The dishes are simply beautiful. I nearly didn’t order a salad of golden beets with smoked yogurt, struggling to muster enthusiasm for yet another beet-and-dairy salad, but my dining companion insisted. It turned out to be amazing, a parade of roots in every shade of yellow, with bursts of brightness from what seemed like a whole bouquet of nasturtiums, orange and vermillion and gloaming purple. For all the complexity of McGarry’s creations, they remain tight and streamlined: every element is load-bearing, and the final appearance isn’t always showy. Take, for example, a bowl of artichoke purée poured around a hillock of tender Jonah crab. The smooth liquid is briny and delicate, with a subtle vegetality that harmonizes with the crustacean’s sweetness; an accompanying hunk of freshly baked bread provides a sour-edged counterpoint, enlivening things even more. For all the evident care in this dish, its plating is boldly plain—beige on beige. McGarry could easily have zhuzhed things up with a little color: a sprinkle of sumac, or a chiffonade of fresh mint, but adding any other element would have changed the flavor. He trusts, wisely, in the carefully calibrated balance of each bite.