Perilla

One of my assistants text-messaged me that The Dish’s Dishes had officially been published in the Times while I was sitting at the bar in Perilla. So perhaps my glowing remarks on the restaurant—from it’s delicate and delicious fare to it’s genteel wait staff and lighthearted mood—are a bit affected.

However, I had gone to Perilla a day after the opening evening with a touch of skepticism. After all, not only was I storming the place too early after their opening when the menu was still being tweaked and perfected, but also because I had my reservations about a Top Chef alum starting a new restaurant. What I learned, however, is that none of that matters when it’s Harold Dieterle behind the scenes.

Perched on stools, my buddy and I ordered Taylor Bay scallops on the half shell as a preliminary nibble. What arrived were six poppy seed soaked morsels of incredible flavor. Set in a base of ramps, the scallops were a perfect opening salvo, not just to our meal, but to spring as well.

Soon after we’d slurped the shells clean, a bowl of hamachi came, basking in tomato water and yuzu. The combination was ambrosial. Accompanied by a small cucumber salad, the dish was both light and meaty. After we ate the fish, we dunked bread into the broth to soak up the last remaining drops.

We couldn’t resist ordering the fiddlehead fern ravioli—another nod to springtime. The result was as delicious as our other treasures, with ricotta and fiddleheads stuffed inside the dough and morels and fava beans liberally surrounding them.

We’d eaten light and awarded ourselves two desserts: the strawberry confit—a dish practically jumping off the page at me—and the chocolate fondant with pistachio ‘scream. Our set up at the bar was so pleasant that we tried to linger over our desserts for as long as we could, not wanting to give up our seats to the next patrons.

Perilla is, from day one, making its mark as a fantastic restaurant and is a welcome addition to the neighborhood.