New York: John Dory Oyster Bar

The John Dory is the restaurant you want to hate. There's the gaudy, overblown decor (think one of those aquatic-themed bathrooms meets country club prep meets no taste). The prices are very high, and the portions very small. The clientele can only be described as obnoxious, and the staff is deliberately apathetic (case in point: the sullen hostess insisted on repeatedly calling my companion "Stephanie" despite the fact that we had corrected her several times in the span of thirty minutes). It is also cramped and uncomfortable, bordering on claustrophobic. Really, the whole restaurant is just like one giant douche. But irritatingly enough, like so many of the egotistical asshats we know and love to hate, it's actually good at what it does. The Kanye West of restaurants, if you will. At its core, the John Dory does great seafood. For such an achingly hip place, the food is surprisingly fresh, simple and good, tinkered with only slightly, so that the natural flavors of the ingredients shine through. It is not overwrought, as you would expect the menu of the newest restaurant in the Ace Hotel to be.

Razor clam ceviche

Sea bream with Meyer lemon and Thai chili

Oysters, East and West coast

Cold poached lobster with tomalley vinaigrette

Whelks with garlic and butter

Take an appetizer of razor clam ceviche. It isn't the most attractive of plates, but the raw clam, simply dressed with an intensely grassy olive oil and maybe a bit of citrus, is soft and sweet. A crudo of sea bream with Meyer lemon and Thai chili offers a firm, clean bite, and ends on a luxurious note. The John Dory has excellent oysters (and at $3 a pop, they should be). Well-shucked, with meticulously clean shells, they are best adorned with just a squeeze of lemon. The lobster is fresh and well-poached, the richness of the tomalley modulated by a bit of acidity.

Chorizo stuffed squid with smoked tomato

Oyster pan roast with uni crostini

Things stay perturbingly on course as you navigate through hot side of the menu, starting with a wonderfully smoky chorizo stuffed squid. Tender hollows of squid are filled with hearty paella rice and nubs of sausage and nestled on a mound of white beans and creme fraiche. Smoked tomatoes add a smoldering acidic sweetness. The stock in an oyster pan roast could use a tad more seafood flavor but all that sherry and cream are lovely when sopped up with the accompanying crostini slathered with petals of uni butter or one of the John Dory's crusty, buttery Parker House rolls (which must be ordered separately). And the oysters in said pan roast? They are gently simmered to a slippery smoothness, best eaten with a spoon and some of that creamy broth.

Eccles cake

Grapefruit curd with ginger shortbread

Dessert is not a strong point. Eccles cake, an English dessert comprised of currants in a somewhat stiff flaky pastry and topped with ripe Stilton, was hesitantly described as "interesting, but good" by our server (waiter speak for, "Don't order it.") I was forced to parrot back this same lie when he came by to ask me how it was. The currants are cloyingly sweet, with an underlying mustiness, and the blue cheese doesn't help matters. The grapefruit curd with ginger shortbread was a welcome reprieve, and a nice twist on the usual lemon rendition, but nothing particularly special.

So, by all means, go. But keep in mind that the John Dory is a restaurant best approached with the kind of jovial, easygoing attitude that eludes so many of its patrons and employees. This is not the place to go when you are feeling irritable, impatient or ugly. Don't take it (or yourself) too seriously, and you'll have a grand time. Who knows? Remain unflappably cheerful throughout dinner and you may be rewarded with a grim smile from your server as you pay your bill.

John Dory Oyster Bar at the Ace Hotel

1196 Broadway

(between 28th and 29th St.)

New York, NY 10001

Phone: (212) 792-9000

Best dishes: Razor clam ceviche, oyster pan roast, Parker house rolls, cold poached lobster, oysters, chorizo stuffed squid

Hours: Open seven days a week, 12pm-2am. No reservations taken unless you are a guest of the Ace Hotel. Wait times usually very long, particularly after 7pm. Best bet is to go early.

Things to know: Oyster happy hour everyday from 5pm-7pm.

