically rich as this.

146 rooms and 7 suites afford room for the design to subtly stretch; accommodations are split between the original brewery’s tower and contemporary digs in the River Cellars. Let it never be said that South Texans don’t know the meaning of luxury; besides Frette linens, Malin + Goetz bath amenities, and 48-inch HDTVs, a slew of tough-to-replicate touches elevate the experience far beyond the norm. Dark-wood and aged bronze accents. Freestanding, clawfoot tubs. Seersucker robes by Dos Carolinas. Spanish porcelain. Mesquite-furnished terraces with Redondo tile. If, upon opening the bespoke armoire, you’re not charmed by the wealth of upscale eats and signature margarita makings in the “icebox,” we don’t quite know what to tell you.

The tale continues in the sumptuously appointed public spaces, a throwback to bygone hotels of old, when hospitality was more central to civic functions. Supper, John Brand’s own New American brand, presents a flawlessly convivial and hyphenated dining experience: a farm-to-bistro, ingredient-driven tour-de-force. Then there’s Larder, a classic grocer if we’ve ever seen one, furnishing old-world provisions and sundries from within Pearl’s old cellars. Rounding out the noshes and glugs comes Sternewirth — if you’re wondering about the name, it’s the privilege brewers invoked in order to drink at work all day — wherein guests can savor exceedingly well-made cocktails and small plates in conversational clusters of seating beneath vaulted, 25-foot ceilings.