Meridian

Meridian cooks around an open wood hearth, and that fire is the whole argument. Salmon crudo, clams brightened with nuoc cham, oysters seared in wagyu tallow that read like a one-bite surf and turf — the kitchen keeps finding a smoke or an acid note that makes familiar shapes taste unfamiliar. The cornbread topped with seared foie gras alone justifies a seat facing the open kitchen, where the cooking is the show and the room noise stops registering.

The space splits the difference between a neighborhood bistro and a polished chain, comfortable rather than precious, and the front bar works fine for a fast plate and a drink. The steaks come out with real char control, another sign this kitchen sweats details others skip.

The restaurant rebuilt itself from the ground up, dropping its old modern Brazilian identity for something looser and more hearth-driven, with a new chef and a new menu. That kind of reset is a gamble. It paid off — the plates read as more interesting for it, not more cautious.

Meridian carries a James Beard Outstanding Chef semifinalist nod and a spot on a national recognition list, both earned before this reboot. The fire in the new kitchen makes the case that the recognition wasn't a fluke.