This restaurant review coincides with a very special event: The Mill Stone Pottery annual staff party. For those of you who don't know, Mill Stone Pottery has exactly two employees, and they happen to be my mother and myself. Staff party might therefore seem a bit superfluous, but when you work for and live with your mother, sometimes you forget to be fun and charming on a regular basis, and staff party is just the fix for that.
This year’s restaurant of choice was the newly opened Fin, actually just steps away from Mill Stone Pottery in the middle of Dennis Village. We’d been hearing the buzz about Fin all summer long and decided it was time we had a taste of the excitement ourselves. We were not at all surprised to have a delicious meal, and a delightful evening.
We started with the special salad and the tuna tartare appetizer. The crisp baby salad greens topped with dry-toasted hazelnuts and shredded lime radish was an unexpected but entirely successful pairing. The tuna tartare was also quite the palette pleaser. Those with small stomachs beware, I very well could have just enjoyed the tartare and a glass of wine and called it an evening as the serving size was quite generous for an appetizer. Nevertheless, that didn’t in any way dissuade me from eating every morsel. Buttery avocado slices to compliment the creamy flavors of the fresh tuna, an acidic yuzu and wasabi drizzle to ignite the palette, and a topping of crisp cilantro, sesame seeds, and irresistibly crunchy, lotus chips to seal the deal. I fell in love with my first course.
Unfortunately, overwhelmed by an extraordinary menu, my main dish ordering did fall a bit flat. I was lured in by the scallops, and therefore overlooked the fact that the majority of the plate was actually devoted to a butternut squash risotto with chorizo. Don’t get me wrong, I love the arborio entrée, the problem is simply that -- and I admit, I’m going to flatter myself a bit here -- I make killer risotto. Parmesan risotto, with leaks, or eggplant, or pumpkin, drizzled with olive oil, topped with mushrooms, scattered with pea shoots, or pine nuts, or basil, or wilted kale. I love it all, I make it well, and so, blinded by the prospect of rosy, plump scallops, I forgot that I never, ever, order risotto in a restaurant because my expectations are simply just too high; they can only lead to a let down. It was, therefore, too easy to pick apart my entrée -- the butternut squash was overdone, the parsnips needed to be cooked longer, the chorizo did not pair well with the beurre rouge sauce, and the scallops had taken on a bit too much salt, leaving them bitter tasting in the reduction. And then there was the other problem: since this was the staff party, my mother had felt entirely justified in her main dish choice—she’d ordered the lobster. Staring down at my own, now anemic looking scallops on a mound of risotto, and then gazing across the table a the tiny tureen in front of my mother that held the most brilliantly red lobster tail, sinfully succulent oyster and shitaki mushrooms, sweet corn, stewed carrots, and fava beans, all soaking, entirely unapologetically, in a hefty amount of butter, I felt nothing but remorse.
And, speaking of remorse, we ordered dessert too. And wine, did I mention the wine? Staff party comes but once a year; it’s important to live it up. We ordered the panna cotta. Generally, I am hesitant to order this dessert, as the samplings I’ve tasted elsewhere tend a bit too much towards a hardened or gelatinous texture than I prefer. I was therefore thrilled with the creamy, silky, melt in your mouth delicacy placed before us. Prior to it’s arrival at the table, I had insisted that I would have just a bite, but topped with toasted almonds and drizzled with a pronounced lavander honey, I really never had a chance. Delicious, beautiful, and accompanied by an expert tuile made in-house by the pastry chef, spoonful after spoonful somehow found it’s way to my already stuffed stomach.
We will confess that the next day we realized we may have over indulged. Truly, I could have stopped at the tartare and been delighted. The scallop dish was indeed a let down, but the rest of the evening’s offerings redeemed the meal. The overall menu at Fin is well designed and executed, dishes (both appetizers and entrées) change with the season, and though the majority of the main plates feature fish (in case you didn’t catch on by the name, it’s primarily a seafood restaurant) there are several poultry and meat options and a vegetarian dinner of winter vegetables and starches that would make any meat eater jealous. Fin’s atmosphere is refined, clean and simple, though not sterile. With two floors of dining, they have created an intimate yet animated setting, white tablecloths and walls with hardwood floors and autumn tones that add a warmth to the well-crafted sophistication. Eating at Fin feels like a refined treat, but it also infuses your evening with a friendly, giddy feeling that makes you want to lean across the table and chat with surrounding diners. While discussing the littlenecks appetizer with our own dining neighbors, I couldn’t help but notice that the couple two tables down had also struck up a conversation with the four-top across the aisle about the short ribs. You can’t help it; Fin has simply created that perfect atmosphere that makes you want to eat good food and talk about it, and that is my favorite kind of feeling.
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