GRAND ARMY

NO MESS HALL

THIS IS the summer of foodie dream teams.

You’ve got A-list restaurant alums opening stellar joints of their own, like Virginia’s (ex-Per Se and Charlie Trotter staffers), Oiji (Bouley and Gramercy Tavern) and Noreetuh (Per Se alums).

But in a throwdown, my money’s on the heavyweights at Grand Army, a hip, homey hotspot in Boerum Hill.

Who’s on board? Mile End honcho Noah Bernamoff; Prime Meats bartender Damon Boelte; Julian Brizzi of Rucola; chef Jon Bignelli (photo above), formerly of wd-50; and, intriguingly, food photographer Daniel Krieger.

Maybe Krieger’s the reason food here looks as good as it tastes. Smoked octopus ($17) is the most impressive cephalopod I’ve ever tasted. Cut into meaty discs, the octopus is stacked on feather-light celeriac puree and finished with celery oil. You sense sharp, strong flavors from every element on the plate, and they sync up beautifully.

It doesn’t get any simpler than Grand Army’s pared-down shrimp cocktail ($12). It’s just five fat shrimp fanned across crushed ice with a cup of cocktail sauce. But simplicity’s a virtue. The jumbo shrimp are stunningly fresh, the house-made sauce lively and sharp.

Grand Army goes a little more mod with peekytoe crab ($10.50), an Instagrammable crescent of shredded meat punctuated with dots of piquant Kewpie mayo from Japan. Slightly smoky but tasting brightly of sea, it’s one of my favorite dishes of the year.

Or maybe it should share the honor with a tidy plate of cured mackerel ($8.50). There’s none of the usual fishiness; you get slightly citrusy, darkly sweet undertones instead. The meaty mackerel morsels are paired with a loony-sounding union of horseradish, celery oil and giardiniera, the puckery Italian relish. The whole thing hits a home run.

There’s a raw bar with superb-sounding oysters and clams here. We saw platters emerge with sets of cool medicine droppers full of dipping sauces. We resisted temptation and stuck with small plates to see how else the kitchen could wow us.

We weren’t disappointed. Matchsticks of asparagus ($13) with egg yolk and pecorino were elegant, rustic and rich. And one of Grand Army’s “fancy toasts,” slathered with whipped smoked shrimp ($5) and peppered with watercress, comes off as the world’s wittiest riff on rye with a schmear. Zucchini adds crunch, and pickled ramps give the whole production a final punch.

Even classic strawberry shortcake ($8) gets a clever upgrade, pairing macerated strawberries and lemon verbena cream with crumbly shortbread cookies. It’s the opposite of the cloying mess most restaurants pass off.

In a nutshell, it’s also what Grand Army’s about: Simple, straightforward, and serious food from a team of pros that’s raising the bar even higher for their ’hood — and the city.