Not every part at Crevette is easy perfection. The Dover sole, an expensive fish that appears to be experiencing a renaissance in New York’s extra high-end eating rooms, arrives historically wearing capers and béarnaise, the physique de-finned and de-tailed, however in any other case intact. A server gave a quick set of verbal directions for D.I.Y. filleting, after which disappeared, leaving us to it. Dover sole is without doubt one of the simpler fish to take aside, however the process nonetheless requires each ability and confidence, of which I’ve solely the latter; fortunately, I used to be eating with a pal in possession of each, however his dexterous manipulations considerably anticlimactically revealed an underdone inside. I’m wondering if the restaurant is likely to be higher served doing the knife work themselves, offstage; then once more, the pared-down presentation would really feel at odds with the restaurant’s complete vibe of gentleman-fisherman exuberance. However that’s a minor quibble a few kitchen that in any other case exudes competence. The seafood-averse could be remiss to miss the hen, a good-looking presentation of a deboned half chook rubbed with spices that give the pores and skin a darkish, burnished oxblood hue. Every slice is topped with a dollop of vivid inexperienced persillade, vibrant with parsley; the meat rests atop a pool of jus so deep and sticky it flirts with demiglace. It arrives with a aspect plate of ultra-skinny frites that have been thrown into the fryer together with a handful of inexperienced herbs, a crunchy tangle purpose-made for mopping up the sauce. It’s one of many higher birds on the town, hiding in plain sight at a seafood restaurant.
In its playful sophistication and unapologetic refinement, Crevette speaks to one more pattern in New York eating: it’s a restaurant for grownups—prioritizing subtlety over flash, thoughtfulness over grandstanding. There’s no TikTok-bait visible spectacle, no straining for virality—simply focussed, engaging experience. And, because the climate warms, I believe Crevette will solely develop extra interesting. Quickly sufficient, your Instagram feed will start its annual transformation right into a carrousel of different folks’s European holidays—associates you haven’t spoken to since school instantly posting sun-drenched photographs from terrace eating places in Positano, colleagues someway having fun with three-hour lunches in Provence regardless of ostensibly having the identical quantity of P.T.O. as you. Sooner or later between Memorial Day and Labor Day, you’ll end up hunched over your telephone in your un-air-conditioned residence, scrolling via one more story of somebody’s “little boat day in Sicily,” and that’s when Crevette’s explicit charms will really feel most pressing. A sidewalk desk, a day spent lingering over a glass of pastis or a strikingly pretty (and non-alcoholic) saffron-white Negroni—it’ll virtually be sufficient to make you neglect that you simply’re caught in boring outdated New York.
Maybe probably the most illuminating merchandise on Crevette’s menu is the Sicilian sashimi: a plate of expertly sliced uncooked fish (on my visits, the lineup was yellowfin tuna, scallop, ocean trout, and hamachi) dressed with good olive oil, flaky sea salt, capers, and finely minced crimson onion and chives, and served with a wedge of lemon—a vital closing ingredient. It’s the form of dish that’s virtually embarrassingly easy, one thing you would completely make your self at residence, with entry to a superb fishmonger and a good knife. And but. That very same meeting consumed at your kitchen counter, along with your browning bananas within the fruit bowl and your laptop computer open on the sofa, merely can not compete. The preparation is remodeled not by some arcane method or secret ingredient however by the wizardry of context—the way in which it arrives after these chilled mussels with their punchy salsa brava, in a room of ethereal ceilings and candlelight and the starfield of road lamps and brake lights filtering via these large home windows, served on a superbly chilled plate by—and that is a very powerful half—somebody who isn’t you. As with all one of the best restaurant meals, you’re not paying for the recipe; you’re paying for the spell it casts when consumed on this explicit house, at this explicit take away from residence. Is that well worth the markup? Within the chilly mild of your residence, maybe not. However inside Crevette’s rigorously crafted universe, completely. ♦
