For as much we laud New York City's myriad hole-in-the-wall establishments for their subtle, honest (and much appreciated) approach to great food, we can't help but do so against a backdrop of culinary grandiosity. After all, the extreme if not over-indulgent eating experience as we know it today, got its start in this great city - borne out of a New York food culture addicted to excess and pining for prestige.
And it is thanks to the fervent development of the large-scale eating concept that small-scale, 30-seat spots can flourish. These are the two sides to the culinary experience in New York City - the Ying and the Yang of our collective yen for the best of what there is to eat.
While the constant rumblings of the self-enamored blogosphere would have you believe that the proliferation of locavore, uber-organic, shoe-box operations across the 5 boroughs are where it's at in New York City, I would disagree. It's not that I decry the legitimacy of the small joint - how can I when Little Owl's meatball sliders are on my mind daily - it's just that too many, for too long have come to adopt this notion that quality is inversely related to quantity. An assertion that implies that none of us has never eaten at a tiny spot with boring food and abhorrently inattentive service, nor marveled at the unforgettably impeccable experience provided by a triumphant dining establishment.
It just simply isn't true and there may be no better an example than almighty Buddakan.
Easily the most dramatic, most soigne outfit in Philly-based Stephen Starr's eponymous restaurant organization, Buddakan remains one of the most elusive reservations in the city to this date. Let it be known that, my brother, who comments frequently on here as the Uberchef, is a sous chef at Jones, Starr's wildly successful comfort food concept in center City Philadelphia.
So with an insider by my side, and an equally as discerning set of taste buds, we set out to conquer Buddakan, one dumpling at a time.
Sharing the block with Chelsea Market on 9th avenue between 15th and 16th streets, Buddakan is, for a lack of a better term, utterly huge. With its dark slate exterior, minimal signage shrouded in what has to be purposefully insufficient lighting, this warehouse-type structure is ominous in appearance and almost Fascist in design - but in a good way. Commanding constant attention from its perch over bustling 9th avenue, I am reminded of Milan's main train station, Milano Centrale - vast, square, enthralling yet intimidating and still strangely welcoming at the same time.
Contrary to pop culture's advice, at Buddakan, you do want to go into the light, you absolutely do. This is a decision for which you will be greatly rewarded.
Beyond the giant Double Doors, a small "white" room leads you to main room anchored by a "front desk" of hostesses that I would compare to a hotel concierge.
Once you "check in", your cacophonous culinary journey begins at the jam-packed bar area that is as much a weigh station for the clearly hungry as it is for the overtly thirsty. Amidst the steady tide of trance beats and lounge tracks, clamorous bar chatter and an overall positive, zen-like energy envelopes the room. This onslaught of sight and sound subsides as quickly as it initially consumes you as the metronomic vibe of the bar swiftly transitions to a cathedral dining room, to which access is granted only by navigating the grand descending staircase. As beautiful as it is treacherous for those who've had a few drinks at the bar, the stairs are a portal to the next stage of this culinary journey.
And yet as much as I'm impressed with the dashing ornaments that adorn the walls, and the lavish light fixtures that barely illuminate the space, I obviously remember that I've come to Buddakan for the food. Let's not forget that.
As is the case with Starr's flagship concept of "Global Tapas" featured at Philadelphia's epic Continental, the pace and cadence of the meal at Buddakan is constant, capricious, and entirely exhilarating. You never know what you're getting, and when, which makes it easy to forget what you even ordered to begin with. It is for this reason that no two meals at Buddakan can ever be truly the same - and that in and of itself, is a wonderful attribute to this downtown demon of delectation.
And so the meal begins...
We were first regaled with the King Crab Sui Mei (below left), Buddakan's twist on a Dim Sum classic, pairing succulent king crab with oil-glistened strips of roasted red pepper in a dumpling-type format. Albeit less exciting, just as satisfying were the pork pot-stickers, which arrived as you'd expect, accompanied by a tart soy vinegar for dipping. This sort of luxury sistered with simplicity represents the exact culinary dichotomy of style and flavor that makes the entire Buddakan experience that much more enthralling than your usual night at the dinner table. The Sui Mei, though small in stature, scream with flavor, while the much less flamboyant pot-stickers are just as successful in imploring you to reach for another bite, if not more so. But that would defeat the purpose of what Buddakan is all about. At a meal designed to accentuate variety, your worst enemy is the need for quantity. In saying that, I reluctantly move on.
