"Despite being in landlocked Pittsburgh, everything at Fet-Fisk tastes like the sea. Chef-owner Nik Forsberg transformed a red sauce spot in working-class Bloomfield into what can only be described as a vibey basement party at grandma’s house. The bar is aglow in Lynchian red lights while, in the dining room, wine is served out of a vintage wooden hutch. Artfully plated Scandi-modern dishes are served on flowery china and frilly placemats. These oxymoronic traits somehow harmonize perfectly inside Fet-Fisk, where nothing feels like a mishmash — especially not the menu, which leans Scandinavian in all its cured, acidic glory. Take the pickled mackerel, a textural dream, with flaky fish served on a bed of firm smoked beets and finely shredded cabbage. The luscious rye cavatelli, laced with oyster mushrooms, tarragon, and fermented tomato, is made in-house. So is the nutty farmer’s cheese, whose whey acts as the brine for the humble roasted chicken, resulting in incredibly crackly skin and a succulent center. The cocktail menu is also full of depth: Dulse seaweed dirties up a martini and fernet adds an herbaceous kick to an after-dinner tea. After years of dining out, it’s easy to think that you’ve tried every iteration of chicken, dirty martini riff, and piece of crudo your tiny fork can handle. But this Rust Belt restaurant delights with rarified twists on the classics. Like postindustrial cities throughout the country, Fet-Fisk reminds us that there’s beauty in blending the old and new. — Jess Mayhugh, managing editor" - Eater Staff