Just as a pizza joint should be judged by its cheese slice and a bakery by its plain croissant, a fish shop ought to be measured by its clam chowder and fried fish. Spoiler: Dune Brothers excels at both.
Wedged into a corner of Ives Street, Dune Brothers serves as both a restaurant and market. The inside smells like — well — fish, but we’re in the Ocean State afterall. They don’t hesitate to lean into their marine theme: The walls are a collage of red and blue nautical paraphernalia and the bathroom walls feature black and white photos of men catching and cooking fish.
The restaurant is supremely cozy. A small wall decorated with hooks for hanging coats makes it feel like a home. Seating is tight, which may or may not suit your preference.
The chowder comes in a white and clear variety. Both are made with quahogs, a clam native to the Rhode Island coast. We opted for the white which was accompanied by a plastic packet of oyster crackers ($12). I appreciated that Dune Brothers wasn’t above serving packaged crackers on the principle that being pretentious doesn’t make food taste better. Oyster crackers, on the other hand, do make food taste better, especially clam chowder.
Despite the cream, the soup was gentle and light. It was scantily salted, but not underseasoned. The quahogs had a bouncy chew and the salt pork lent a resonant smokiness. The occasional cube of potato had sharp edges — an indication that it hadn’t been overcooked — and gave the whole creamy affair a surprising freshness.
Expecting a mix of greens, we were surprised when the Point Judith Squid Salad ($24) arrived as a mountain of marinated squid atop a slice of grilled sourdough. The quantity of tentacles was generous, to say the least. The squid was tossed with mild salami, briny Castelvetrano olives, diced red pepper, red onion and flat-leaf parsley. A garlic aioli had been swiped across the bread, and a dressing of red wine vinegar and olive oil struck such a high pitch that a few bites were plenty. I did feel that the bread was sabotaged under the squid’s weight and the volume of vinegar.
In a flurry of plates, our final two dishes arrived. The fish and chips ($24) were dramatically topographic: a craggy and carsted terrain of batter coated a fillet of pollock. This all sat on a throne of thick Old Bay seasoned french fries. This was a dish of sound: the sharp crunching of collapsing batter and the softer crisp of a french fry exterior.
The best bite on the entire table, though, was the house-made tartar sauce with chopped capers and fresh dill. It was rich and just a little tangy, making the experience of eating a french fry — already top notch — even better.
Dune Brothers doesn’t mess around when it comes to malt vinegar, and during the meal we were brought three different bottles: Heinz, a British variety and a local New England one. The English brand was the biggest hit — a medium acidic vinegar that harmonized with the fatty fish and chips.
Our last fish was a Sakonnet Point skate with brown butter, capers, golden sultanas and a delightful cruciferous slaw ($29). The capers and sultanas had been lightly fried in the butter, leaving them pleasantly chewy. The shredded savoy cabbage with fennel, apple, radish and mustard seeds was a refreshing and welcome break from the richness on the rest of the table.
At Dune Brothers, the portions are plenty. We left with two takeaway boxes and no room for dessert. With its soprano vinegars and percussive crunches, dinner was somewhat musical too. I had recorded a sound bite of the fish and chips which we listened to on our walk back to campus. The crackle of a knife through a crisp coating dominated, but the background noises were convivial and warm. Dune Brothers is a casual spot, meant for a meal that will fill you right up. Make sure to come hungry.
Service: good-humored
Sound level: conversational
Recommended dishes: white chowder, fish and chips
Hours: Wednesday-Sunday 11 a.m.-9 p.m.
Price Range: Appetizers $12-24, Entrees $15-37, Dessert $11
★★★/5.
Eleanor Barth Wu’26 can be reached at eleanor_barth_wu@brown.edu. Please send responses to this column to letters@browndailyherald.com and other opinions to opinions@browndailyherald.com.
