One day during the 16th century, a fisherman set out to save his people from starvation, so the legend goes. 

After braving a storm that had kept fishing ventures at bay for weeks, Tom Bawcock returned to the tiny coastal village of Mousehole at England’s southern tip with seven types of fish, which he baked into a pie with their heads proudly sticking out to announce their presence. Now, the Cornish eat stargazy pie every year on Dec. 23 for Tom Bawcock’s Eve — and if New Yorkers look closely enough, they’ll find it listed overhead at Soho’s newest British pub.

In the five weeks since it opened doors on Sixth Avenue just past Houston Street, Dean’s has fully embraced its English roots. Its navy exterior is decorated with flowers in baskets hanging from lamposts, and its playlist is ripe with English ’80s rock. The pub’s name is a nod to Dean Fryer, a fisherman from co-owner and chef Jess Shadbolt’s hometown of Aldeburgh. Shadbolt, along with beverage director and fellow co-owner Annie Shi, also make up the duo behind Italian spots Jupiter and King, the latter of which is next door to Dean’s. 

There are beer-battered fish and chips ($34), which have quickly become a fan favorite, while the first item on the beer and cider section of the menu is draught Guinness ($11) — pronounced “draft,” of course. Amid the quintessentially British fare, however, are the true gems of Dean’s: the kind of food that’s far from fussy and unapologetically simple, yet prepared with the attention to detail necessary for a lower Manhattan restaurant to thrive.

At any good pub, food is best enjoyed shared — this is true at Dean’s in several ways, whether you’re looking to split costs or looking to try as many items as possible. Stargazy pie ($35) and the pint of prawns ($22) are cheekily written on a “menu” above the doorway that leads into the kitchen. Unlike most iterations of the Cornish dish, which contain several fish heads jarringly peeking out of puff pastry, the pub’s version is light and elegant, filled with mackerel or hake, not the traditional sardine. The ridges of the lattice are crisped and browned, giving way to tender fish and a soupy mix of diced carrot and potato.

Upon quick glance, you could easily mistake the paper menu at Dean’s for a grocery list. The handwriting is charmingly messy and seemingly careless, and several dishes reflect that same confidence.

I can imagine many a New Yorker ordering huge slabs of roast beef with a block of Montgomery cheddar cheese ($25) or the straightforward “Boiled Ham, with Mash, broad beans + parsley sauce” ($28), only to be hit with a twinge of anticlimax. The mashed potatoes are buttery and smooth, as expected, but the ham is surprisingly modest — doused in a thin cream sauce and fava beans, it becomes light in a way that thick slices of pork rarely are. The classic mushy peas ($14) also shed their bland reputation at Dean’s, where the side looks more like a bowl of guacamole, creamy and packed with mint. 

Shi’s selection of cocktails is fun and summery, from the strawberry lemonade-like, Tito-spiked lemon drop ($22) topped with a fluffy ricotta foam to the vibrant green cucumber gimlet ($18). Meanwhile, seeded Guinness bread ($6) is the pub’s carb of choice, served with a generous swipe of butter swirled with Marmite — the salty, funky British condiment made from the yeasty byproduct of beer.

Monstrous strips of fried pork skin ($12) — the classic English pub snack pork scratchings — served with a sweet quince compote are a showstopper, though unfortunately crunchy enough to cross into tooth-chipping territory. Save some of the compote, aptly named orchard sauce, for the London-born scotch eggs ($14), which are served shatteringly crispy with a jammy half of a quail egg in the middle and a strong yellow mustard. Here, diners can also make use of the small crystal jars of flaky salt on their tables.

Dessert follows suit in three forms. The sponge cake pudding, though small, is tender and moist, bathing in a pool of sweet custard and topped with thin slices of syrupy ginger ($14). Dean’s also offers a classic British lemon posset with elderflower ($14), accompanied by a small piece of shortbread, along with brandy snaps ($18) — a cannoli-like British dessert filled with whipped cream or chocolate cremeux.

I still question whether New Yorkers are ready for its unique brand of nonchalance. Flashiness is back in fashion in lower Manhattan, and, aside from the stargazy pie and Guinness shooters topped with oysters, Dean’s is far from it. But keeping up with an ever-changing food scene means finding ways to excel. While you won’t have the best meal of your life, you also don’t need to — because dinner at Dean’s means good drinks, better food and a welcome lesson in what makes a dish memorable.

Contact Lauren Ng at [email protected].