 |
Say wha? Oh those wacky
Koreans and their monosyllabic names--what are we gonna do with them,
right? All kidding aside, our friends from the East do love their
barbeque. We're not talking Giants Stadium, tailgating bbq, but the
kind you make huddled at a little table, sweating your nuts off while
waves of garlic hit you in the face. Honestly, shouldn't the grub
be cheaper if the customer has to cook it himself? We think so. I
mean, isn't going out to eat all an attempt to avoid staying in your
sweatbox of an apartment, frying up some semi-spoiled product from
Gristedes
or D'Agostino?
All my nonsense aside, this place takes that nice bridge between Asian
and dark wood, modern design, and puts it all together to form the
perfect minimalist Crate & Barrel aesthetic. Honestly, it's not
all as dreadful as I'm making it sound; it's actually quite cool in
here, with the sparse Communist--but cozy--space with its low lighting
and glowing barbeque tables. My experimentation with Korean food extends
about as far as my leap outside of the world of casual dress--I'm
not necessarily opposed to it, only a bit scared and uncomfortable
at the thought. Judging by my Korean friend's grandmother's breathe,
I'm staying the hell away from kimchi and anything else that needs
to be buried in the back yard for a season in order to ferment. I
stick with the cooked meats, which essentially come out as more tender,
tasty pieces of Philly cheese steak meat. Loving cheese steaks myself,
this is a good thing, and completely satisfying in my book. The only
issue, being the bottomless pit that I am, is the disappointment at
the portion size for what you end up paying. The meat, if rolled into
an actual full steak, would be the size of a baby fist. Now, I know
Korean's may be missing the alcohol synthesizing enzyme, but they
certainly aren't missing stomachs. So, what's up? Regardless, this
joint is a good time and is a perfect night to share with a couple
couples over the glow of sizzling steak. Just Do Hwit. [MF]
|