New York: Dhaba

It may be surprising to some that Indian cuisine is not something I know a whole lot about. In fact, it wasn’t until about two years ago that I began to actively pursue good, authentic Indian food. Admittedly, my prior knowledge on the subject had been limited to the dishes I’d had at the homes of my Indian friends in grade school (as good a start as any, I suppose) and the small town Indian buffets I sometimes frequented in college (a step down, to say the least). It was the memory of the great Indian food that I’d had intermittently as a child that prompted me to renew my quest to find the flavors and textures that had so fascinated me in my youth – the onion-y dense bread studded with potato that my friend Arati used to sneak to me from her lunch box under our desks in the third grade; the array of curries that I once found myself staring down during dinner at a classmate’s house in middle school.

Enter Dhaba, a dimly lit Punjabi restaurant in New York’s Murray Hill/Flatiron neighborhood, dubbed Curry Hill due to its abundance of Indian restaurants. Its modern ambiance and high-decibel crowd don’t exactly scream authenticity but let your eyes adjust to the darkness and you’ll see that the noisemakers are mostly Indian families and couples, not inebriated Wall Street brokers and anorexic scenesters.

Mango lassi

Navratan korma: paneer, fresh vegetables, pineapples, nuts, creamy almond sauce.

Tawa aloo gobi: potatoes, cauliflower, onions, tomatoes, tawa masala

Dhaba’s dizzyingly varied menu offers everything from the familiar to the unpronounceable. Yes, you could order chicken tikka masala, but please don’t - greater pleasures are to be found in the unknown. Try the navratan korma, a paneer (Indian cheese) dish stewed with vegetables, pineapple and nuts in an almond cream sauce. This isn't a dish I would have ordered myself, but I'm glad my companion did - the sauce was thick and naturally sweet from the pineapple and stewed vegetables, the paneer the perfect blend of firmness and creaminess with a mild milky flavor. It stood in stark contrast to the paneers I've had in the past, where the texture of the cheese so often approximates that of a waterlogged sponge. Or opt for the tawa aloo gobi, a medley of potatoes, cauliflower, onions and tomatoes in a pungent tawa masala spice blend.

Bhuna lamb mirchwala: thick onion tomato sauce, garlic, garam masala, green chilies

Murgh makhni (butter chicken): roasted chicken strips, bell pepper, creamy tomato sauce

For the carnivorous, lamb is a wise choice. The bhuna lamb mirchwala features chunks of lamb in a fiery sauce of onions, tomatoes and garam masala. Texturally, the lamb in Dhaba's curries are a mixed bag - some tender and fatty, others tougher, less favored cuts - but all flavorful. When it comes to spice, Dhaba (admirably) refuses to relent to the frailties of the Western palate - spicy here means spicy. For those who insist on playing it safe, the murgh makhni (butter chicken) is a good bet. Pleasantly tangy and creamy with the occasional undercurrent of heat, it's the girl next door of curry.

Garlic naan

Aloo pea paratha: leavened bread, spiced potato, peas

Tandoori chicken

However, Dhaba is not without its weak spots. During both visits, Dhaba's bread failed to impress. The generous amount of minced garlic on the garlic naan imparted an overpoweringly bitter flavor to the bread, which lacked the airy, springy quality I have come to expect from naan. An aloo pea paratha's stodgy texture detracted from its otherwise enjoyable potato and pea filling. I took bite after bite, waiting for some vestige of flakiness to show itself, but it never did. And the tandoori chicken seemed to serve an almost perfunctory purpose - moist and well-seasoned, but certainly not a standout dish.

Still, Dhaba's curries and vegetarian dishes are deliciously thick and expertly seasoned, and the mango lassi is outstanding. Visit just once and you will feel the urge to return in order to sample more of their extensive menu. The best strategy at Dhaba is to take on the unfamiliar. Chances are, you will be pleasantly surprised or, as in my case, find what you were looking for all along.

Dhaba

108 Lexington Ave.
(between 27th St & 28th St)
New York, NY 10016

Phone: (212) 679-1284

Best dishes: Curries, vegetarian/vegan dishes, lassi

Hours: Mon-Thu 12 pm - 12 am; Fri-Sat 12 pm - 1 am; Sun 12 pm - 10:30 pm

Things to know: $9 take-out lunch specials on weekdays; $10 lunch buffet Mon-Sat; $12.95 lunch buffet on Sundays

Basta Pasta

The hackneyed, usually misguided notion of "East meets West" has conferred a number of horrors upon society. An era of bad "Asian" fusion restaurants. General Tso's chicken. Steven Seagal movies.

