Fins is even better after move
Greg Cox, Correspondent
note: Libbie and I dined at Fins on First Friday Feb 1, 2007.
A few months ago, when William D'Auvray announced that he and his wife, Lisa, were moving Fins from North Raleigh to roomier, snazzier digs downtown, I received the news with mixed emotions. On the one hand, I was happy to see this obvious sign of success for a restaurant that I've long considered to be one of the very best in the Triangle.
On the other hand, I was a little concerned about the size of the new location, which - with a total of 250 seats in the dining room, two private rooms, bar and sidewalk patio - is roughly three times that of the old one. What's more, D'Auvray's plans included the Triangle's first robatayaki bar, where the chef would char-grill small cuts of sashimi-grade fish and other delicacies to order and serve them, sushi bar-style. I couldn't help but wonder: Had D'Auvray bitten off more than he could chew?
I needn't have worried. The new space is chic but warmly inviting, and spacious without feeling cavernous. If service encountered any wrinkles in the transition, they had been ironed out by the time I paid my first visit. And the food is, if anything, even better than before.
To smooth the transition, the chef retained many dishes that he had perfected at the old restaurant. Fans will be happy to know that perennial favorites such as plantain-crusted Chilean sea bass, crispy Tai snapper “Indonesian style,” and baby lamb with a red curry-enhanced veal reduction remain on the menu. Of course, as those same loyal fans know, D'Auvray is supremely focused on the quality and peak seasonal freshness of his ingredients, and his presentations evolve accordingly. D'Auvray's signature hot and cold seafood indulgence, for instance, is a first course sampler whose half dozen or so offerings vary with the day's catch and the chef's inspiration. So does his sashimi selection, which sets a standard unmatched even by the area's best sushi bars (including the telling detail that it's served with real wasabi rather than the much harsher horseradish that is the norm elsewhere).
In a recent entree presentation, a crust of crushed Marcona almonds provided crunchy contrast to the sweet, delicate flesh of turbot, which was draped over a mound of emerald green fava beans and roasted cipollini. Warm white miso broth, poured tableside around the fish, completed the ballet of flavors and textures. D'Auvray's genius for culinary choreography was likewise evident in an offering of grilled loup de mer (Mediterranean sea bass), pink shrimp, Japanese eggplant, baby bok choy and lobster reduction-glazed shiitakes.
Fins is justifiably famous for its seafood, but those who venture ashore when ordering are also richly rewarded. On a recent menu, a “Vietnamese style” foie gras sandwich proved to be an inspired fusion of the Southeast Asian flavors of banh mi and the classic French pairing of foie gras and brioche. Another first course offering pairing veal sweetbreads and nuggets of Maine lobster against a backdrop of frisee and haricots verts in a black truffle dressing was every bit as luxurious as it sounds.
In short, Fins is one of those rare restaurants about which I feel comfortable saying, “Order anything you like. You can't go wrong.” That includes the robatayaki offering, which D'Auvray is initially limiting to eight listings (among them, Chilean sea bass rib rack and miniature roulade of prime filet, arugula and enoki mushrooms). In fact, if you've ever wanted to order a tasting menu, this is the place. My dining companion and I did just that recently, instructing the chef to prepare what ever he wanted to, and not to stop until we cried “uncle.” When we finally did, some 14 (small) courses later, we agreed that we'd just enjoyed one of the most memorable meals of our lives.
I suppose you could say I still have mixed emotions about the new Fins. But now those emotions are relief that one of my favorite restaurants has gotten even better, and - well, eager anticipation of my next visit counts as an emotion, doesn't it?