Yokiyo: I like what I’m having, but what are they having?
Please note that since writing this blog post, Yokiyo has closed down
Friday night was all quite exciting because I got “recognised”. You know, like Ruth Reichl before she started wearing disguises to eat in restaurants. I suppose technically it wasn’t my face that got recognised – just my name. Which I suppose also means I could just book under a false name and no one would be any the wiser. But never let the facts get in the way of dreaming of being a fully salaried reviewer for the New York Times…
I digress. The waiter at new Korean restaurant Yokiyo and I had crossed paths at Korean Taco Party – the pop-up concept that was the precursor to this new, fixed venue. It’s one of only a handful of pop-ups that have gone permanent, and I was excited to see what they’d made of the place. The venue is an indecisive person’s nightmare: downstairs, there’s a bar area and long benches where you can order drinks and a casual bar menu. Upstairs are several four-six person tables that basically function as indoor barbecues – meaning there are shallow pits in the middle with large metal pipes above each one to extract the smoke. And finally, you reach the “salon” in which a five-course tasting menu is served. It was a process of elimination: our duo was too small for a special barbecue table, and there were no customers at the benches downstairs, so we opted for the chef’s menu in the upstairs salon…
Or so we thought. We’d been told they would bring us a fixed selection of dishes to share, which sounded perfect because (you’ve guessed right) I am that indecisive person when it comes to menus. First from the kitchen came two soft-shell crabs with a sour limey-chilli dip, and two fried meat-filled dumplings with a spicy soy dip. We were merrily enjoying the fresh sourness of our Korean finger food when we noticed that the ladies opposite us had oysters.
Now, I may not get jealous in love, but I certainly suffer from envy when it comes to food. I asked the waiter what they had that we didn’t: fresh oysters with crispy fried duck and spring onions, came the answer, and they were available to order as extras. So we did. They were a little briney for my taste, as was the seafood soup we had two courses later, although its chilli kick was warming on a cold day.
Next came possibly my favourite dishes: gem lettuce leaves, which we stuffed DIY-style with pork and duck and a spring onion dressing, and ate like mini-wraps. Alongside them was a light salad of chicken, pickled root vegetables and frisée. But again, I snuck a glance at our table neighbours: they were eating what looked to be crab claws, and I felt the familiar tug of greed. This time, however, I resisted, too embarrassed to ask for extras again.
The main course was a selection of Korean barbecue – presumably a sample of what the diners at the special pits-and-pipes tables were eating behind us. I didn’t go over to find out – I couldn’t face wanting all the bangs and whistles they were having, too. Ours was excellent, though: three varieties of pork (a way to a foodie’s heart is through her pig obsession) and one of duck, all with various sides of kimchi, dips, veges and more lettuce for wrapping.
By this point, I was starting to wonder whether we were burning up more calories than we were eating, it was all that healthy. But then some rice arrived and I gratefully stocked up on some carbs. Dessert was pretty healthy too: a spicy fruit salad, pear poached in miso, and green tea ice cream.
The five courses plus a bottle of crisp Italian white and a glass of Korean rice wine came to €50 each, which I think was good value, although would probably have felt better had it not involved repeated food envy. Next time, I plan to find a group of people to do the whole barbecue thing, and make good and sure that the kitchen knows we want absolutely everything there is on offer. With food this healthy, we don’t even need to feel guilty about it either. Envy and guilt – gone in a puff of barbecue smoke.
