a ROYAL makeover: Kings of Kobe

RER 8.23.17

What is more classic than hamburgers and hot dogs? Nothing, except perhaps the regal American wagyu “Kobe style” counterparts at Kings of Kobe in Hell’s Kitchen. At Kings of Kobe, they have taken American favorites, elevated them with fine ingredients, and made them into royalty.  

Even though there is an on-the-go feel inside the small space, complete with colorful murals and fiery orange stools set against dark furniture, it is apparent that thoughtful innovation has inspired the most regal makeovers for the plain burger and dog. The small storefront on 9^th Avenue offers big flavors, because King of Kobe dresses up what goes between the buns with a range of unexpected combinations that come together like classics. 

RER 8.23.17

Kings of Kobe is keen to lay on the fresh toppings and unique sauces for both their dogs and burgers. We are here for the freshness that comes in the form of fruit relishes, fresh vegetables, an assortment of cheeses, amongst others. Each addition works together to make the high-grade beef kingly.

There is nothing typical or bland about the list of hot dog and hamburger offerings.  Even the King’s Classic hot dog isn’t topped with just plain ol’ mustard, but there is sauerkraut and sautéed red onions to take it up a notch and the King’s Standard burger goes beyond the standard with roasted tomato, pickles, white cheddar, and a not-so-standard cherry pepper aioli. 

RER 8.23.17

The All Nighter hot dog at first glance seems more traditional: bacon, sautéed red onions, bleu cheese dressing. But Kings of Kobe would add on the surprising element of lemon zest. That brightness of lemon highlights the tang of the bleu cheese and brings out the sweetness of the onions and the saltiness of the bacon. It is not a battle of toppings that could outshine one another, but rather a song and dance that make us want to call the hot dog Your Highness.

RER 8.23.17

The Louis Louis has a lot going on underneath that bun. The burger is topped with spinach and a runny sunny side up egg, and crowned with a heaping pile of crunchy bacon and a thick drizzle of roasted garlic aioli. Here, the silky earthiness of the spinach overwhelms the burger, which is not quite front row center. Although an egg is reminiscent of breakfast, this egg does the savory work and pulls the flavors together with a smooth ribbon of yolk. The varying textures on this bun are pleasing and engaging.

Please, do not skimp on sides ranging from chili fries, to onion rings, to slaw, to a mixed green salad. The herbed truffle fries make you feel like a queen. There is the crunch, the aroma, the salt, all of the things one wants most from delicious fries.

And don’t forget dessert. After chowing down on the umami of layered savory hot dogs and burgers, give that sweet tooth a chance to come out and play with the royals. A tall twist of whipped cream hides the loose banana pudding studded with Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal in the playful All Hail the Banana dessert. Like with the savories, even the sweets play deliciously to American nostalgia.

Kings of Kobe has truly created the burger and hot dog monarchy.

RER

10.7.17

RER 8.23.17

-->

truffle TAKEOVER: STK Meatpacking

RER 10.3.13

Dinner was more of a dance party than anything. STK wants to be an experience. Instead, it was just a place where some old masters mates could eat and be merry. Bumping music, red wine, and overblown food induced the desired merriment.

I was almost not hungry it was so late. But I was with foodies familiar with the menu, so decisions were swift and assertive. Only the starters seemed interesting, so my close friend and I greedily decided to share four. In the end, there was a lot of plate passing and seated gyrations.

The two plump scallops were perfect— seared, succulent and lovely. The heat was a welcomed unexpected contrast. The lemon ­­preserve, however, was unappealing. Its bitterness overwhelmed the delicate sweetness of the scallop, casting a dingy shadow on the appetizer.

The two wagyu beef sliders of the downsized Lil’ Burgers appetizer were a three bite take on comfort food. But the truffle oil doused bun did the sliders no favors. It was strong and felt forced, like a mask for the simple favorite to become something elevated.

Topped with moot frisee, served with forgotten crackers and bathed in black truffle aioli, the beef tartar was luxurious but also dirtily addictive. The raw meat flavors were lost in the combative aroma of truffles. Only the chewy texture remained, hinting at what it was meant to be. Though the tuna tartar was lighter, the soy honey emulsion had a similar cloaking effect as the truffle.

We didn’t really want to share the decadent foie gras French toast with our long lost colleagues, but sharing is caring. Sweet, savory, buttery, meaty, rich; the appetizer was a whimsical play on pan prepared foie gras with plain toast points. The airy almond brioche drizzled with sherry gastrique housed a thin slab of foie gras topped with soft tart green apples. The different supple textures echoed the luxurious flavors and the spike of tangy apple.

RER 10.3.13

The shape of the pasta in the lobster mac and cheese was reminiscent of the elbows of memories past, but the mature addition of lobster sweetened the cheesy dish. As many adult mac and cheeses use real cheese (not the bright orange variety from a pouch), this too had a grainy texture that baffled the mouth while the flavors seduced it.

The soufflé-like corn pudding was shockingly appetizing, sweet and pillowy, with a dark decadence that sided with the savory. It tasted like heavenly warm ice cream, interrupted with terrestrial golden corn kernels.

After consuming far too much liver, fancy beef, raw items and truffle (and wine for that matter), we indulged further with the requisite dessert. Each dessert was a playful rendition of a staple or a memory. Like the doughnuts coated in white sugar with white and milk chocolate sauces, served from a paper bag like at a fair with a trendy twist.

Or the birthday cake,  a dessert only a princess could imagine. It was a pretty column; a white fondant encased base topped with a spiral of baby pink frosting and crowned with clear candy and floating sprinkles. Beneath the buttery sweet parapet was a thick layer of dense almond cake, which rested on a cylinder of cookie dough ice cream. Sugary like childhood dreams and fairytales, in the end, was just too much.

 Many aspects of the Meatpacking eatery were just that, excessive. From the incessant and detrimental use of truffles, to the superfluous layers of flavors and ingredients, even to the heart-pounding music and slinky decor, it was hard to fully enjoy the meal. STK did succeed in creating an “experience.”

RER

10.3.13

RER 10.3.13