Dovetail in , , | A la Carte Restaurants

Eating salmon on the upper West Side of New York doesn't sound particularly thrilling, but at Dovetail it's a religious experience. The rosy fish, grilled à la plancha, is exhilarated by a creamy horseradish gribiche (egg and mustard sauce) and bursts of caviar.  With its buttery finish, it's an intense and entirely satisfying appetizer.
So is much of the sophisticated cooking at  Dovetail, a New American restaurant that recently opened up on the upper West Side.  Chef-owner John Fraser isn't concerned with the trend toward hypercasual dining. With a rigorous sherry menu and the imminent debut of afternoon tea, Fraser appears to be waging a war for a middle ground between formal dining and the cafeteria.
Tucked into a townhouse, the 75-seat dining room of Dovetail is a civilized and slightly drab meditation on brown, walnut tables, chocolate carpeting and maple-paneled walls, with not a stitch of artwork. Yet, nearly every chair was occupied on a recent Monday evening. Before I could even order a glass of wine at  Dovetail,  a nearby table was offering their (unsolicited) suggestions and gushing about a salad,  a frisee and bitter lettuce salad so compelling they had traveled from their West Village neighborhood uptown for the second time in a week.
As for the salad at Dovetail,  it's excellent and oddly addictive. It gets a vibrant sprinkling of squash, pickled raisins and hazelnuts, and a tangy splash of hazelnut vinaigrette.  While the decor craves color, the food doesn't.  A succulent venison loin arrives with a wintry entourage of yam puree, rosemary marshmallows and chestnut confit.
The venison, like many of the other dishes, is far from simple. Though an appetizer labeled "Blue Point oysters" sounds straightforward, it isn't. Removed from their shells, briny morsels bob above a smooth sunchoke puree, scattered with charred pineapple, uni (sea urchin roe) and sunchoke chips. The dizzying arrangement gets a vital kick from tomatilloes and a peppery mignonette.

With classic training from French Laundry and Compass, Fraser produces an ambitious menu whose nuances are carefully chosen. Crushed peanuts and salty bacon-studded polenta anchor a flawlessly braised striped bass crowned with celery hearts. Pistachio-crusted duck is lavished with black truffles, roasted endive and apple butter.

Of all the entrees I sampled, the best is Fraser's tasty riff on lasagna. Thin sheaths of turnip stand in for pasta; they melt into a robust layering of beef cheeks and king trumpet mushrooms. A lasagna this flavorful deserves its own stage. Yet, it's flanked by overcooked sliced sirloin, which serves only as dull distraction. I was similarly perplexed by an unnecessary terrine (molded from chicken wings) in the center of an appetizer of finely seared skate with chickpea puree, orange and cardoon segments.

Here, dessert is thankfully not an outsourced afterthought. Pastry chef Vera Tong, who came over with Fraser from Compass, invigorates a traditional almond soufflé with a rush of apricot ginger coulis, and a cheesecake parfait with cooling drifts of kaffir lime foam. Skip over the "Citrus Supreme" with a bracing lemon curd for a sensational brioche bread pudding with bacon brittle.

While the menu is streaked with imagination, it's refreshingly understated: Dishes aren't tagged with showy labels and they don't arrive with long-winded explanations. After I had secured the last bite of salmon, the brown-on-brown decor didn't seem like much of a sacrifice.