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Three
Fish Stories Steven Comfort |
I l l u s t r a t i o n : V i c t o r i a G u i n n 
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Takahachi
Takahachi is near-perfect sushi. Nestled into the recently gentrified Avenue A (at 5th Street), Takahachi has been an East Village staple for years. The restaurant is decorated in all white with natural-colored wood tables. The simple environment, classic menu with seasonal specials, affordable prices, and the most consistently excellent sushi in all of New York, makes Takahachi a definite destination. Takahachi sets my standard of sushi measurement, serving excellent renditions of my favorites: spicy tuna, seared tuna, out-of-this-world eel, soft shell crab roll, shrimp, flying fish roe, quail eggs, steamed spinach. All beyond compare. The sushi is incredibly fresh. Takahachi's fish buyers must have either the best eyes or the best connections in New York City's frenzied Fulton Street fish market - the mecca about 10 blocks south that fuels the City's year-round appetite for seafood. Not to mention sushi that travels less is the freshest. Takahachi buys large quantities daily, which also works in their favor at market. The freshness doesn't stop with the fish: the vegetables they serve are quality, too - even the sticky rice is better at Takahachi. |
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The restaurant has about 18 tables, and the sushi bar seats 12. Sitting at the sushi bar is an experience: the sushi masters' deft hands work magic with the multitude of fresh ingredients while their eyes gaze about contentedly, making sure everything is perfect for their customers. They rarely speak, and smile humbly as the patrons rave about their creations (often quite audibly from across the room). The Takahachi managers show their appreciation for their small legion of Village regulars by giving them a bottle of tasty plum wine as a thank-you gift each Christmas. No reservations are taken, which is typical for the neighborhood, and the regulars are responsible for the usual 20-minute wait from 6 - 9 p.m. daily. Takahachi stays open late-night, so if you've never had top-notch sushi at midnight after a few hours out on the town, you should take the opportunity and indulge. So why is Takahachi relegated to near-perfect sushi after so much praise? I've eaten there on countless weekends without incident, but the rumor is that Takahachi does not receive fresh deliveries every weekend, so to be safe, you may want to avoid Sundays. But at prices as reasonable as Takahachi's, those rumors are always going to exist. |
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Bo Brooks
No, it's not located at Harborplace (that's Phillips you're thinking of) and it's not close to Camden Yards. There's rarely a tourist to be seen at Bo Brooks because this restaurant is a local classic, well off the beaten path. You can order from a wide variety of seafood, but the reason for coming here is the steamed crabs. Sit down, loosen the belt-buckle, and settle back into a time warp to 1962. The bar at the entrance has about 30 years of cigarette smoke coating the walls, and the dining room has the charm of a revamped Denny's, but the folks at Bo Brooks know crabs like no one else on Earth. Baltimore, of course, claims crabs as its own specialty (hey, give it to 'em, they need it), and Bo Brooks is its local legend. They do a brisk business during crab season and a steady business throughout the year. Bo Brooks is the place to see Baltimore's movers-and-shakers sit down in jeans and bibs with close friends, order several dozen steamed crabs, a few pitchers of National Premium beer, and get busy picking apart Maryland Blues - all the while showing-off the finer points of backfin, lump, and claw-meat extraction to the less experienced. Typically, you'll catch the novices tending to the minor cuts on their fingers with wet naps, and wincing at the burn of the Old Bay spice sinking into their wounds. | |
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The service is friendly and knowledgeable about all things "Ballamore;" the local color and unique accent are especially strong at Bo's, hon. Barry Levinson has frequented the establishment for years, and it's clear that the scenes in Diner were based on Bo's: The blue-collar sensibilities that permeate the film are vestiges of the steel and harbor industries that have supported Baltimore's economy for decades. A remarkable thing happens when several dozen freshly steamed crabs arrive piled on a platter before a hungry group. The size of your appetite is almost irrelevant - you just keep eating until it's all gone. This truism, which has fascinated me for many years, seems to apply to oysters as well. I challenge the medical research community (where Baltimore' s a leader) to investigate this gastronomical phenomenon. Bo Brooks is the perfect testing ground. There's nothing especially pretty about Bo Brooks' environment, the wounded amateur crab eaters, or the hefty checks (a $40 tip for dumping 50 crabs in front of me and bringing more pitchers of beer to the table?), but there are no complaints because the crabs are just exceptional. Keep the cell phones in your pockets and check your attitudes at the door, Bo's is the place for serious crab eaters. | |||
