The Lovely Dining Companion and I decided to investigate a board favorite last night: Katsu. So, after enduring 94-degree heat, motionless air, and maniacs with shopping carts at the last night of the Brandeis Book Fair, we found ourselves walking into Katsu at about 7:30 last evening. Two or three tables and three seats at the sushi bar were occupied. (By the time we left, about an hour or so later, the place dining room was far better occupied.)
We understand that Katsu is highly reputed for its sushi. But a careful reading of various threads also disclosed that the cooked dishes are thought to excellent as well. LDC doesn’t eat raw fish as a rule and, though I enjoy it greatly, I simply didn’t feel sushi-ish last evening. Still, given the highly favorable posts on various LTH threads, we were excited about the possibilities that awaited. The menu is large and varied with a number of tempting choices and we had more difficulty than normal in settling on our order.
Our waiter lacked much human warmth or friendliness, more interested in taking the order and serving it than in assisting us. Well, okay. We’ve been there before. Disappointing, but not gonna get in the way of a great dinner. We split the goma-ae and gyoza and both appetizers were promising; LDC pronounced the former among the best she’s had in Chicago (for the record, LDC is of Japanese descent and moved here two years ago from LA, where only last week we feasted on the omakase at Matsuhisa. Wow!). The gyoza was also very good, though perhaps a bit oily.
Sadly, things went downhill from there. LDC ordered chawan-mushi, a homey comfort food (basically an egg custard, which is how the menu listed it) that included eel last night and was featured as a special. Although she pronounced it good, the entrée portion came to about one cup. At $14—quite overpriced, particularly given the ingredients and the rather astonishing portion size—one would expect either “startlingly good” or merely excellent and a larger portion. Even LDC, a person of small appetite, was obliged to order something else. She chose the California roll, only to be disappointed again. Granted that a California roll is not—nor should it be—the standard by which any Japanese restaurant should be judged, I was still startled to hear her question whether the crab was crab. And the roll, by any measure, was small (in circumference, that is).
My sukiyaki, on the other hand, was a good-sized portion, served bubbling hot in a cast iron skillet. A generous serving of meat, onion, and Chinese cabbage, though rather lacking in mushrooms (in attendance, but underrepresented). The surprising thing was the broth. Though the flavor “profile” was right, it was mild to the point of blandness. LDC looked at me askance when I made that pronouncement. I insisted that she taste it and was rewarded, I suppose, when she looked up in surprised agreement. The price, $18, was, I think, a bit high; but what was intriguing was the extraordinary disparity between the price (and portion) of the sukiyaki and the price (and portion) of the chawan-mushi.
All in all, we were disappointed. The meal was not a bad meal but given the enthusiastic encomiums (encomia?) from multiple respected sources on this board, we were both surprised and disillusioned. Would we go back? Yes. Perhaps they had an off night (though that wouldn’t account for the price of the chawan-mushi). Perhaps we were in an overly critical mood. But I should also note that the last “taste” of the evening was the bill. Our server managed to charge us $21 for my $9 glass of sake. When called to his attention, he quickly blamed the error on someone else, even as he apologized. We certainly don’t hold a mistake like this against anyone. Mistakes happen. Still, the response was troubling too: more in the nature of, “You’re right, someone else made a mistake. We’ll be happy to fix it but please don’t bother us again.”
Following a pricey dinner that we both found no better than good, it left a bad taste. To offer one quick comparison, we have eaten quite happily at Renga-Tei several times, a place with perhaps slightly fewer pretensions (I do
not mean than in a negative way). Even discounting our first visit there when a diner was evacuated by paramedics (the only thing more remarkable than the interruption was the nonchalant way virtually everyone in the place ignored the incident), we have found the food routinely high in quality and execution. (Not to mention cheaper than Katsu.)
We’ll be curious for others’ reactions to our evening.
Gypsy Boy
"I am not a glutton--I am an explorer of food." (Erma Bombeck)