Sebastian, that cartoon crab from The Little Mermaid.
Had a jovial Jamaican accent. Nice way with a song. Very loyal.
Yeah, that crab was all right.
But make no mistake—you’d eat him the first chance you got.
And that being the case...
Check out Tiny Fork, a bright, sunny house of bivalves, crustaceans and the cocktails that love them, now open on the LES.
When it’s warm, you’ve got two simple needs—bright, airy spaces and food that tastes of crisp ocean air and clarified butter. This place has both. A big white-tiled-and-walled heaven of raw bar classics and hot stuff that may include a fish and chips where the “fish” is beer-battered lobster tail. (Hint: it does.)
Friends: that’s who you want with you here. Preferably as a kickoff to a night of, oh, let’s say burlesque at the Slipper Room (it’s upstairs). You’ll all head left at the entrance and lay claim to the communal table smack-dab in the middle of a sea of blue chairs and banquettes. Let the crab cakes and caviar-topped oyster shooters commence.
If you’re pressed for time, scratch that last part and go right. There’s the bar. Shiny new marble top, bright-red stools and possessing of a lobster-stock michelada.
Which is what the ocean would be if it had beer and hot sauce, when you think about it.
Had a jovial Jamaican accent. Nice way with a song. Very loyal.
Yeah, that crab was all right.
But make no mistake—you’d eat him the first chance you got.
And that being the case...
Check out Tiny Fork, a bright, sunny house of bivalves, crustaceans and the cocktails that love them, now open on the LES.
When it’s warm, you’ve got two simple needs—bright, airy spaces and food that tastes of crisp ocean air and clarified butter. This place has both. A big white-tiled-and-walled heaven of raw bar classics and hot stuff that may include a fish and chips where the “fish” is beer-battered lobster tail. (Hint: it does.)
Friends: that’s who you want with you here. Preferably as a kickoff to a night of, oh, let’s say burlesque at the Slipper Room (it’s upstairs). You’ll all head left at the entrance and lay claim to the communal table smack-dab in the middle of a sea of blue chairs and banquettes. Let the crab cakes and caviar-topped oyster shooters commence.
If you’re pressed for time, scratch that last part and go right. There’s the bar. Shiny new marble top, bright-red stools and possessing of a lobster-stock michelada.
Which is what the ocean would be if it had beer and hot sauce, when you think about it.
