Fish

A cracker-skinned and flaky suzuki (Japanese bass) came over creamy orzo filled with tiny clams, crispy nuggets of house-cured bacon, and a spicy flicker of fresh fresno chiles threaded with preserved lemon. Pan-roasted monkfish were paired with an earthily exotic Madras curry of butternut squash, mussels and chewy couscous beads of fregola sarda. Crisply seared skate wing over spaetzle in parmesan broth practically fanned the aroma of shaved French truffles, the decadence was so intense. Red snapper with gigante white beans, piquillo peppers, and cuminy chorizo was evocative of a Spanish pantry.

Two simpler offerings - a Thai-curried mussel pot and a classic bowl of fines herbes-steamed littlenecks - proved familiar doesn't equal dull. With attention to great ingredients (like those slightly larger but more flavorful wild littlenecks), these alone were worth returning for.

There were a handful of less exciting efforts. The mahi mahi with chickpeas was overwhelmed by its piquant Mediterranean flavors. The peekytoe crab-filled ravioli clashed with the intense sweetness of its reduced carrot juice sauce. The roasted Loch Duart salmon over brussels sprouts and potatoes was so plain I could tell the chef was bored (as he later conceded over the phone).

There is nothing boring, though, about the inventive update on the Italian classic vitello tonnato. Usually a cold plate of sliced veal topped with tuna-flavored mayonnaise, at Fish it is instead ruby rare tuna loin wrapped in a seamless skin of veal cutlet. Meat glue and Stollenwerk's coveted new immersion circulator are involved, and the resulting Franken-fish is more about neat trompe l'oeil trickery than any deep flavors. Tuna's natural meatiness is heightened, but the veal itself is merely a wrapper. It's definitely tasty with grilled mushrooms and polenta, but still shy of brilliantly delicious.

And yet, I sense in this dish a chef in the throes of exploration beyond the usual seafood pan-roast, a cook headed somewhere new. With the space now to indulge those aspirations, I'm hoping the man from Little Fish continues to dream big.

Next Sunday, Craig LaBan reviews Pelican Restaurant in Sewell. Contact him at 215-854-2682 or claban@phillynews.com.