You know those people who run into a restaurant the day they open, In my own time, I’m not that girl. I like to give a new restaurant a few months to iron out the kinks and really get into their natural flow of things. Well, part of the business of being a food writer is to betray that reasonable sort of thinking and to be amongst the first in the doors. That doesn’t mean that every single time I do, I cross my fingers and pray for the best. This was my mindset as I closed in my big yellow umbrella and ducked into Scott Conant’s Fusco.
Dripping from the Spring showers that no umbrella had a prayer of protecting you from, I jumbled all of the things in my hand, reorganized and looked up to see the elegant beauty of the restaurant before me. It’s a narrow space made more slight by the large bar that leaves a hallway-like space to get to the main seating area in the back. The details are sophisticated and demure in a champagne toned neutral color palette—it’s rich without being ostentatious. There is a pin-tucked camel colored leather wall near the entrance, minimalistic gold leafed and neutral toned artwork on the walls and small crystal chandeliers—it’s beautiful.
The space’s beauty there is just the start. As each dish was placed before me, I listened to the server’s words describing each element of the dish while staring at it marveling at it’s beauty. From the simplicity of a homemade spaghetti with tomato sauce and basil that is piled dramatically in the center of the plate to the dynamically plated deconstructed take on a caesar salad, or the meticulously placed flower on top of a seared halibut. It’s art. Interactive art, if you will. One bite in and you’ll see why the food calmed my opening day fears, it’s wonderful. Each dish is exciting and colorful in the otherwise muted toned space. If you need to impress, Fusco is the place to nab a table!