Lure Fish Bar needs to change it’s name. Maybe Lure Raw Bar. Or Lure Party Boat. Either would be more appropriate, and here are a few reasons why. The cooked fish entrées at Lure are almost all disappointing. Generally, they suffer from a lack flavor despite potent accompaniments like ponzu sauces, dashi glazes, and red curry broths. The raw bar, on the other hand, is a large selection of high quality seafood and is worthy of the namesake. I’m throwing Lure Party Boat out there because this place kicks out the jams like it’s 1992. Hit after hit from MTV’s Party To Go albums, slick yacht décor, and sushi on the menu make it feel like you’re at sea with Arsenio Hall or one of the Wayans brothers. Don’t get us wrong…all in all we like Lure Fish Bar Party Boat. The service is great and earns them some points but a few tweaks on those entrées would bump up our rating into the more than respectable range. We’ll come back a few more times, if only to hear some Salt-N-Pepa and Heavy D on the playlist.
I can’t make up my mind on how I feel about BLT Fish. We’ve had an up and down relationship over the years. It all started with a bad experience – a $90 whole red snapper that didn’t taste right going in and had our entire table paying the price on the way out. On the other hand, staying away from the whole fish and going heavy on octopus and scallops has led to some enjoyable meals here recently. Quite the conundrum, I know. Downstairs, I feel like their whole “fish shack” thing is contrived. A big sailfish mounted on the wall doesn’t make you authentic. Upstairs, it’s hard to see past the extreme price tag that often leaves me angry and bitter even though the food is indeed quite tasty.
BLT’s restaurants are new school upscale, sleek dining halls whose service most closely resembles that at a white tablecloth, fine dining establishment. While this formula has resulted in a successful chain of meat markets and steakhouses, it just doesn’t translate well with fish. I’m fine with paying money for good seafood, but oysters and octopus in such a refined environment just doesn’t do it for me. I like my pricey seafood a bit more laid-back, with more character and less Blue Water Grill, if you know what I mean. If my parents want to mess with some upscale fish action then sure, I’ll go to BLT Fish again. If I’m paying, my money’s going to The Mermaid Inn, Mary’s Fish Camp, or Marlow & Sons.
Looking for a unique spot to impress on a First/Early In The Game date? If she likes wine and raw fish, Desnuda is your jam. This dark, South American inspired wine and ceviche bar has just eighteen seats, all at the bar. It’s intimate and low key, and the fish is fresh and priced right. There is no kitchen, which means you’ll have a front row seat as your food is prepared by a man who will also double as your bartender. Hopefully audience participation is something you’re comfortable with, as you may be called on to help your chef/bartender as he practices his “ghetto molecular gastronomy”. Ever seen someone smoke an oyster with a gravity bong made from a Sprite bottle? Didn’t think so. We’ll bet your date hasn’t either. This block of 7th St. is home to a lot of hot spots (see Porchetta, Luke’s Lobster, Caracas, Pylos), so let’s agree to keep Desnuda as it is – slightly under the radar, and your new secret weapon date spot.
Braeburn opened about a year ago, and a deluge of glowing write ups quickly followed. Curious and admittedly behind the ball on this one, we recently decided to make our first visit. The menu is all farm-to-market. Or is it farm-to-table? Or is it market-to-table? I’m not sure what the current terminology is, but the food all comes from local farms. Now, let us be clear and state that we love the local food movement. We love farms, we love farmers, we love farmer’s markets, and we love hearing that the chef killed our pork chop with his own bare hands merely hours ago. But we also love it when all that local stuff adds up to a phenomenal meal. Unfortunately in Braeburn’s case, it didn’t. The location is amazing, the room is comfortable and beautiful, and all the aesthetic details have been meticulously tended to. Unfortunately the food just isn’t going to blow your mind. Don’t get us wrong, nothing we ate was bad by any means … but nothing was great either. One of our friends at the table who works in the food industry put it perfectly: the stage is set for an amazing chef to come in and knock this place out of the park. In the meantime, throw on your TOMS and remind yourself when you eat there that you are doing a solid for some local farmers.
Docks former location on the Upper West Side used to be my family’s go-to Mother’s Day spot. Mostly out of convenience, but also because my little cousin Jane, who you met in the Cookies Across The City video, loves inhaling their lobster. We went again this year, only to find that a new Accademia Di Vino has taken over the space. Who gave that joint the go-ahead to breed?
Instead of ripping apart another Accademia establishment (avoid like the plague), I figured we’d drop a little arial font on Docks lone surviving East Side establishment and the site of the Betty White/Jay-Z SNL after-party we went to a couple of weeks ago. Out of respect to family tradition and my Grandmother, who used to frequent the UWS Docks, I won’t rip it apart. I’ll also refrain from objectifying the rear end in this review, something Grandma tells me I do too much.
Docks is the furthest thing from a hip, happening restaurant. It’s packed with old people and the after work crowd. It serves a purpose for the average Grand Central commuter who isn’t baller enough to get into Cipriani, but still wants to spend big money on mediocre food. When dinner at The Cheesecake Factory is the norm, I guess Docks looks pretty good. If you find yourself in the area and hungry for a quick beer and some raw bar action, stick to the basics (oysters, clam chowder, grilled tuna) and you’ll be fine. Just don’t get ambitious and start pissing money away on steaks. We could think of a few better ways to drop forty bucks.
Photo Credit: Shanna Ravindra/Grub Street
