Flight of Fancy
Chef John Fraser Spreads his Wings at Dovetail
by John Mariani

I was a big fan of young chef John Fraser when he was, briefly, chef at Compass, on the Upper West Side, and I knew he was going to soar soon.

Now, at Dovetail (whose New Age-y name means "to join together in harmony"), he is spreading his wings and making the cuisine wholly his. At the same time he is adding to the ever-increasing number of fine restaurants in the neighborhood that makes the prospect of dining before theater, ballet or opera as tantalizing as sitting down to a leisurely dinner after those theater-goers bound from their tables at 7:30 p.m. And if you've just left the Museum of Natural History at closing time or at an event, Dovetail is just a few steps away across the street.

Let's get the unpleasantries out of the way: Dovetail is a singularly brown restaurant, the only other color provided by the EXIT sign. The brick walls would help the dreary look of the place but they have been paneled with more brown wood, and the lack of tablecloths on more brown wood makes this a lifeless room indeed, enlivened only by the sound of people obviously enjoying their meal and wine. Some well-known designer supposedly did the place, but were I the owner I'd run right out and buy a claw hammer and rip down the wood panels and install some colorful artwork. Also, at night, the lighting is considerably low.

That said, I highly recommend the food at Dovetail. You will undoubtedly receive an amuse or two: On the night of my visit it was a lovely little rabbit rollatine, an ahi tuna cube, and a very fishy vodka gelée with salmon roe (hence the fishiness) with fried capers. They also serve a terrific cornbread with white cheddar in it, so watch you don't overdo it.

The richness, yet lightness, of the clam chowder with chorizo made it one of my favorite soups of the year, while Fraser's take on the now ubiquitous pork belly was a fine idea–served with porcini, kale and a hen's egg. His potato gnocchi is lavished sensuously with veal short ribs, foie gras butter and prunes–not something an Italian chef would bless but a delicious dish anyway. Combining hollandaise with sea scallops is also a bright idea, because the sauce, tinged with fennel, brings out the sweetness of the seafood, further enhanced with the tang of grapefruit and the texture of almonds.

Atlantic cod is first seared and served with gigante beans, rock shrimp, and the lovely aromatics of saffron in a nicely seasoned bath. Of the meats I liked very much a rack and leg of lamb with Indian spices, tabouleh and yogurt, considerably more delicate than what you'll find at most Mediterranean restaurants around town, and pistachio-crusted duck with endive, celeriac and truffles.
  
There was a long, long wait for Vera Tong's desserts the night I visited, but they were worth it: a quince and pineapple crumble with buttermilk ice cream and walnuts; brioche bread pudding with bananas, rum vanilla ice cream, and the inspired addition of bacon brittle; and chocolate caramel fondant with Earl Grey tea streusel, hazelnuts and yogurt sorbet.

I could certainly enjoy Fraser's cuisine blindfolded, but when you are paying high-end money for such wonderful food, it sure would be nice to do it in a more appealing dining room than Dovetail is now.

John Mariani is well known for his frank and poignant writing in Esquire, Wine Spectator, Diversion and the Harper Collection. He is author of The Encyclopedia of American Food & Drink, The Dictionary of Italian Food and Drink and co-author, with his wife, of the Italian-American Cookbook.