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Having made the trip to Palm Beach - a place awash with a different sort of sin - Miami's own Michelle Bernstein is at her most self-assured. The restaurant itself is secured on the third floor above a quiet lobby bar and terrace eatery, and everything within seems to mask dimension - backlighting, mirrors, and angles abound. The sum is a room with an amazing capacity for making you feel unseen, a place where you can drop your guard without care. Bernstein's menu has a mysterious effect too. It's divided into four sections - salads, crudos, starters, and mains - and much of what appears here is culled from her Miami restaurant, Michy's. Her creations are as whimsical as they are simple, like tuna carpaccio, consisting of three uniform slices of tuna, pink and thin as tissue paper, each dusted with foie gras "snow" and slivers of apple. Seafood is distilled to its most base components, like with salt-encrusted sea bream that glistens with the flavors of the ocean. Even comfort food, like Michy's famous fried chicken and slow-braised short ribs, are wildly impressive.