Shipwright’s Daughter elevates Mystic’s potent dining scene
Chef David Standridge greets our table wearing his trademark New York Yankees hat (a bit of an outlier on Connecticut’s eastern shore), and suggests we try the smelt. If the first development was amusing, the second left me bemused. Smelt? Really? To borrow the phraseology of those who live much farther inland: ‘that’s not food, that’s what food eats!” I trusted the chef, tried the fried smelt, and have thereafter felt a strong urge to eat everything else on the menu at The Shipwright’s Daughter. You should, too.
Standridge, Yankee by both birth and MLB affiliation, was raised in northern New Jersey’s Appalachian region, the scion of a grandfather from the tail end of the Appalachian Mountains in Alabama. Growing up foraging and fishing was a natural part of family life, and the homecooking tradition informed his early experiences with food. “The flavor profiles, that kind of thing, they stick with you,” he says. “It can almost be genetic with food and wine.”
Fast forward. Standridge, now a graduate of The Culinary Institute LeNôtre, is working at Quattro in the Houston Four Seasons. What did this classically French-trained chef working at a fine-dining restaurant eat in the kitchen? “Mostly Mexican food,” he quips. “Working in Texas, I was exposed to all these flavors ... moles, especially how expansive they can be, and changing with seasons.”
Add these flavor profiles to his repertoire, and add two small plates to our table.
The first, marinated local squid served with spring vegetables and sourdough bread, is an example, Standridge says, of growing throughout his career. The inspiration here was Mexican escabeche, marinated vegetables served with chips and salsa. Oily and vinegary, with a few tender shoots and slices of spring root vegetables, the bowl gleams bright purple with added beets. “We get the squid in very fresh, and if you cook it and put it in oil quickly, you can preserve that fresh flavor,” he explains. “It keeps longer, so you’re not always in need, it helps the food cycle.”
Dropped onto the waiting housemade sourdough, I can’t help thinking this would be a pretty sublime snack while having drinks at Shipwright’s bar, just as our drinks arrive.
The second plate is pig’s head served in a kind of crispy terrine over a mole verde of pickled apple, coriander and pistachio. This, too, would be an excellent side to a few drinks, and once again shows the chef ’s Oaxacan influence. In the summer he’ll prepare a squid-ink mole with pickled blueberries and kelp under dry-aged, locally caught tuna.
The plate itself grabs my companion’s attention. She runs her hands over it, and I’m reminded later to ask Standridge about sourcing other materials at Shipwright’s Daughter. Much of their tableware is locally produced by artisans like Lyndsay Meiklem Dean at Glaze Handmade, and business partners Amee Hussey and Magaly del Castillo at Ahmee Ceramics, both in Stonington.
Our drinks are of the gin-bowl variety, the choices simply named on the menu as Citrus, Floral, Savory and Spice. I choose the Savory, an ice-clear blend of Hendrick’s gin, Mastiha Antica, celery bitters and tonic, and enjoy the complex sensation of flavors in the drink, plus fresh
aromatics from the cucumber garnish. Seasonal cocktails, like the 24 Carrot (housemade ginger-infused vodka, carrot-infused ice, limoncello and basil), change at the behest of mixologist and bar manager Claire Procaccini.
My companion has the Citrus (jasmine-infused St. George Botanivore gin, Italicus bergamot liqueur, Bitterman’s Boston bitters, tonic). I taste it, and grow just slightly envious.
Standridge left Texas to help open Atelier Joel Robuchon at New York’s Four Seasons in 2006, staying on hand through 2012. “In Houston, I felt like I could do anything. I came to New York, and it was a whole new
world,” he confesses. He partially credits the experience to his outlook of never being satisfied with his latest creation. “I’m always trying to do the next thing. I’m relentless.”
The next new thing on our table is oysters, which I can’t resist if they’re available, and the chef ’s recommended fried smelt. I choose roasted instead of raw oysters, just to see what Standridge and sous chef Michael McHugh can do with them. They arrive four abreast, basking in chili herb butter the color of rubies, topped with cilantro and peppery microgreens. The oysters seem to disappear the moment they touch our table, which overlooks the heart of Mystic village. I’ll remember to
place a double order next time.
“I always wanted to work on the coast in New England,” Standridge says. “I stumbled on Mystic at a birthday party, saw the food scene, and got a job at The Whaler’s Inn (upstairs from Shipwright’s) in 2019. Bravo Bravo was here for 20 years, but we restored it down to the studs and developed the whole concept.
“I wanted to do something that reflected Mystic and fit into the environment, but a next generation, bringing world-class dining.”
As proof of concept, Shipwright’s and Standridge have since been nominated for best restaurant and chef in the state by the Connecticut Restaurant Association.
Take the crispy fried smelt: the tiny fish are butterflied and served tail-on, like fried shrimp, in a zippy kelp and flour dredge. The kelp, chef says, is what changes the fish, on the plate and in the waters of the Sound, just offshore. The fish live amongst the purifying fronds of the seaweed, which keep their meat super light and briny, utterly the opposite of what I expected. It’s served next to a petite wedge of gem lettuce with a dollop of peppery, creamy dressing, and over a squared stick of “Many Layers Potato,” almost fish-and-chips style.
This last is an indication of the thought which goes into even something so ostensibly simple as a potato wedge at Shipwright’s Daughter. First the potato is rendered almost transparently thin via mandolin, then layered with cream and herbs, stacked and fried golden. Soft inside, potato chip-crisp outside, one bite and my Irish heart nearly burst into song. Instead, I later ask Standridge “why smelt?”
“All the fish on the menu is because it’s local, and we can get it,” was the answer. Simple as that. “We serve what we can. It’s how we can serve the fishermen, because it’s a tough industry for the small boats. We get it from Josiah Dodge here — we don’t import anything.
“I really like small fish. Underutilized species,” he laughs. “Most of the fish I want are on the bait list.”
As if to prove his point, a small plate of mackerel lands on our table during dinner, unbidden. A step up the food chain from smelt, I have personally used this fish as bait. The difference between cynicism and skepticism is with the latter you can have your mind changed, and, dear reader, mine was.
A marinade lanced through the flavorful, but surprisingly mild fish. A blend of rich and healthy oils from the mackerel itself and a kalamata olive tapenade melding and resting on sourdough toast. My companion and I are halfway through the dish before I think to add any of a deep emerald comma of purée on the plate to a bite, and am rewarded with bright, herbal and aromatic parsley. A dish my eyes had skipped over on the menu became a favorite of the night.
It’s not all seafood at Shipwright’s. Standridge, McHugh and co. want to present a special dining experience, not a narrow focus. In that vein, I opt for the Painted Hills (Oregon) beef strip loin (with more of those layered potatoes), king trumpet mushroom, and shishitos. The beef is a perfect medium rare, and served sliced alongside a dollop of airy bearnaise espuma, taking a classic combination and adding skill, and delectability.
I pair this with a glass of Gal Tibor “Titi,” a bikaver red from Egri, Hungary. Deep and rich, like a fruitier cabernet, it’s a member of a wine list curated by Kathleen Standridge.
It’s all part of a collaborative effort, from the fishermen, to Rhode Island native McHugh, with his local knowledge of purveyors, like the Seacoast mushrooms in our plate of bucatini. “The whole point here is people can come out and have a formal dinner and have it be very special, but you can also come in and have breakfast, our Scrimshaw coffee shop during the day, or snacks with happy hour,” Standridge sums up.
I’d like to try all three.