In real estate, it’s location, location, location. In seafood restaurants, it’s — altogether, boys and girls: fresh, fresh, fresh. McCormick & Schmick’s Seafood Restaurants are a chain, but since they make a fetish of freshness, this is a good thing for the state of seafood at large. America needs fewer clams with their tongues lolling out.

The 51st restaurant in the McCormick & Schmick’s piscine empire is in the Providence Biltmore Hotel, where founder Bill McCormick used to park cars as a boy. In tribute to his alma mater, he wanted it to be number 50, but Birmingham, Alabama, beat us out. Some of his restaurants go under other names, such as Jake’s Famous Crawfish, which McCormick established in Oregon.

As befits the currently classy incarnation of the Biltmore, walking into the Providence McCormick & Schmick’s is like entering some sort of posh club. A posh 200-seat club with a mainly hard-of-hearing membership, that is — the din of conversation approaches disco-level, whether from all the hard surfaces or a deliberate effort to amp up the conviviality quotient.

We admired the beautiful interior as we were led to our table. Columns paneled in dark wood hold graceful Art Deco lamps that matched huge square ceiling fixtures in muted colors. That table was solid mahogany; no veneer here, metaphorical or actual, is the message. The flowers in our booth, in earth tones, even matched the décor.

The large, single-sheet dated menus we were handed — which they claim to print twice a day, to catch up with inventory, so to speak — kept us busy for a while. An extensive wine list is on the back. At the top is a "fresh list" of two-dozen or so seafood items that arrived that day, from which the dishes below are selected. We get specifics: not only is the tilapia from Ecuador, it’s from Guayaquil. The Hawaiian ahi tuna is from the Penguin Banks; I guess that’s in case you wouldn’t touch Kiholo Bay tuna with a 10-foot fork. Pretensions aside, sometimes the information is helpful: the Alaskan salmon is not only from Sitka, it’s wild rather than farmed.

Many menu items are bold-faced to call attention to them, usually as recommendations. Among the appetizers, the seared yellowfin tuna description had the word "rare" so emphasized, which is politer than a cook storming out and personally refusing a request to ruin the delicately flavored fish with extra grilling.

For a starter, we tried the pan-fried Yearling oysters ($7.85), which were also available as a chips-and-coleslaw order ($16.90). Served on a bed of shredded cabbage, the eight Washington State oysters were small but sweet, as lightly battered as possible, but not missing that extra textural crunch. We also had a bowl of the seafood and roasted corn chowder ($3.90/$4.95), which was creamy rich and tasty, but a bit skimpy with three tiny shrimp and one baby scallop. (The tangy sourdough bread, with butter soft enough to spread, almost made up for it.)

There is even "home-style meatloaf" among nine meat and poultry dishes, for those who wandered into the wrong place. But three-dozen seafood offerings provide a proper proportion. Johnnie tried something from the grill, halibut ($20.90). It was thick, moist, and crosshatched in good grill technique. The accompanying tropical salsa sparked up the fish.

Under the "McCormick & Schmick’s specialties," I chose the North Carolina catfish with Gulf shrimp ($16.75). Excellent. Not a trace of muddiness — always a danger with this bottom-feeder — crisply pan-fried and not overwhelmed by the spicy achiote paste-and-bourbon sauce. Both our plates came with the same accompaniments, and not a steamed vegetable medley in sight. White sticky rice, plus a few smoky spears of asparagus, and — wonder of wonders — strands of spaghetti squash, filled out our dishes.

There is no dessert menu. Instead, a tray is brought so you can personally peruse the temptations. The kitchen-made items run from the usual New York cheesecake to a clever caramel-topped (bottomed?) upside-down apple pie. Being greedy for more, we chose a trio of mini-desserts: small bowls of crème brûlée, three-berry cobbler, and chocolate bread pudding ($9.95). The first was so-so, with a thick crust, the second quite acceptable, and the third to die for. We felt like a well-fed Goldilocks.

Not bad, McCormick & Schmick’s. Start with fresh and go on from there.

Bill Rodriguez can be reached at bill@billrod.com.