mŏkbar

We’re in a Ramen moment—no doubt about it. In the Times, Pete Wells filed a massive Ramen survey a year ago, and no doubt half-a-dozen more slurp shops have opened since then.

If Wells had written a few months later, perhaps he’d have included mŏkbar (“eat bar”), which specializes in Korean ramen, hearty soup with Japanese noodles and Korean flavors. It occupies a diminutive stall in Chelsea Market, opposite a taco stand. Like many ramen bars, there’s not a ton of room—and what there is, fills up at peak times.

Mŏkbar is the improbable brainchild of Esther Choi, a New Jersey-born twentysomething of Korean descent, who went to Rutgers as a pharmacy major, got a corporate job, hated it, and went to culinary school.

The usual ending to such stories is a lifetime of dicing carrots in anonymity, but Choi persevered, finding steady work as a buyer for Food Network and as a sous-chef at La Esquina.

When a fried chicken stall went out of business at Chelsea Market, Choi jumped at the chance, beating out dozens of other chefs, including more established names, for the right to open her little Korean ramen concept.

Click to read more ...

Mapo Korean BBQ

A couple of months ago, Pete Wells published a survey of a dozen Korean restaurants in Queens. Most are well past the No. 7 train’s Eastern terminus. It takes a car, an L.I.R.R. train ride, or a long walk to reach them—in other words, a schlep. One day last month, we decided to give one of them a try: Mapo Korean BBQ.

It’s no wonder that Wells chose this place as one of his anointed dozen: the place has a sterling reputation. Robert Sietsema, who probably knows this cuisine better than anyone who is not Korean, chose Mapo for his first review on Eater.com, awarding three stars.

Among the grillable meats (which are the whole point of the restaurant), there are just four options. We chose the same dish that Wells ordered, the marinated kalbi, or short rib.

Click to read more ...

Gaonnuri

You might think of Manhattan’s Koreatown as one nondescript low-class barbecue place after another. That would be unjust to one, at least: Gaonnuri, a new upscale spot with a $5+ million opening budget.

What did all that money buy? A stunning space on the 39th floor of a midtown office building, where Koreatown meets Herald Square. It’s the brainchild of architect Andy Sung, a native Korean, who saw the potential in a formerly windowless top-floor that once held ventilation and mechanical equipment.

Sung needs to sell a lot of barbecue to get that money back. Gaonnuri seats 250, and it was no more than 10 percent full on a recent evening, although the Post’s Steve Cuozzo found it busy at lunch.

It isn’t easily found. From the outside, there’s no indication that the building houses a restaurant. When you go in, a hostess checks your name on a reservation list, and only then allows you past the skyscraper’s security system, and onto the elevator.

It makes SHO Shaun Hergatt seem positively easy to get to, and we know how that turned out. Once you’re in, the décor is spectacular, but to some it may feel like a generic upscale Asian hotel restaurant (another charge unfairly leveled at Hergatt).

No one will complain about the unobstructed panoramas of the Empire State Building and the Hudson River. Cuozzo says that these are the best restaurant views since the Rainbow Room closed, and I’ve no reason to doubt him.

Prices are higher than the Koreatown average, but certainly not extortionate, as they tend to be at restaurants with views. The menu is lengthy and a bit confusing. There’s a list of cold and hot dishes that seem to be appetizers, but most of them come in small ($8–15) and large ($15–26) sizes.

Entrées, found on another page, are $15–28. Korean Barbecue is a separate listing, with individual portions $25–34 and platters for two at $60, $90, or $120. Hotpots are $50 for two people.

Cocktails ($10–13) and beers ($7–8) are comparatively inexpensive, and the wine list has plenty of bottles below $50. However, I chose an imported Korean bottled beverage, the Chamisul Fresh ($16; above right), which I can’t begin to describe.

We started with the Sanchae Bibimbap ($18), one of eight varieties of the dish offered here: a serving of mixed vegetables, shown in the photo (above) before it was mixed into a bowl of rice. It appears on the menu as an entrée, though we shared it as a starter.

Yes, I said it’s a bit confusing.

