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One of the most inspiring trends in New York City dining right now is the casually sophisticated seafood restaurant. Among them are Penny, which exudes warmth and coziness in its marbled setting; Quique Crudo in the West Village, small and sparkling; Strange Delight, which brings Cajun playfulness to Brooklyn’s Fort Greene; and the gorgeous, sometimes eccentric Smithereens in the East Village. Sure, on some level, chilled shrimp is just chilled shrimp, but there’s something new, even exciting, in the details: its size, shape, and presentation, the nuances of the sauce, the hint of bay leaf or juniper in the broth. At Crevette, a new West Village spot, chilled shrimp is pink, sweet, and slightly flirty, served with a subtle aioli and a bowl of chopped Calabrian chile that nods to the classic cocktail sauce but with a more Mediterranean, more feminine, and more sophisticated approach. The restaurant doesn’t so much participate in the seafood conversation as it elegantly celebrates it. Crevette is another place to enjoy calamari and beans, but oh, what calamari and beans!
Crevette is the third restaurant from Patricia Howard and London chef Ed Szymanski, whose previous projects, Dame and Lord’s, established them as restaurateurs who could transform simple dishes (English fish and chips; gastropub cuisine) into something both rigorous and creative. At Crevette, they’ve turned their sights beyond Britain to the varied coastlines of the surrounding area: this breathtaking corner of the south-east Bay of Biscay, which stretches from San Sebastian to Biarritz, the lush Côte d’Azur and sunny Liguria. (Crevette is French for “prawn”) The space previously occupied by the slightly ugly chrome and leather influencer magnet Holiday Bar has been boldly repurposed in the creamy whites, honeyed wood tones, and not-quite-pastels of a chic beach club—sorbet yellow, shell pink, melon orange, azure blue. The discreet, slightly elevated bar area seems designed primarily for eating rather than drinking (and offers one of the area’s most inviting spots for solo dining); corner banquettes create an intimate, slightly sexy atmosphere. The restaurant’s effect is not so much to recreate a regional aesthetic as to capture an ambient sensuality, a certain quality of light.
The menu includes petit aioli (left), mussels, and assorted crudo and raw fish.
As with the chilled shrimp, the dishes follow a principle of effortless elegance. A piece of Spanish tortilla is a textural feat, with delicate chunks of potato held in a bright yellow egg matrix that’s still slightly soft in the center; a snowy cap of sweet peekytoe crab dipped in a richly salted seaweed butter adds silkiness. Seafood rice, flavored with saffron, razor clams, and lobster, is somewhere on the genetic
Sourse: newyorker.com
