Marea: Nautical in the Best Way

In August, I wrote about The Butterfly. Which makes this my second writeup about an Altamarea Group NYC restaurant in a short while. I guess that's because my experiences there have been so enjoyable. Unlike The Butterfly, which is quite casual and in TriBeCa, Marea is more of a special-occasion destination in Midtown. Also different is that it's known for its seafood (marea is Spanish for "tide"), which I can confirm, after the Branzino I had, is delicious.

Branzino, pumpkin, coco beans, spigarello, marcona almonds

The seaside is also translated into the design, executed by Richard H. Lewis Architect and Franco Rosignolo, but in such an elegant and artistic way. Sure, there are seashells, but they're presented dramatically like individual sculptures—limestone bases and all—that they seem perfectly at home in the urban setting. I'd love to have the below one in my house, which, too, is not anywhere near a beach.

Then there's the actual art: a stunning collection of water-themed photography. Pieces appear throughout the dining room, of course, but some of my favorites were downstairs, in the restroom lounge, and even in the restroom stalls.

In the dining room

Restroom lounge

Restroom stall

The Butterfly, NYC

Michael White's latest endeavor is a bit of a departure. Unlike his other Altamarea Group restaurants Marea, Ai Fiori, and Costata, a visit to The Butterfly in TriBeCa doesn't require a special occasion or an expense account. It does require, however, a taste for the vintage and the mid-century modern—both in design and somewhat in cuisine. For those wondering about the restaurant's name, it actually hails from Wisconsin (as does White): working at the Butterfly Club in Beloit was one of White's first cooking jobs. Although he was there in 1989, White's NYC reinterpretation has a mod 1960's feel, rendered by Stefano Angeli and Franco Rosignolo, his frequent design collaborators. You'll find George Nelson clocks, mid-century Scandinavian cupboards, a Sputnik pendant fixture—even the waitstaff wears plastic pen pocket protectors. The menu skews toward Americana nostalgia, too. There are versions of a reuben, a patty melt, and fried chicken on the menu; our dessert, called Little B, was like a fancy, and equally yummy, Ring Ding. The Midwest Butterfly offered entertainment with dinner; the urban version plans to host screenings of Packers football games and the Oscars on a huge flat-screen. 

Crab cakes

the upscale Ring-Ding: Little B