 

We ordered the $60 barbecue platter, which starts with a salad that resembles cole slaw (above left) and a spicy soup (above right).

 

There’s a wide variety of condiments and sauces (above left), and I didn’t photograph all of them, along with three meats (above right): beef brisket, pork belly, and galbi, a marinated beef short rib.

 

As at other Korean barbecue spots, there’s a grill built into every table. As the restaurant was fairly empty, the server cooked the food for us, although when it’s busy I assume this is left up to the customer. The food was excellent, with high-quality ingredients, well prepared.

Gaonnuri is only about a month old. Service is extremely attentive, but the kinks haven’t been worked out. Some of the servers can’t quite explain the menu—or at least, not in English. Bar tabs aren’t transferred to the table.

Is Gaonnuri for you? I didn’t mind spending $120 for two (before tip) for a comfortable, quiet dinner in a gorgeous space, with the best views in town. But you can go down the block, eat in a low-class space, with the food not as good, and spend a lot less. This is a Korean barbecue I’d go back to; the others aren’t.

How they expect to fill 250 seats every night is a good question.

Gaonnuri (1250 Broadway at 32nd Street, 39th Floor, Koreatown)

Food: Very good classic Korean cuisine, highlighted by the barbecue
Service: Attentive and doting, though still learning the rops
Ambiance: A stunning multi-million-dollar space with the best views in town

Rating: ★★
Why? Probably the best Korean barbecue in town, though you’ll pay up for it 

Danji

Is there a “right way” to ration access to a popular restaurant? Our experience at Danji last weekend makes me wonder about that. (If you don’t want to read a rant about getting seated, page down to the asterisk below.)

Danji doesn’t take reservations, which is hardly a novelty in the casual dining scene. But many such places will at least take a phone number, and offer to phone or text when space frees up. Danji won’t even do that. The frequently-disappearing hostess quoted us a 30–45 minute wait, although it later became clear this was extremely optimistic.

“Can we put in our name?”

“What’s your name?”

“Marc.”

“OK, Marc.” She said it quickly and darted away, obviously not writing it down, not keeping a list, or offering to call whan a table freed up.

Had we elected to wait, there is nothing to do but stand against the wall in the narrow slip of a restaurant, as many do. (It’s even worse down the street at Totto Ramen, where a long line snakes out the door.) Instead, we hiked over to Ardesia for wine and crab dip (excellent!).

When we returned, about an hour later, we found the situation not much changed. A 2-top was vacant, and the hostess was nowhere to be seen. When she re-appeared, she gave it to a party whom she said had been waiting an hour; no indication of where we stood on the (non-existent) list.

We were ready to pack it in after another 20 minutes, before she finally seated us. At least we got one of the few tables, where the banquettes are comfortable (although very cramped) and the chairs have backs. Most of the seating is on stools at the bar or a communal table.

I don’t usually spill so much ink on the process of getting admitted to a restaurant, but we thought the service here was particularly poor—even within the context (with which I do not disapprove) of the no-reservations business model.

*

Having said all that, once you finally make it in here, the food is fine. It is not, in my opinion, good enough to justify the effort of getting in, especially as there aren’t any good bars nearby, where you can cool your heals. (Ardesia is a long walk.) But plenty of people endure the wait every day. Their priorities must be different than mine.

The chef here, Hooni Kim, has a distinguished pedigree, with brief stints (or stages?) at Daniel and Masa. He serves Korean small plates, designed for sharing, in a style somewhat resembling Momofuku Ssäm Bar, but the menu is more static and not nearly as good.

The plates are in two categories, Traditional and Modern, with about ten choices for each, $8–20 apiece (most in the $10–15 range). The menu has the usual nods to sourcing, with shout-outs for Satur Farms, Creekstone Farms, Niman Ranch, and Bell & Evans.

The server suggested that four to six plates was about right for two people, and that we could start small and order more later on. Kudos, at least, for that last bit: most places of this ilk ask for the whole order at once. It takes a while to get seated, but once you’re in they are in no hurry to push you out the door.

And to their credit, the four items we ordered came out in a sensible sequence, one at a time, as opposed to the dreaded “as-and-when they’re ready”; but the sharing plates were not replaced.

