By Amy McCarthy
By Scott Reitz
By Scott Reitz
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Alice Laussade
By City of Ate
Instead of litigation we get Muscovy duck, a beautiful display of fanned almond crepes cut into shark's teeth, strips of grenadine-poached pear as red as taillights and slices of duck breast arranged to accentuate the layered symmetry. It is sordid. The crepe shingles are hard, cold and stale. The pears can't help but remind you of past fruitcakes rejuvenated with douses of brandy to keep them relevant for another year. The duck...well, the duck is gray and hard and chewy as beef jerky.
Bass sarabachi is much better. Pan-roasted striped bass in a sake-soy reduction is moist and hearty, layered with strips of fennel and rice cake boosted by pungent sake-soy.
The Fish has a wine room too, a futuristic cubicle with glass wine cabinets you'd bet were bulletproof. This temperature-controlled transparency starts from just above the waist and stretches all the way to the ceiling. It's furnished with a long table and red leather chairs. "You can reserve it if you want," says a manager.
Maybe what the Fish needs is a good dose of fugu, prepared with just enough poison to tingle the tongue and lips. That would be some kiss of death, just the kind that could awaken this fish.
636 McKinney Ave. in West Village, 214-522-0071. Open 11 a.m.-2 p.m. Monday-Friday, 5 p.m.-11 p.m. Monday-Wednesday, 5 p.m.-midnight Thursday and Friday, noon-midnight Saturday, 5 p.m.-11 p.m. Sunday. $$$