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“The Harrison”
Occasion: | Cuisine: | Area: | Cost: | Rating: |
Night Out | New American | Tribeca | Moderate | Great |
Brian’s fish technique is flawless. Fluke ($24) was pan-roasted so the skin was crisp and the flesh was moist and sweet. What’s more, it comes with lovely accessories: pillowy herb gnocchi, and a sauté of baby spinach, maitake mushrooms, and preserved lemon. (There’s that smooch. Bingo.) Local brooktrout ($26) is sliced in two, and filled with a sort of pesto made from shallots and almonds, and then tied up and seared to a nutty buttery finish, and served on a bed of mustard greens with two purees—one of red cabbage and one of spinach, with a side of silky almond puree. The grilled grouper ($25) is snowy white, and meaty and oily in texture, the right choice to stand up to briny olives, caramelized onions, slivered potatoes, and a gentle sauce made of anchovies.
Brian can also make the humble chicken seem like a Kobe steak. He serves a golden crispy-skinned bone-in breast ($23) with meat so juicy and tender, it almost made me cry. This dish should make the chicken of the world proud to be poultry. The beautiful little bird comes with a great mess of brussel sprouts tossed with roasted chestnuts and surrounded by a sauce made from a secret shipment of Hungarian paprika he gets from his friend’s mother who lives there. We also tried a special that night, a miraculous dish known as chicken fried duck breast—the meat was pounded thin and breaded like a Weinerschnitzel, cloaked in a crunchy crust, with a side of lignonberry relish and potato puree. It was terrific. On the side, we ordered the quark spaetzle, which was pan-fried so it has a bit of crunch, and it was just deliriously good. I kept eating it, straight from the bowl, not letting anyone else near it. I clearly have an addiction to it. (Great, another food addiction. Like I really need another one.) But then Marcus was right there with me, putting up a good fight for his fair share, mumbling in a dream like state about how it reminded him of his childhood in Cologne, Germany. He was smitten. Note to Stacey: make your man spaetzle.
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