 

The first two dishes were from the “Modern” section of the menu. Spicy yellowtail sashimi ($15; above left) packed delightful heat from jalapeño and chochang, which (according to Wikipedia) is “a savory and pungent fermented Korean condiment made from red chili, glutinous rice, fermented soybeans and salt.”

Bossam ($20; above right) would impress you, unless you’d had the much better version of it at Momofuku Ssäm Bar. The idea remains the same: braised pork, scallions, daikon, and cabbage wrap. The pork was terrific, but you get only six bites of it for $20.

 

Our second pair of dishes was from the traditional side of the menu. Poached Sablefish ($18; above left) in spicy daikon was flavorful and tender, although the sauce was a bit goopy.

Short Rib ($14; above right), with fingerlings, pearl onions, and toasted pine nuts, may have been the least satisfying: properly cooked short ribs are pretty easy to come by, and this version did little to distinguish itself.

The wine and sake list is short, on the order of twenty-five bottles. The server recommended the 2010 Cuvée Gyotaku Riesling ($38), a Pinot Blanc from Alsace that pairs well with the food. He offered to keep it on ice at the bar, but was too busy to keep tabs when we needed refills.

The reviews here have been all favorable: a Michelin star, one star from Sam Sifton, two stars from Bloomberg’s Ryan Sutton, and four out of five underground stars in New York. The project was obviously assembled with some care (see this blog chronicling its construction).

But Danji has not dealt well with prosperity. The menu has stagnated, and the servers cannot cope with the crowds. Considered on its own, the food is good enough (and inexpensive enough) to be of interest. But I do not think it is worth bothering with, given the hurdles you must jump to get seated. You can do better elsewhere.

Danji (346 W. 52nd Street between Eighth & Ninth Avenues, Hell’s Kitchen)

Food: Traditional and Modern Korean, adequate but not truly exciting
Wine: 25 bottles of wine and sake, well suited to the cuisine
Service: Hostess with an attitude; competent servers stretched to the limit
Ambiance: A cramped, minimalist space, seating 36, many at communal tables

Rating: Not recommended
Why? The food is good enough, but not worth the extremely long waits

Jungsik

Twain said, “I didn’t have time to write a short letter, so I wrote a long one instead.” Or maybe it wasn’t Twain—the statement has been attributed to more than one writer.

Today, I find myself making the opposite excuse. This review is shorter than it ought to be. Jungsik, the new Korean restaurant that opened three months ago in the old Chanterelle space, is excellent. It will probably be #1 on my “Best of 2011” list. But I don’t have time to write a long review, so I’ll make do with general impressions. Here is the most important one:

Go!

Jungsik is the kind of restaurant that should have a detailed and adoring review, because it will get precious few of these. Adam Platt has already given it just one star, even though he thought the cooking deserved three. That’s Platt for you. Sam Sifton was so offended that he slammed the place in his last “Hey, Mr. Critic” column.

To be sure, Jungsik faces a headwind. It’s a clone of a Seoul restaurant, and the city’s critics almost always deduct a star for imported concepts. We loved the quiet, austere space, with its white tablecloths and elegant service. But most of the city’s current crop of critics, having declared fine dining dead, cannot bear to see a restaurant that swims against the tide. (Sam Sifton compared it to an airport lounge, which makes me wonder where he’s been flying.)

Diners are not accustomed to an expensive prix fixe for Korean food, or indeed, for any Asian cuisine except Japanese. There have been adjustments. Jungsik opened with a $125 five-course prix fixe, as much as Eleven Madison Park. It’s good, but it isn’t that good. The current price is $115 for five courses, with a three-course option at $80. That’s a big step in the right direction.

The five-course meal includes a salad, a rice or noodle dish, a fish course, a meat course, and dessert, with three or four choices for each. The three-course option, which we had, includes the first two and one meat or fish course. But it comes with three flights of amuses and petits fours, making it more like a five-course meal anyway. Indeed, I was unable to finish my entrée, which was a pity, as it was the best pork belly I have had all year.

Above and below left: three flights of amuses bouches.

