Friday, January 8, 2010

Kiki's Review: Not A Strip Club

Have you ever had a meal, and afterward you wished you could take it all back? Somehow remove that food from your body? I had a such a meal tonight. Yikes.

Kiki's Casual Dining. The name should had been warning enough. Kiki's? Casual dining? In my own defense, the name of the place didn't exactly break my cardinal rules of Japanese restaurant names. (E.g., Avoid any place called --Bowl and avoid a place offering sushi and cuisine of an entirely different region on the same menu when the place is not a fusion restaurant. The worst offenders have names like this: East Sea Teriyaki Bowl Asian Bistro, pho and sushi bar.) I was trying to keep an open mind, and plus, the place boasts real Japanese home cooking. (see http://www.kikisjapaneserestaurant.com/) I love Japanese home cooking.

The decor here is summed up in one word: cluttered. This didn't detract me, as I've been in plenty of cluttered Japanese eateries (even in Japan) that were delicious. Kiki's had a mess of trendy tables, chairs, and booths, mixed with old shelving piled haphazardly with large ceramic plates. The wait staff was, well, in a word, unenthusiastic. Kind of depressed, actually. But I took heart because the place was packed. Every table was full. I felt a twinge of disappointment, though, when I realized that the Asian clientele was not Japanese and most of the all Asian employees were also not Japanese. (In my experience, non-Japanese clientele and non-Japanese ownership/cooks at an "authentic" Japanese restaurant usually equals sugary sauces and a plethora of other culinary sins.)

Let's move on to the food. Again, in a word, unenthusiastic. Also unskilled. Two items were good: the fried oysters and the fried chicken (kaki-furai and karaage). That's about it. Their miso soup is made with a mushroom broth, which, if you know me, you know is tres offensive. But even then, I was still optimistic because I know that there are people out there who actually enjoy the 'shrooms. Then my seaweed soup arrived. It was like someone poured soysauce into a bowl of water, added seawed and sesame, threw in some raw onion chunks, and called it soup.

I ordered two different kinds of roasted fish, both of which were obviously prepared by someone who had no idea what they were cooking. Seriously, can we at least GUT THE DARN FISH?!?! And then NOT cook it until it's rubbery? And then the squid--geez! It was presented so unappetizingly that we didn't even want to try it. Giant whole squid, sliced and sliding around on a bed of some kind of soy-ginger-garlic-sugar sauce. But we did. So, so, so not worth the effort. I won't even get into the rest of the meal, my friends. I shall spare you the details.

My poor husband finally just gave up part way through the meal. His exact words: "I can't. I just can't."

I admit, when it comes to Japanese home cooking, I grew up with the best. My Oba-chan (grandma) was an excellent cook. She roasted fish perfectly every time. She fried her fried food perfectly. Her flavorings were impeccable. Not too sweet, always packed with flavor. I know I hold a high standard. However, I still won't be going back to Kiki's. No thank you.

Oh, I wish my dinner wasn't in me!

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