Little Fish's famous fried fish sandwich is the highlight of the seafood menu

The amazing, beyond-Filet-o-Fish fried fish sandwich that chefs Anna Sonenshein and Niki Vahle introduced during the pandemic was one of those creations that Los Angeles didn't know it needed. Not until it was among us — first as a cult pop-up, then as an instant 2020s mainstay served out of a takeout window in Echo Park, and now as gateway bait to the couple's six-month-old restaurant, Little Fish Melrose Hill.

While Echo Park's Little Fish takeout location is moving to a more permanent location a block away in the next few months, the only time and place to dig into the sandwich right now is during lunch service at the new restaurant.

The piercing freshness of the coated Pacific striped bass or Channel Island rockfish (depending on the catch of the day), its finely kneaded dough that rustles in the teeth, the coordinated pickles and mayonnaise and the winking slice of American cheese: nothing has changed. If you've only picked up this masterpiece slightly crushed from a to-go box, its statuesque construction comes into its own when enjoyed on a real plate.

Then delve deeper. Sonenshein and Vahle's Little Fish projects have always been about more than just the groundbreaking signature on a domed potato bun, but here – which fits seamlessly into a group of restaurants that includes Kuya Lord, Bar Etoile, Telegrama Cafe and Chainsaw – their larger ambitions have come into focus.

Little Fish Melrose Hill is clearly a seafood restaurant, but its owners dodge the formula that calls for clam towers, clam chowder and fried calamari.

The chefs married in April. It's no exaggeration to see the ever-evolving, imaginative menu as a dialogue between two people in love working together.

Dishes meander through and between kitchens. Rather than committing to a particular tradition, Sonenshein and Vahle achieve cohesion through their style – a conscious, effective unity of their culinary gifts.

Designed as a kickoff snack, their tiny “beach sandwich” offers the same satisfactions as its seafood counterpart. Shelled mussels are cured in shiro shoyu to give them a slightly salty-sweet flavor. They are spread on airy ciabatta slices spread with mayonnaise.

Balance of acidity is a given element of cooking, but Sonenshein and Vahle use acidic bursts with particular success as little “aha” moments. Here, the other ingredients are flavored with pickled Guindilla peppers from the Spanish Basque Country, called piparras, to give the palate a jolt that pierces and fades quickly.

For a change: a final layer of Kettle potato chips. Crackling, brine, creamy, sparkling. Fun.

A similar formula adds pizzazz to a small dish of tuna-stuffed olives, a squeeze of lemon, and a texture of oil-crunched breadcrumbs. What could have instead been a throwaway tidbit becomes a thoughtful, compelling preface that sets the tone for what's to come.

These openings scream out for a glass of, say, something mineral from the Loire Valley, which brings me to the restaurant's next asset: Kae Whalen, one of LA's great wine spirits and hospitality freethinkers

Whalen first opened my mind to her approach to wines that fall under the controversial “natural” category at Kismet in 2019. It was a constant joy over the years to find her as a sommelier at Anajak Thai or Baby Bistro or the now-closed Bar Chelou in Pasadena. She is the general manager and beverage director at Little Fish. Even when she's not in the dining hall, her touch is ever-present among the staff, a sparkling crew, each of whom was surely that rare high school combination of cool kid and theater kid.

Whalen has grown professionally with the taste of LA. She tucks strands of her straight brown hair behind one ear to lean in for a focused conversation about what to drink. Tell her you hate natural wine and she'll bring you a bottle of wine that belongs in the classic Burgundian region. Only later, when you love it, will she describe with a sphinx-like smile how it is made using low-intervention practices.

If you're in the mood for a sparkling, juicy glass of chilled Sonoma Merlot that no character in “Sideways” knows about, she'll pour that for you, too.

Her presence helps define the intelligent way Little Fish positions itself on the boundaries of casual and chic, quirky and elegant. The space does its part, too, as it sits on a prime corner where LA's unique light changes, gilding and darkening as midday fades into the evening hours.

The decor is subtle and beautiful. Note the wetland tiling along the wall behind the oak bar, all in soft greens and rosy browns. They frame two built-in chambers for the dry ripening of fish. I see the tapered shapes hanging in the shadows behind their doors and they inspire me to order crudo, one of the most over-the-top dishes of the early millennium.

The reward: Plates like halibut, velvety-firm, shiny with olive oil and topped with diced green strawberries, salted and fermented Umeboshi-style, with matching dots of fresh wasabi.

Crudos change often, and they're reliable, even paired with spices that are electric and unconventional.

The warmer weather has brought lighter inspirations, like a pile of Dungeness crab arranged with strips of summer squash and dressed in vinegar-tosazu jelly (again, just the right amount of tartness), or a simple plate of bright brilliant melon wedges sprinkled with tajin and ground shrimp shells. At times, the oceanic aspects are almost implied: summery “corn dumplings” orbit the shape and character of agnolotti, served simply in koji-infused butter with translucent bits of wakame for toothsome contrast.

Should seafood aversions find their way through the door, expect an excellent roast chicken in raw jus, accompanied by a welcome sprinkling of mustard. An order of black pepper-dusted fries on the side is ideal, although the horseradish in the aioli may be a bit over the top given Sonenshein and Vahle's overall flavor exuberance.

Even in the restaurant's early months, as the chefs honed their collaboration and the sharp, defined creativity that their cooking now consistently achieves, the desserts showed brilliance. A delicious February dinner ended with bay leaf stracciatella ice cream—a grown-up version of the mint-chocolate ice cream from our childhood—drizzled with a cabernet reduction and a handful of blackberries. Suddenly the whole night felt exhilarating. I'm glad it's become a staple.

Lately, the couple has been baking a Camembert cheesecake with cherries they picked last year—essentially a deliciously savory-sweet cheese course reimagined.

Early on, Whalen recommended a fruit plate with California cheese, but it never caught on with customers. Citrus and dates apparently couldn't keep up with bay leaf stracciatella ice cream. At the moment, however, ripe, honeyed peaches with soft goat cheese would pair beautifully with the final sips of a Chenin Blanc.

Little Fish has a lot of forward momentum. A revival of Kae's Fruit Plate at the height of stone fruit season is, among all the little details that already fit together so remarkably well, a detail worth revisiting.