Above right: bread service.

Above left: Bibim with tomato and arugula sorbet.
Above right: Four Seasons with parsley, zucchini, and quail egg.

(The kitchen seems to prefer eccentric platings with all of the food at one edge of the plate. You’ll see that over and over again in these photos.)

Above left: Sea Urchin with Korean seaweed rice and crispy quinoa
Above right: Champs-Elysées with Foie gras and kimchi

Above left: Black Cod
Above right: Five Senses Pork Belly
Below left: Petits fours

Though I’ve not described the dishes in much detail, there wasn’t a dud among them. And for that much food, suddenly $80 doesn’t seem so extravagant.

The drawback is that you can’t dip into the menu selectively. I’d love to go back and order just the pork belly, but I cannot. Platt deducted a whole star for that. But you can’t order à la carte at any of the top ten restaurants in the Platt 101, nor at any restaurant that currently has four stars from The Times.

The question is whether Jungsik will be able to get away with charging as if it’s a four-star (or high three-star) restaurant. It was about 3/4ths full by 9:00 p.m. on a Wednesday evening, but December is always a good month for restaurants. The acid test is to survive the winter.

It’s not for me to predict the future, only to say what Jungsik is now: a three-star restaurant.

Jungsik (2 Harrison Street at Hudson Street)

Food: ***
Service: ***
Ambiance: ***
Overall: ***

Persimmon

 

Note: Persimmon closed as of August 2009. The space became The Brindle Room.

*

The new Korean restaurant Persimmon opened quietly in the East Village a couple of months ago. So far, it has rave reviews in New York and the Village Voice to its name.

Critics have noted the similarity to Momofuku Ko: low seating capacity (24), backless stools, and a prix-fixe Korean-inspired menu that goes heavy on the pork and kimchi. The staffing level is similar to Ko: four chefs, a dishwasher, and two servers. The head man, Youngsun Lee, even has some Momofuku time on his resume.

The open kitchen

The differences are significant, too. Dinner is $37 for five courses—a stunningly good value. There is a printed menu, which changes bi-weekly, offering four or five choices for the appetizer, mid-course, and main course. The cuisine is more authentically Korean, in contrast to David Chang’s Momofuku empire, which borrows from many cultures and cooking styles.

Most importantly, you can get into Persimmon without playing Momofuku Ko’s website lottery. Reservations are accepted by phone and seem to be readily available. Persimmon caters to a late-arriving East Village crowd: less than half full at 8:00 p.m. on a Saturday evening, but full by 9:30.

Persimmon isn’t as good as Ko, but at roughly one-third the price it is well worth your time and attention. There will be a new menu by the time you read this, but it will give an idea of what Chef Lee is up to.

The restaurant seats twenty at a long communal table, and four at a bar that faces the open kitchen. We were lucky enough to be seated at the bar, so we were able to watch the food being prepared and have a dialog with the chef.

 
Left: Grilled Korean Blood Sausage; Right: Fried Stuffed Squash Blossoms

I started with the Grilled Korean Blood Sausage, served with pig’s liver, pig’s stomach, scallions and Korean herbs. The menu admits that the sausage comes from Min Sok Restaurant in Flushing. It’s an understatement to say that this dish isn’t for everybody, but I loved the salty, hot, intense flavor.

My girlfriend was impressed with the Fried Stuffed Squash Blossoms, filled with scallop, tofu, and Korean miso. Squash blossom season is ending, so this dish is almost certainly no longer on the menu.

Sliced Braised Pork Belly

For the second course, we both chose the Sliced Braised Pork Belly, or Bo Ssäm. Despite the similar name, don’t expect the Momofuku Ssäm Bar version. The pork comes pre-sliced, with kimchi, salted Napa cabbage and salted baby shrimp on the side.

I thought the pork was a bit too bland. As you can see in the photo, it’s unadorned white squares of pork. My girlfriend didn’t share that complaint, perhaps because her portion had more fat. We both loved the intense moo woo kimchi, which I used as a meat garnish.