Equally duplicitous, and without question thoroughly more indulgent, was the next culinary coupling comprising the Boneless Spare Ribs (Below left), and the Lobster Spring rolls (Below right).
The Boneless Spare Ribs were the perfect mix of sweet, tangy, and tender, and disappeared from the table in less than a minute. That said, the Lobster Spring Rolls, while undoubtedly tasty and rich in lobster goodness, seemed all too predictable in presentation. Disappointed in the quantity (yes in this case quantity matters), and looking for more, my vacuous discomfort was remedied, at least in part, by a dipping sauce that was probably too spicy for everyone else at the table but me. Points for that.
On to the Hoisin Glazed Pork Belly (below left), which was probably my favorite dish of the entire night. Thick, bacon-like slabs of fatty, salty pork belly ensconced in a viscous sheath of tangy Hoisin sauce, sit comfortably on a bed of crisp cabbage. The accompanying steamed buns, in their familiar "flopped-over" shape, are light, airy, and "deflatable" in a sort of cotton candy way, and are an excellent vessel for enjoying the crunch of the cabbage against the salty tartness of the pork. At this stage of the meal, I would venture to say the pork belly was the fan favorite and was going to be tough to beat.
Conversely, probably the most disappointing, most mundane dish of the night, was the Lobster Fried Rice (below right). Having enjoyed incredibly decadent Lobster Mashed Potatoes at Continental last summer, which stills warrant discussion from time to time, we were only being fair in maintaining high hopes that Starr's culinary klan would do similar justice to fried rice, an even more hackneyed food stuff that has managed to infiltrate the ever-devolving American diet.
Unfortunately, the Lobster Fried Rice, which boasted crispy scallops and celery on the menu, was tasteless, dry, and downright inexplicably boring. To say the lobster was used sparingly here would be as gross an understatement as saying President Obama tends to be long-winded. For those morsels that did make it to the final plating, they were diminutive and forgettable, perched atop a bed of rice that did nothing for the lobster, or me for that matter, and didn't seem to resemble fried rice in any way shape or form. In fairness, my dislike for the dish is exacerbated by the fact that a lackluster rice situation would've been mitigated by the presence of sumptuous, obscenely succulent hunks of Lobster. In this case, no such hunks existed, and for as much as this plate costs, that's simply a shame.
Having handled just the small plates portion of the meal and now past my disappointment in the lobster friend rice, we rounded out the night with two large entrees. First, the Szechuan Crusted NY Ribeye (below), a handsome hunk of meat wearing a spicy crust, hacked into 6 sizable pieces, and dabbling its "toes" in a tangy pool of dark jus. Golden brown "Turnip Fries", fish-stick like in form, are a much welcome low-carb alternative to the plate, paying homage to the hearty, earthy richness of this under-appreciated root vegetable by surrounding it with a little crunch for good measure. This dish is a true exemplar of Buddakan's undeniable ability to take the familiar and make it pleasurably unfamiliar.
Along the same lines of creativity, the grilled Pork Tenderloin (Below) was delicately grilled, and sliced in similar fashion to the Ribeye, joined by Chinese bacon and "Beijing eggplant". Tender, properly cooked, and sopped in an incredible sweet jus, this dish just solidifies my feeling that Buddakan's respect for protein is of the utmost importance in its quest for injecting Asian flare into American tradition.
As is the case at most, if not all, of the restaurants in Starr's ever expanding empire, dining at Buddakan is a regal experience that provides a feast for all the senses. Long before its Sex and the City cameo, this monster in the Meatpacking District has successfully brought meaning to the term "Asian Fusion", using smart flavor combinations in tandem with careful moderation to create intelligent food that is not only pretty, but exceptionally flavorful.
I applaud Starr Restaurant Organization for making Buddakan an epic experience that is without effrontery. Pop culture fuels an overall perception of large-scale dining in New York that has all but written off the possibility of an extraordinary yet straightforward meal in an even more extraordinary setting. Through Buddakan, lives on the fighting spirit that will always remind us that in the biggest city in the world, big, quite honestly, is often better.
Size does matter and I'd be wary of anyone who tells you otherwise.
Buddakan (map it)
75 9th Ave, New York, NY
(212) 989-6699
Food: A (beautiful food with even more beautiful flavors - save for the Lobster Fried Rice)
Ambiance: A (extravagant and opulent but comfortable at the same time)
Service: A (impeccable, attentive, accommodating at all times)
In a thought: "At Buddakan, you can't help but think bigger is better."
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