Crave Ceviche Bar

There’s great potential for gimmicks at the candlelit, whitewashed eatery from chef Todd Mitgang (Kittichai), where everything—from shellfish to filet mignon—is, to borrow the menu phrasing, “ceviche’d.” But despite the stiflingly small environs (hungry hopefuls crowd the doorway to snag one of three tables or an uncomfortable bar stool), for the most part, the restaurant makes the concept work. A lightly seared cured strip steak arrived dripping in pomegranate juice, poised over an aggressively seasoned but delicious cardamom-laced cauliflower puree. The meal’s star dish was a reimagined lobster roll. Bread soaked in brown butter was topped with sweet lobster meat, which gets a kick from Meyer lemon marinade; in place of fries and slaw was a lattice of crunchy blue potato threads and a sprightly mango salad. The courses that followed made us nostalgic for Mitgang’s more successful dishes: a disastrous arctic char matched sliced fish with too-sweet strawberries and a dissonant truffle-scented champagne broth; a lamentable “classic” ceviche offered middling shrimp strewn with corn and hearts of palm, topped with ancho-chili–dredged popcorn. There was no dessert menu to help right the wrong, but we were more than satisfied with the petite cups of thick, buttery caramel studded with salt and Thai chilies that came with the check. Be kind and pay it quickly: After all, there are people waiting.