 
Right: Monkfish Stew; Left: Kimchi Stew

All of the main courses are soups or stews. My girlfriend chose the Kimchi Stew, with onion, tofu, scallions, mushrooms and pork. I had the Monkfish stew with mussels, soybean sprouts, red peppers, chives, garlic and honey.

Both stews came out in their own crockpots, so hot that the broth was still bubbling. Had they spilled on us at that point, we would have been in the E.R. with first-degree burns. It was quite a while before we could dare taste them. Both were spicy and intensely flavorful. Mine was filled with huge chunks of monkfish, vegetables, and a good half-dozen clams. Eating it without a knife (not supplied, and not available) was a challenge, though well worth it. I don’t normally like to work for my food, but this was a rewarding exception.

  
Left: Browned Rice Porridge; Center: Korean cookies; Right: Fermented fish intestines

No choice is offered for the last two courses, and both were letdowns. The chef assured us that Browned Rice Porridge is a Korean standard, but to us it just seemed like dull rice with warm tea poured over it. There was a far better rice side dish served with the main course. A second rice dish didn’t really add much. Dessert came in the form of traditional Korean cookies (sesame, black sesame and wild sesame), which were dry and a bit unexciting.

There were various side dishes served with the meal. I don’t remember them all, but they were mostly terrific, especially a bowl of kimchi-infused vegetables that we regretted we were too full to finish. Then again, maybe it was too much of a good thing. I also liked a serving of dried salted anchovies, but I don’t recommend the fermented fish intestines.

Persimmon is BYOB, and apparently there’s no intention to change that, but they have nice stemless glasses and ice buckets for white wine. Taken with the almost unbelievably low $37 prix fixe, Persimmon must be one of the best deals in town.

The service staff were friendly and kept on top of things, but the restaurant didn’t really get crowded until the end of our meal. The décor is spare but pleasant, assuming you don’t mind the backless stools. The orange placemats and decorative metal chopsticks were a nice touch, but silverware was not replaced between courses.

The New York review said that the multi-course meal “requires the dedication of the greater part of an evening.” We didn’t find that to be the case; our meal took about 90 minutes, of which about 20 minutes was the time it took for our main courses to cool down to a safe temperature.

Some of the food here is adventurous (blood sausage, fish intestines), but there are “safe” choices for every course, such as chicken dumplings, grilled scallops and miso stew with seafood. There is at least one vegetarian option for each course.

Persimmon is a first-class experience of its kind, and a welcome addition to a Momofuku-dominated neighborhood.

Persimmon (277 E. 10th Street, west of Avenue A, East Village)

Food: **
Service: *½
Ambiance: *½
Overall: **

Woo Lae Oak

Note: Woo Lae Oak closed at the end of May 2011, when it lost its lease.

*

A friend of mine absolutely swears by Woo Lae Oak, a Korean barbecue restaurant in Soho. At her suggestion we gave it a try last week. The space is large, the vibe dark and sexy, the tables generously spaced. Though there were just two of us, we were seated at a four-top, with partitions separating our table from those on either side of ours. It almost felt like a semi-private room.

She steered us clear of the appetizers, based on past experience. There are some 17 barbecue choices, priced $18–39, of which we selected two: black tiger prawns and sliced beef rib eye (both $24). Cook-it-yourself food is always plenty of fun. We were particularly impressed with the rib eye’s intense flavor.

She selected a rice dish, Dol Sot Bi Bim Bap (steamed rice with vegetables in a hot stone bowl) ($18), again based on past experience, which was a spicy delight. Dinner also comes with a salad and garnishes, and with the two barbecue dishes this probably would have been enough.

But we also ordered the black cod and daikon radish in a spicy, sweet garlic soy sauce ($28), which was superb, ranking right up there with Nobu’s famous preparation. I would run back to Woo Lae Oak for this dish alone.

We didn’t drink alcohol. Dinner for two was $102 including tax, before tip. I don’t believe I’ve tried Korean barbecue anywhere else, so I can’t make comparisons, but Woo Lae Oak was plenty of fun, and we were quite happy with our meal.

Woo Lae Oak (148 Mercer Street between Prince & Houston Streets, SoHo)

Food: **
Service: **
Ambiance: **
Overall: **