Alphabet City's young Turk.
One of the greatest fast-food treatments of local fish occurs in Istanbul. The stands there are tiny boats bobbing on the edge of the Bosphorus, each outfitted with a charcoal grill and a basket of fresh catch-of-the-day. You stroll up and the boatman puts a smoking filet and some peppers on a sandwich roll for you. Costs something like two bucks. The same thing could be done at the Fulton Fish Market.
Meanwhile, back in harsh reality, I remember one New York fish dish that approached the Way It Should Be. It was offered by a Turkish place, lovingly grilled. The restaurant was a bistro instead of a boat, though, and the fresh, flaky goods came not in a sandwich but on a plate, with fries, for something closer to $10 than $2. Not quite a throwback to the days when even poor New Yorkers ate shad and oysters from the Hudson (can anyone even recall them anymore?), but better than nothing.
The restaurant was called Mesopotamia, and it was on Ave. B just off Tompkins Sq. Park. It was actually only sort of Turkish. More Belgian. Belgian was hot around that time. Then it wasn't hot at all, and Mesopotamia closed. It reopened as Belmondo, having changed only a little. Now, in the same space, is third incarnation Gaia, and this time, it really is a Turkish restaurant.
For reasons explained above, I was anxious to see the seafood section of the menu. By the time the opportunity arrived, though, I was in a different frame of mind. I didn't care so much that the simple, Mediterranean-style, likely-to-be-awesome grilled fishes at Gaia are priced in the standard-but-disappointing $20 range.
Here's what happened in between: small plates. (Small plates are the new Belgian!) This excellent foreign idea, at least, has arrived for real. The small-plate restaurant foments a different approach to time spent out. You have a few drinks, some snacks, some more drinks, a chat with the server, who recommends some more snacks?gradually the problem of where to go next solves itself. You don't need to go anywhere else.
Gaia puts a welcome twist on the small-plate plan by letting diners view the options. Right at the moment when restaurant convention demands the presentation of a menu, a Gaia server arrives with a platter overflowing with appetizers, all ready-to-eat. Later, you see a menu and realize you wouldn't have ordered the dishes you just enjoyed had you only a description to go on.
The small plates are $6 each and mostly delicious. If you're unfamiliar with the cuisine, imagine a cross between Greek tapas and the savory sort of Middle-Eastern salads served at kebab stands. This makes sense if you look at a map. But you only need to look at the food, and point at what looks good.
One not to miss is cacik, a yogurt salad with cucumber and dill. The three flavors together come off amazingly rich. Keep some cacik around if you plan to make it to a second course, and to go the roasted-meat route when you get there.
Gaia's cheese plate includes a strong, tangy goat cheese, complemented by the mildest feta. Such creamy, homemade-feeling cheese is something one encounters in Istanbul even more regularly than grilled fish, but never before have I found any here.
Ciroz is strips of mackerel filet pickled in red vinegar. Astringent and ultra-salty, it was a little much for me, and those flavors are some of my favorites. The waiter said the fish had been "sun-dried," which at least explained why fresh mackerel's uniquely fat-rich oil wasn't playing much of a role in the dish's flavor.
I recommend trying anything stuffed. Turkish stuffings are ground meals of nuts, rice, currants or raisins, onions and exquisitely balanced spices. Gaia stuffs calamari rings by lining them up to form a cylinder?the results look like a sushi roll and taste unlike every single appetizer available in the whole East Village. Baked eggplant, with a stuffing that involved pine nuts and tomato, was nearly as memorable.
Our party couldn't decide between a pair of octopus plates: one with tender-looking marinated chunks, another a salad with green olives and scallions. Our waiter solved the impasse by announcing that he'd supply us both for the price of one. (By a tiny margin, I preferred the salad, with its springy kiss of vinegar.) He also brought us a gratis glass of raki, the national drink of Turkey (imagine a Good 'n' Plenty liquefied in alcohol). Hard to complain about service like that.
We ignored the wine list's few good choices from California and France in order to sample the more abundant Turkish offerings. Didn't hit on anything noteworthy on the red side, but a couple of whites impressed. Trakya ($6/$20), with a pleasing minerality and rather dramatically unusual fruity finish, was great to start with. For our fish course we settled on light-bodied Cankaya, with its subdued yet serviceable crispness.
Gaia grills Akdeniz Levrek and Akdeniz Cubra?the fishes formerly known as Mediterranean sea bass and sea bream, and currently better known by their Italian names, Bronzino and Orata ($21 each). The latter approaches ambrosial when cooked ineptly, and there's nothing the least bit inept about Gaia's whole-Orata technique. Even if your party fills itself to bursting on Gaia's small plates, you might want to split one of these.
The other attraction?not counting the side of seasoned bulgur with clotted milk that comes with every entree, which is just so much better than the plain rice you might expect?is lamb. I was ready to try Kuzu cop sis, described as grilled loin meat served with kidney ($17). Our waiter steered me instead toward kasarli kofte ($14), patties of nicely aerated ground lamb with a subtle-yet-effective touch of kasarli cheese mixed in.
Gaia's as fine a restaurant as its predecessors, but it doesn't seem to be any hotter. If you don't like crowds, that's one more reason to try it.