Magazine article The New Yorker

Catch

Magazine article The New Yorker

Catch

Article excerpt

Why have one hostess when you can have four? At Catch, a typically cavernous restaurant in the meatpacking district--surely the only neighborhood in New York where you wish the restaurants would take up a little less space--the answer is that more is always more. Hence the velvet rope and two bouncers on the way in, the juiced-up samba version of "Move on Up" playing inside, the twenty-five-dollar tequila cocktail, and the grab-bag menu of dishes from around the world, governed by the principle that most, though not all, of it should be seafood.

Spinning on the lazy Susan at any given point, there might be the Italian-American classic cioppino stew (thick with tomato pulp but served in a stingy shallow bowl), some sushi rolls (including a dried-coconut-encrusted Zulu roll), a chunk of "simply cooked" salmon or mahi-mahi (served a la carte, with the sauce, naturally, on the side), and, with any luck, a crispy whole snapper (done in the traditional Thai style, curved in on itself and covered in chili and garlic). It's the best thing on the menu, but it's also seventy-two dollars.

For those without expense accounts, simpler pleasures are hard to find. …

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