Chinatown's go-to place for fresh seafood is a subterranean hideaway with no decor to speak of. You won't be looking around much anyway -- the service is so fast that just saying "calamari" seems to make spicy dry-fried salted squid appear on your table. Gobble it up while it's hot, then turn to the delicious dishes that follow in lightning-quick order: messy clams with black-bean sauce, braised chicken hot pot, an emerald-green pile of stir-fried pea-pod stems. Spicy salt shrimp -- you can eat them whole, shells, heads, and all -- is only the most recent commendable dish I've tried here; my favorite is that same spicy salt preparation applied to meltingly tender scallops. Fair warning to the soft-hearted: Order the Cantonese classic fresh fish steamed with ginger and scallions, and the poor creature appears at your table thrashing in a plastic bucket before reappearing moments later, perfectly cooked. Peach Farm is virtually indistinguishable from the rest of the little restaurants that dot Chinatown's narrow side streets, except that it's so crowded -- savvy locals and celebratory groups fill both compact dining rooms every night.