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Shuko is a new kaiseki place (located on that rather odd block of E. 12th between University and Broadway) opened by the guys who used to run Neta. It's now kaiseki with a lot of sushi courses; eventually, one hears, they plan to offer a sushi omekase as well.

 

The food is slightly fushiony -- or, to put it more fairly, American-influenced -- and all the better for that, as far as I'm concerned (this being America and all). Aside from an apple pie slice at dessert, that means a slightly heavier hand with the fats than you might otherwise expect, and some unexpected flavor accents.

 

The kaiseki menu costs $175, and seems to go on foreover (in a good way). I was with someone and didn't take any notes, but I loved it. Really loved it. I wish I could go into more detail. But I can't.

 

If you like this kind of thing, you just have to go there.

 

The soundtrack is hip-hop. So far, so good. They played one old Snoop song, though, that was so outrageously degrading to women that it almost ruined the night for me. I don't know if I can return to a restaurant that would play something like that. Places should really vet their playlists for content as well as feel. It's hard enough sitting through all that offensive cock rock that Batalli and sometimes Colicchio play. This was just beyond the pale.

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Shuko is a new kaiseki place (located on that rather odd block of E. 12th between University and Broadway) opened by the guys who used to run Neta. It's now kaiseki with a lot of sushi courses; eventually, one hears, they plan to offer a sushi omekase as well.

 

The food is slightly fushiony -- or, to put it more fairly, American-influenced -- and all the better for that, as far as I'm concerned (this being America and all). Aside from an apple pie slice at dessert, that means a slightly heavier hand with the fats than you might otherwise expect, and some unexpected flavor accents.

 

The kaiseki menu costs $175, and seems to go on foreover (in a good way). I was with someone and didn't take any notes, but I loved it. Really loved it. I wish I could go into more detail. But I can't.

 

If you like this kind of thing, you just have to go there.

 

The soundtrack is hip-hop. So far, so good. They played one old Snoop song, though, that was so outrageously degrading to women that it almost ruined the night for me. I don't know if I can return to a restaurant that would play something like that. Places should really vet their playlists for content as well as feel. It's hard enough sitting through all that offensive cock rock that Batalli and sometimes Colicchio play. This was just beyond the pale.

I was at The Mint ("famous" karaoke bar) a few years ago and someone chose that (I'd bet money it was the same) song. The place was the quietest I've heard it and reading along to those lyrics definitely was different than randomly hearing the song somewhere.

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One of the highlights of my year in eating is to get together once or twice with “The Minnesota Foodnuts”, a couple who eat their brains out all over the USA and abroad. We’ve met up in NYC, DC, Chicago, and Nice. It has become tradition that we go to a restaurant most Memorial Day weekends here in New York. I picked the restaurant this time, and based on several very enjoyable meals at Neta when Nick Kim and Jimmy Lau were there, my choice was Shuko, which is where these two chefs decamped. The morning line looked very good: a near-top rating by Wells and nothing but positive opinions here and there.

 

About once every year or two my wife and I have a meal or two that profoundly infuriates us for the unfulfilled promises and the emptying of our wallets. In 2009 it was Momofuko-ko; 2010 Blue Hill at Stone Barns; 2012, L’Astrance; 2013, Can Roca; 2014 Eleven Madison Park; and 2015 Calendre, outside of Padova, as well as Komi in DC. To this group I can now add 2016’s entry, Shuko. On first glance, one may noticed the diversity in quasi- cuisines--Italian, French, Spanish, Japanese and a few without a country, but what they all have in common, to put it politely, is that they all put you in a straitjacket and serve you little bits of this and little bites of that, always of their choosing.

 

Fairly well in advance of the meal itself, there were a few warning signs about Shuko that I should have heeded by cancelling what was a pain-in-the-neck reservation to obtain. What I immediately recognized mostly from reading Shuko’s website is that the owners of the restaurant run it like an airline.

 

 

 

 

 

Due to high demand and the nature of our menu, we allow a certain time for guests dining. We will only hold a reservation for 15 minutes, otherwise you will have to wait for the next time we can accommodate, which may be a different day.

We require a valid credit card to hold all reservations. Our cancellation policy involves a charge of $135 per person if the reservation hasn't been cancelled at least 24 hours in advance for parties of 4 or less, and 48 hours for parties of 5 or more.

 

 

When my wife and I arrived at the restaurant 15 minutes before our 8:00 reservation (That’s how scared we were), I asked greeter Danielle what happens with a party of four if one couple arrives on-time and the other more than 15 minutes late. Does the on-time couple get to eat while the late one gets sent packing? In the end, she admitted that the restaurant didn’t actually enforce the rule, but was just a measure to guarantee that everyone “takes off” at the same time.

 

The second warning took the form of a visit from a old, dear client friend the afternoon of our reservation. When we told him we were about to have dinner at Shuko, he told us that the very man whom we had just been discussing, Noam Gottesman, in the context of an astute art collector who other Wall Streeters follow, owned Shuko along with the dreaded (in our view0 Eleven Madison Park. In other words, we were going to another hedge fund owner's restaurant.

 

The last aspect that gave me pause was the more-expensive omikase menu that we all ended up choosing that is referred to as “Kaiseki”. As I fully expected, as someone who has had kaiseki meals in Japan would immediately recognize, Shuko’s so-called kaiseki is fraudulent. There are no beautiful serving pieces; the true type and rigorous order of presentation is non-existent; the composition and arrangement of food on the plate bears no resemblance to the pains-taking way true kaiseki chefs execute this; and most crucial, the use of fresh ingredients of the season had very little presence.

 

Like old friends that turn against you, the several dishes that came over with the two chefs, such as toro with caviar and Dungeness crab with cucumber came across as mundane and flat. Much of the reason could be that the restaurant has no life or “joie de vivre”. It’s just a big counter with a couple of tables and everybody eating more or less the same food at more or less the same time. The 17-piece sushi part of the meal consisted of the smallest pieces I have ever had. While I don’t appreciate the oversize pieces that you have to eat in two bites, these little ones at Shuko are too small to be satisfying. Making matters worse, we weren’t at Nick Kim’s end of the counter, having instead to watch some taciturn young preparer make the sushi as if in a trance.

 

Having first made the reservation on Open Table, I got the chance to write something on their website. I admire them for letting you write just about anything. The only text they objected to the first time around was my writing that the four of us were wondering if the rank uni would make us sick. (Speculating on such matters violates a not-unreasonable Open Table rule). They also had no objections that I requested of Noam Gottesman to donate the $1400 or so that we dropped to UNICEF.

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