Unfortunately, Basta Pasta joins the ranks of these botched attempts at cultural amalgamation. An experiment in Japanese-Italian cuisine, it exhibits many of the same qualities that befall the worst offenders of the East-meets-West cliche: novel enough to pique your interest, questionably lauded by many, neither country represented particularly well. The result is confused and poorly executed fare that captures neither the clean precision of Japanese cuisine nor the comforting heartiness of Italian food.

The meal begins innocuously enough. Truth be told, I enjoyed myself somewhat at the bread and appetizer stage. Little crisps of bread anointed with slices of goat cheese "lite" were brought to the table. I say goat cheese "lite" because it tasted like a cross between butter and goat cheese, the usual gaminess of the goat's milk diluted by a creamier, saltier flavor.

Calamari alla griglia: Grilled squid served with homemade sausage stuffed with curry risotto, golden raisins, pistachios and prosciutto.

Bagna cauda: Fresh vegetables with warm anchovy cream dip.

Calamari alla griglia arrived next. Though a bit salty, this dish wasn't half bad. The squid was tender, and the sausage was moist and well-spiced with curry. A less aggressive hand with the salt shaker and this would have been a solid appetizer. However, bagna cauda, the Piedmontese garlic-anchovy vegetable dip, would have been more aptly named "cream of garlic and salt." There was not one discernible anchovy in the white gloop that was served, and the consistency was reminiscent of those Campbell's condensed cream soups that I loved as a child. Still, strangely tasty, in that processed, I-know-it's-crap-but-my-taste-buds-like-fat-and-salt kind of way.

Spaghetti ai Ricci di Mare: Spaghetti with sea urchin, tomatoes and basil in garlic oil.

Server tossing pasta in Parmesan wheel.

Spaghetti con Prosciutto e Parmagiano: Spaghetti with Parmesan and Parma Prosciutto

Then the pastas arrived, and things took a turn for the worse. The much-hyped sea urchin spaghetti is perhaps one of the worst pastas I have ever had. Lackluster, pink tomatoes (can someone please explain serving out-of-season tomatoes in the middle of summer at a half-Italian restaurant?) languished on top of bland, store-bought noodles. Raggedy scraps of sea urchin littered the plate, polluting the dish with a bitter and metallic taste I never quite managed to rid my mouth of. The Spaghetti con Prosciutto e Parmagiano was equally as insipid, despite being energetically tossed in a gargantuan wheel of Parmesan cheese tableside. This bit of theater is probably the best part of ordering pasta at Basta Pasta, but it's sort of like going to the strip club - you get a tantalizing show, but leave with a noticeably thinner wallet and a hard-on for something a lot more fulfilling and expensive.

Tagliolini con Ragu di Pesce: Homemade tagliolini with Chilean sea bass ragu, capers and shredded zucchini in a spicy tomato sauce.

The tagliolini with Chilean sea bass is the one saving grace of the restaurant's pasta offerings. The texture of the pasta is slightly better, and the sauce is zesty and chock full of fish and ripe tomatoes (presumably, not the same ones thrown on top of the sea urchin monstrosity).

Vulcano: Melting chocolate inside warm cocoa sponge cake with vanilla gelato and fresh fruit

Crepe con Mela: Crepe filled with vanilla gelato, apple compote, Earl Grey jelly and sliced almonds.

For some reason, we ordered dessert. The molten chocolate cake was even more generic than most, being neither dense nor molten enough. And the Crepe con Mela tasted strangely of Kool-Aid, which was amusing and nostalgic, but nevertheless, unsatisfying.

In the right hands, fusion cuisine can be a success. However, Basta Pasta's neglect of the basic ideals of both Japanese and Italian cooking (unripe tomatoes? old sea urchin?) makes for a muddled and subpar experience that fails to impress on either front.

Basta Pasta

37 W. 17th Street

New York, NY 10011

(212) 366-0888

Best dishes: Calamari alla griglia, tagliolini with sea bass ragu