Time and Tide
A short, but not too sweet, note about the new restaurant envisioned by late chef James Kent.
Even a pizza-sized Goldfish cracker could not redeem the late chef James Kent’s new “seafood steakhouse.”
The chef behind Michelin-decorated Crown Shy and Saga, located in the same Financial District skyscraper, tragically died this past June. While I’ve never had an occasion to visit Saga, I have enjoyed each of my visits to Crown Shy over the past five years, and I had high hopes for the “seafood steakhouse” that Kent had planned with Top Chef winner Danny Garcia, with whom he worked at the NoMad. Following Kent’s death, Garcia, Kelly Kent, and Renata Ameni of the recently renamed Kent Hospitality Group are at the helm of this project, which is located in the area near Madison Square and Gramercy Parks that I recently learned is called “Rose Hill.” Inspired by his grandparents, the restaurant was a very personal project for Kent; Garcia et al have the formidable task ahead of executing his legacy.
Unfortunately, Time and Tide did not impress. The aforementioned giant Goldfish cracker did its job of drawing me in via its adorableness (pictures of the restaurant’s take on the snack that smiles back spread across the online channels I frequent), but once I was in the door, little else sparked that kind of joy. (And frankly, I would have been just as happy eating actual Goldfish, even if they are less Instagrammable.) Even nori-dusted fries with caviar (you can add 15g or 30g to anything on the menu) failed to delight me, which — as seasoned readers of this newsletter know — is a huge red flag. (To be fair, I was in charge of choosing what to put the caviar on, and perhaps I chose badly; on the other hand, fried potatoes and caviar together is usually an easy recipe for luxurious delectability. Perhaps it was missing something creamy, though.) Red snapper crudo with leche de tigre and serrano was generally fresh, vaguely citrusy and vaguely spicy, but basically uninteresting. As we moved on to main courses, I had high hopes for the halibut pithivier with mushroom duxelles — a pescetarian version of the classic Beef Wellington felt like it epitomized the “hearty steakhouse fare, but make it fish” that the restaurant seems to be striving for — but it was dry and dull, with no interesting flavors to speak of. My sister who does not eat meat or fish ordered the only vegetarian entree on the menu, while my fiancé ordered the only meat item; these were fine but unremarkable. Sure, you don’t go to a seafood restaurant for those things, but the seafood wasn’t any better (and the halibut pithivier was actually worse). Pastry chef Renata Ameni’s desserts looked beautiful in the pictures I saw, but by the time we had finished our savory courses, we were so disillusioned that we opted to skip dessert.
Time and Tide has been open less than a month, and maybe I need to give them more time to get it together. But I generally love going to hot new restaurants when they open for one reason: they’re generally in their purest form, closest to the chefs’ and owners’ vision, as yet uninfluenced by customer preferences and the dream-dimming demands of practicality. But nothing at Time and Tide made me want to give them another chance in a few months, either. At this point, there are hundreds of restaurants in New York with impressive DNA; you’ll have a better meal at a different one. (If you’re looking for a place with many creative seafood options, might I suggest Smithereens?)
I’ll continue to remember James Kent and what he accomplished at Crown Shy, perhaps honoring his legacy by trying out Saga or, in 2026, one of the five (!) restaurants Kent Hospitality is said to be opening in the new downtown outpost of Paris’s Printemps department store. But time and tide wait for no man, and neither does New York City’s restaurant scene.
Totally agree with all of this.
And the vegetarian entree was, as noted by the sister, just a bunch of vegetables. Restaurants need to do better at envisioning vegetarian food. The rice side dish, ordered separately, was adequate but no more.