Atlantic Grill

Every young and underpaid food-lover relishes a parent or similarly benevolent relative visiting from out of town, simply because it means all those restaurants you've walked by with a deep, heart-felt longing can be indulged in guilt-free. Of course, there are other, more important reasons. But let's focus on this one.

It was my sister, not I, who had her heart set on Atlantic Grill. She has good taste. As soon as I stepped into the seafood restaurant I found reason to not complain about the trek to the Upper East Side. The interior is inviting and warmly lit. One walks off the street right into the belly of the beast, as it were. It is not the host who immediately greets you, but the marble-topped bar to your left and a few cocktail tables to your right.

The main dining area is partially concealed from the entrance and wraps around a corner, which means that the room is made out to be far more intimate than it truly is. This visual trickery is continued in the dining room by thin metal columns that puncture and partition the space, although I imagine their purpose is more structural than aesthetic. It doesn't quite work though, and the dining room feels more like a banquet hall than a New York restaurant. Perhaps that was the idea, but I felt it was too large a space for an intimate meal.

Of course, the real culprit for that may have been our party of 4 in a booth for 8. I spent the meal treading foam and upholstery on the on the far side of the booth, leaning over our massive table and trying to catch the conversation against the jingly din of the rich masticating.

We went on a Sunday evening, which on the Upper East appears to be the time to take the fur and jewels and new face out for a walk. Or perhaps that's every night. Judging by the initial snoot of our waiter, Chris, it would seem he has had to acclimatize to his gilded habitat. But he proved to be an agreeable and wholly competent server once he discovered his table possessed neither airs nor a lack of humor.

Someone at Atlantic Grill has his or her Japanese lingo down pat. We began the festivities with three shared maki rolls. Maki, I found out, means 'rolled sushi.' Which made me wonder why I couldn't recall seeing it used anywhere else. Then I remembered. In grocery stores, the Indian meal 'Palak Paneer' becomes Kashmir Spinach. We tend to like our food Americanized and 'sushi' as a general label for sashimi, maki and, why not, all Japanese food is much simpler, even if it isn't true.


While AG willingly donned the yoke of Japanese linguistics, it seems to have bucked a few traditions in the maki themselves. While delicious and wonderfully distinctive, each had one or two twists on the usual fare. The nearest in the photograph is the Yellowtail-Jalapeno Roll. This had fresh, perfectly ripe avocado in it and was wrapped not in nori - seaweed paper - but in soy paper, which has a chewier texture and a more mild flavor. The jalapeno did not overpower the yellowtail but rather drew out its subtle flavors.

The next roll is the Spicy Tuna Roll, which is ubiquitous on any menu and done exceptionally well here. For once it was genuinely spicy, and the spiciness wasn't there just to disguise the age of the fish. The tuna had the firm yet submissive texture of a fresh, quality catch. Flanked by its two plated companions, those embellished rebels, the roll came across as simple, traditional and elegant, which I've never found it to be before.

The third maki roll was a special that night, and good enough for a reorder as a small main course. It was a somewhat more traditional riff on the Philadelphia roll. Instead of being smoked, the salmon was deep fried as tempura - in an egg and rice flour batter - and rolled with avocado and cream cheese in the same soy paper. I wasn't convinced that the salmon was better cooked through and served still warm, but the combined flavor was excellent and each ingredient did justice to the other.



With excellent timing, Chris brought round the main courses. Preferring to walk the gourmet and not the gourmand line, we shared two mains and the aforementioned appetizer between us. My sister had selected a special and I a menu staple. Hers was a grilled cut of wild striped bass served over risotto in a port wine reduction sauce. It was moist on the inside, crisp on the out and had a thread of full bass flavor running through it. The risotto rounded the fish off nicely and perked it up a bit too.



My entree, the Nori Wrapped Big Eye Tuna, was consumed first with the eyes, which send urgent signals to the stomach that something simply must be done about this gorgeous ensemble before them. Atop stir-fried bok choi and succulent mushrooms in a soy-wasabi vinaigrette, three tantalizing and slightly mysterious rings of red to brown lounged invitingly. At their cores was the deep red of rare tuna, melting out into thin rings of cooked white, then black, then crispy brown. The honesty of the tuna, grain laid bare and color true, held a playful juxtaposition to the deep-fried breadcrumb-encrusted nori that enwrapped it. It took a number of bites to place the unexpected crunch and juice of the crumbs, but the texture contrast was very welcome. There was a surprisingly large amount of fish in the dish, and I was quickly filled by the thick cuts. Despite the excellent pairing of tuna and vegetables, and in spite of the vaguely humorous pyramid of sushi rice immaculately formed on one side, the wrapped tuna did not hold my interest all the way through. It hit the right notes very well, but continued to hold them for too long and without any variation in the theme. Each slice was identical to the prior and just too dense. I enjoy eating tuna, but in order to fully celebrate this dish I would have to LOVE eating tuna.

When the choice came, we had to try dessert, and it had to be shared. There was simply no option. Good thing. From a delectable array we selected the Molten Chocolate Cake. It was molten. It was chocolate. It was cake. And that, I believe, should really be enough to satisfy even the most discerning pallate. The ice cream dollop was phenomenally creamy, rich and fresh. Its malt crunch flavor was understated and well paired with the cake. Presentation, especially with the bittersweet chocolate cigar, walked the same line between humorous and elegant as the Tuna, but it worked and we all oohed as Chris brought it down. The syrup was a refreshing mint, a classic chocolate combination which did no wrong here. And all in all, Atlantic Grill didn't do much wrong by me either.

Maki rolls: $9 - $11
Striped Bass: $27
Nori Wrapped Big Eye Tuna: $25
Molten Chocolate Cake: $8

Atlantic Grill is at 1341 3rd Avenue in NYC
212-988-9200