Blueacres of Calm

On the same plate, Davis serves thick steak fries as frites. While technically correct (frites can be any size and shape they want to be), big fries just don't work for dipping in broth—which is what the frites in moules et frites are for. They're too big and crisp. What you need, ideally, is something small and shoestringy, so you can dredge a whole forkful through the broth like a savage, getting wine and lemon and garlic all over your chin while trying to shove as many frites as possible into your mouth.

Beyond this, the smoked salmon collars were overwhelmed by the garlic and red chile glaze and smoke. And the lobster, at $24 a pound, is prohibitively pricey. But my affection for the operation is undaunted by these stumbles. Nothing about my experiences at Blueacre would ever stop me from going back and dropping a large chunk of cash on fish cooked by fish experts, and walking out wondering if there would be something even better on the board tomorrow.

Joshua Huston

For Kevin Davis (foreground), the "new" restaurant on Seventh Avenue feels as familiar as an old sweater.

Details

Blueacre Seafood 1700 Seventh Ave., 659-0438, blueacreseafood.com. 11 a.m.–10 p.m. daily.

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And absolutely nothing on earth could keep me from those Potatoes Minneapolis. Because, seriously, for a New Orleans–inspired, Japanese-inflected, French/Mediterranean–affected fish restaurant, Blueacre really knows its way around some Midwestern bacon and potatoes.

jsheehan@seattleweekly.com