Dean's Is Not Your Average Pub

"The stargazy pie at Dean's-a new British-ish, pub-ish restaurant on the edge of SoHo-is, in a word, freaky. The head of a fish, cooked and glossy gray, emerges from a latticed crust, regarding the ceiling with an unnerving, dull-eyed serenity. A tail protrudes, too, at an opposite angle, giving the impression of a flexed body hidden beneath the surface of the pastry sea."

"(In fact, the head and tail are unconnected, and mostly decorative, intended to be removed before eating.) This wondrously bizarre dish originates in Cornwall, where the story goes that a fisherman named Tom Bawcock once braved a winter storm to bring in a catch so vast that it saved his whole village from starvation. His neighbors baked the entire haul into an enormous pie, and left the heads of the fishes poking through as a celebration of abundance, or maybe an announcement of survival."

"The version served at Dean's is more modestly sized than the pie of legend, serving one or two, but under its crust, which is almost obscenely rich with butter, is a classic stargazy filling, a creamy, chowder-adjacent stew of assorted fishes and soft hunks of potato-hot and heartening, and not freaky at all."

"Dean's is the latest restaurant from Jess Shadbolt and Annie Shi, who met while Shadbolt was working at the River Café in London, and whose other New York restaurants include King, the elegant, light-filled, linen-laid restaurant with which Dean's shares a wall. A lot of people really adore King, with its ladylike examinations of Italian and French simplicity, but I have to admit I've never been among them: it's always felt a little timid, to me, a little underbaked-a kitchen interested in restraint almost to the point of absence."

Dean’s, a British-ish, pub-ish restaurant on the edge of SoHo, serves stargazy pie with a striking appearance: a glossy gray fish head emerges from a latticed crust and a tail protrudes at an opposite angle. The head and tail are decorative and meant to be removed before eating. The dish traces to Cornwall, where a fisherman’s legendary catch was baked into an enormous pie with fish heads left visible as a sign of abundance or survival. At Dean’s, the pie is smaller but the filling is classic and deeply rich, with butter and a creamy, chowder-adjacent stew of assorted fish and soft potato pieces.

Read at The New Yorker