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El Capi Navigante
You'd think you'd be able to eat terrific seafood anywhere on the beautiful Caribbean island of Cozumel (located about 90 miles due west of Cuba), but it's not that easy. Adequate fresh seafood abounds, but the really good stuff is difficult to find despite the influx of tourists. Cozumel is a small island, about 35 miles long and 4 miles wide, and only three percent of it is commercially developed. Cancun is only an hour away, so most of the spring break tequila-swillers bypass Cozumel, leaving it a nice little secret. Any docked cruise ship crowds eat dinner on-board, so Cozumel has never really been able to support many top-notch restaurants (the divers and sport-fishing enthusiasts usually settle for traditional Mexican fare, which is excellent). El Capi Navigante, just blocks away from the center of town, serves some of the finest seafood you'll ever eat. You'll know you've found El Capi Navigante when you see the enormous propeller in front (there'll probably be a small line on the street during the American winter as no reservations are accepted). The pleasant dining room is simply decorated with gorgeous antique prints of various fishes. Cozumel's waters are internationally famous among fishermen, and El Capi Navigante's dinner fare was probably still swimming at breakfast. That kind of freshness is tough to beat, especially when coupled with experienced chefs. | |
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I had the delight of dining with a group of ten, so we ordered a wide variety of El Capi Navigante's tried and true dishes and the specials (I tasted as many as I could!). I started with a magnificent ceviche of bonita, shrimp, and conch, full of mysterious chiles and native onions, ingredients that are hard to come by in the US. Central and South American limes (limons) are much stronger than those harvested in the States, and they help cook the seafood in the ceviche, adding a unique flavor. My entree was a gorgeous portion of grilled octopus, succulently tender and flavorful. I should have ordered two portions though because I had to use over half of my entree to trade for buttery mouthfuls of grouper, swordfish, tuna, squid, and conch. Desert was a lavishly presented banana flambé. The staff made a grand tableside production out of it (in classic five-star-hotel tuxes with an appropriate nautical theme). The rum flames and burning sugary smells wafting from dish, make this syrupy, slightly alcoholic desert the perfect finish to an outstanding seafood feast. Seafood is a way of life on Cozumel as fishing is the second largest industry, after tourism. I spent a few days in the lagoons bonefishing and out on the ocean deep-sea fishing. As it turned out, our trusty deep-sea captain sold fish to El Capi Navigante and gave me some interesting tips on fish stew. He pointed out that, like all men on Cozumel, he had been eating fish stew all of his life, made of fish, shrimp, conch, and vegetables. (I had not.) He went on to point out that he watches little or no TV. (I watch quite a bit.) Finally, he made the next logical step that lots of fish stew and little time spent in front of the television is good for family life and that "all of the men on Cozumel have at least four children." (I have none.) I couldn't argue with the captain (you're not supposed to anyway), and he recommended strongly that I increase my consumption of fish stew: "It'll make you strong in bed, like a cannon!" (I told him that I'd need a girlfriend first, to test that theory.) My only regret about El Capi Navigante is that we discovered this pearl of a restaurant on one of the last days of our vacation. The prices are so reasonable that we would have eaten there several times over the course of our stay. If you don't make it to Cozumel, you should take the captain's advice: Turn off that TV and work on your fish stew. |
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Steven Comfort is Fillet's roving restaurant reviewer. He likes his job. | |
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