Go (to) Fish!

At a party for my friend Katie recently, the conversation turned, as if often does when I am involved, to oysters. Kaveri and Isaac, a couple we'd met for the first time an hour earlier, had already endeared themselves to Ed by speaking about Texas Hold 'Em with great enthusiasm. They endeared themselves to me when they told us about Fish. Fish was great, they said, but what really made it stand out was their Red, White, and Blue special. At any time during opening hours, we could lay down a mere $8 in exchange for six blue point oysters and a beer or a glass of house red or white wine. I wrote a while ago about slurping down $1 oysters at Barrio 47; indeed, this is a deal lots of restaurants have. But $8 for six oysters and wine sounded almost too good to be true. On Sunday night, famished after sitting through Lincoln (which is excellent), Ed and I decided to give Fish a try and headed to the West Village.

Fish in summer

The restaurant is long and skinny and smells like vinegar, but in a good way; I was put in mind of amber waves of delicious malt vinegar dripping down a piece of crispy cod instead of puddles of vinegar left over from cleaning. We'd shown up at around 6:00, very early for dinner by New York standards, and still most of the tables were already filled. I eyed an icy case displaying different shellfish waiting to be devoured as we waited for the hostess. I liked the place already. The atmosphere managed to be both bright and cozy at the same time. As we sat down, I noticed a small, white woodstove on the opposite wall. It was not lit, but it must make Fish a particularly welcoming retreat on very chilly winter days. As is the case in most New York restaurants, we were elbow to elbow with our neighbors and did our best to ignore their conversation. We were unable, however, to ignore the huge, succulent lobsters they were served minutes after we arrived, accompanied by corn on the cob and tasty looking seasoned fries.

Ed and I began, of course, with the Red, White, and Blue deal. We'd been burned once before in pursuit of cheap oysters - they ended up being tiny, flaccid, and bland. Nothing could have been farther from the plump, tender, glittering beauties that arrived on a bed of ice at Fish. We tried to savor them, but they were too good and disappeared with the flash of a fork. I spent ages trying to decide which of the appealing entrees to order, and in the end Ed and I decided on the same thing. I love shepherd's pie but, as it's hardly a vegetarian dish I haven't eaten one in ages. I was delighted to discover a lobster shepherd's pie on the menu, and even more delighted when I took my first bite. The mashed potatoes on top were whirled into elegant patterns and nicely browned just the slightest bit. Underneath was a rich layer of generous lobster chunks, peas, carrots, corn, and some sort of reddish sauce that I was too busy scarfing down to identify. Ed's pie was gone in what seemed like moments. In an act of herculean self control, I saved half of mine so that I could enjoy it for lunch the next day as well.

I proposed that we return to Fish every day, and Ed smiled and agreed. I think he thinks I am kidding.