In a city where neighborhood restaurants have become destinations, a visit to this longtime seafood temple can be disorienting. Crowding the bar and slouched in the heavily padded chairs are diners who look airlifted from a Vegas convention: Oakleys hanging off the backs of their heads, glasses of cab glued to their palms. So this is old-style destination dining—plowing through dinner while Beethoven’s Fifth is piped in through the speakers. At least chef de cuisine Ron Boyd’s food is as well conceived as it is luxurious. On a recent night, the meal began with California osetra caviar anointing flash-cooked scallop, salt cod, and white-bean purée. It then traipsed from dish to startlingly good dish: an upscale Vietnamese pho enriched with foie gras and shellfish; a parmesan–black pepper soufflé flanked by sea urchin roe and lobster; a yin-and-yang pairing of sturgeon and braised veal cheek. It’s all so fine that the result is euphoria—pleasantly disorienting in its own right. (S.H.)