My squeamish friend explains why she sits out the waiter's invitation to visit the impressive fish counter at Avra. She's missing a scene. Tonight the display is less fish tank than meat rack. But Avra's fish is a lot better than I've tasted in Astoria. Avra's three stars come with strings attached.
Service is beglitched, especially when the place is as busy as it usually is.
Your check might come with plates still on the table. The waiter who escorts you to the fish bar might vanish at sea, never to return. Gently arched portals lead gracefully from bar to dining room to the fish bar. That's where you see those whole fish, the act to catch on Avra's extensive menu. Your selection, brushed with olive oil and lemon and the odd herb, is grilled over charcoal, filleted and delivered to your table, head and all.