The John Dory

When I'm really starving and need to be satiated in that Winter-mehs sort of way I always turn to beef. (Did you read last week's post? If not, get thee to the bottom of this page for the Meh definition). I know that's partly because I need iron that abounds in red meat. But it's also because many beef dishes are dressed is heartier and more indulgent manners than their flimsy fish counterparts. Fortunately, Ken Friedman and chef April Bloomfield's newish John Dory on 10th avenue brings a warm wealth of heft and decadence to my swimming friends, in a congenial if kookily-outfitted spot.

Like a slim sailboat docked between two giant yachts, the John Dory is crunched between the behemoths of Craftsteak and Del Posto; many times I saw people wander in thinking it was a bar for one of these eateries. Fortunately, the Dory doesn't take itself too seriously to be bothered by that. Don't be fooled, though: There is serious talent and ambition happening here, not only evident in the nuanced menu, but also in touches like a thoughtful wine list, a tasty amuse bouche of fried parsnip strips with fish spread, bread service and cutlery changes. But with piles of aquatic tzotchkies and a huge aquarium stocked with neon fish, the narrow hall with just a few tables and short bar is also something like wandering into a blitzed sailor's den. It's a sea of interesting contrasts.

All told, it makes you feel slightly dizzy and overwhelmed, but giddy, too; a feeling similar to that of eating a giant rib-eye, creamed spinach and a molten chocolate cake. And that's not the end to the steak-heavy comparisons. Bloomfield's gastropub roots (the awesome Spotted Pig) are felt in almost every dish; this is not a spot for most calorie counters, unless you stick to the crudo section. Otherwise, get ready to dig in. Case in point, the must-try oyster pan-roast appetizer. Disguised by it's container of a wee tea cup, a rich explosion of cream, butter and garlic drown plump, briny oysters. As if that weren't enough to happily clog an artery, the soupy decadence is accompanied by a toast layered with pads of sea urchin uni butter that melt in your mouth, leaving a fat, oceany taste. Ridiculous. Even the escarole salad with creamy anchovy dressing and a generous douse of acid from lemon turns healthy into holy cow, although in a slightly overpowering way. Unfortunately my favorite appetizer, the cod milt, has since been replaced by monkfish liver. If it ever comes back, try to get over the fact that this dish is basically cod sperm. Just like the sweetbreads it resembles, it has a unique creamy inside complimented by the pan-fried crispy outside. Parsley, lemon and capers provide balance.

If you do choose the crudo, Bloomfield offers simplicity like a maine lobster with aioli. Oysters are as superb as they should be in a seafood restaurant, and are accompanied by interesting sorts of toppers. Both choices are lovely but unless you die for oysters, head to the power players.

The entreé section continues the starters' theme of generous sauces and spices, but also offers a few purist dishes like the tasty, whole sea bass. It's grilled and stuffed with a rosemary and anchovy pesto (can you tell Bloomfield digs salty anchovies?). It's simple and safe but the herbacious stuffing adds zest and fragrance. One notch up on the stuff-yourself list is a creative combination of squid plumped with rice and chorizo. It reminds me of an inside out paella and has a bit of heat, and a great mix of textures between the fluffy rice, crunchy chorizo and tender seafood. If you want to head for gut-buster territory, try the fish stew or pan roasted cod. The first is a spicy, oily conglomeration of a tomato base, shellfish and crunchy toast—a real winter winner. I just wish the slices of fish in it had been a bit more cared for instead of scrap-like. The cod on the other hand was flawless both times I tried it. Dense white fish adorned with snappy artichoke chips (yum), a kicker of chili and creamy mantecato is weighty and fresh at the same time. I definitely felt like this could beat out a steak without much problem. A side of spiced carrots with a Mediterranean twist from yogurt sauce rounds out any of the fish dishes, but stay away from the lumpy yawn of caponata.

Unfortunately the plain arctic char a la plancha couldn't even compare to the other main courses, unless you add in the pillowy steak fries that accompany it. Next time I go (if I feel like bottoming out and truly hating myself afterward) I might try the fried fluke and chips. It's now on the lunch menu and offered many times as a special at night. A man sitting next to me chomping on his flaky, golden portion looked blissful and a bit hallucinatory. So much love could kill a girl, but I might just do it.

I recommend you check out the dessert list, even though after one of Bloomfield's intense appetizers AND entreés, your belly is about to explode. Try anyway: The apple tart with cinnamon ice cream is one of my favorite versions of this classic. The crust is buttery and sweet, the apples have just a hint of strength still in them, and the bulb of ice cream is uncanny in its complimentary flavor. Or for those who love rugalach, try the Eccles cake, a currant stuffed pastry with a wedge of cheese. The small berries inside are soaked in port, adding depth to the flaky crust and foil to the cheese's yummy stink. Next time, I'll be wading up to the treacle pudding for two, which looks like a wobbly, custardy lump but from what I've seen also inspires smiles upon first bite.

Now, it's true. Every time I leave John Dory, I'm both a bit tipsy from wall-accessory–overload and my pants are curiously digging into my stomach where they didn't before. And yes, at times Bloomfield's affinity for butter, cream, garlic and anything rich and naughty can be taken too far and can come off as heavy handed. When just a touch of restraint is used, it helps the sublime from tottering into silly. But regardless, I leave jolly and stuffed, finally enjoying the cold air whipping my satisfied face. A fish shack with the soul of a chophouse. And what a soul that is. Yar.

The John Dory
Rating: Excellent
Address:85 10th Avenue between 15/16th street
Phone: 212.929.4948