Trust is the currency between writer and reader. Whether you agree with my restaurant assessments or not, I need to feel confident that if you decide to visit the restaurant, you will see what I describe.
Lately, I feel less assured that this is the case. In the age of Yelp, restaurateurs are pulled every which way by a multitude of voices online and in-house. In this highly competitive marketplace, the new breed of restaurateur appears to try to placate all and comes across as wishy-washy in the process.
It makes me long for the old-school restaurateurs, egos as lofty as Everest, who stood their ground no matter what critics said. As recently as five years ago, I saw restaurants as being ready from Day One, whether their owners believed so or not. These days, restaurants don’t seem quite ready months after opening day. Menus are subject to constant change, and favorite dishes fall victim to unnecessary tweaking or vanish completely.
That said, the Chinatown gastropub Smith and Kings is subject to some inconsistencies in prep, but unlike many not-ready-for-review new entries to the scene, at least you can expect to see a comfy and familiar menu daily. There is a level of commitment to a style and vision here that I appreciate.
The vibe is cool and casual in keeping with downtown’s hipster milieu. There’s nothing special about the dark interior save for the chalkboard artistry above the bar, which gives it the air of 18th-century-French-bistro-meets-21st-century-watering-hole.
You can sit at the bar or small round bar tables. If you’re with a group of friends who intend to imbibe both food and drink, ranging from wine to retro Sazeracs and mint Collinses, be aware that between serving platters and small share plates, you’ll max out the surface space by ordering four dishes.
The menu, clear and simple, comprises likable pub grub, everything a person of sound health and voracious appetite could desire: burgers, poutine, mac ’n’ cheese, steak frites, and fish and chips. The menu is not particularly large, but given the richness of the food, there is no way you could appreciably explore the breadth of the menu in just one visit.
And if your diet currently consists of green juice and salad, you’d need to get your stomach in condition before tackling the weighty dishes. Upon returning from my travels and the clean diets of Northern California and Seoul, I had two weeks to work my way back up to the likes of the Hawaii-caliber “King” burger ($14) crowned with barbecue pulled pork, applewood bacon and cheddar; or lobster poutine ($12), the french fries topped with a mix of lobster, creamy bechamel sauce and Indiana goat cheese.
On the downside, that “lobster” had all the flavor and consistency of surimi, but the texture with the flavors of bechamel and goat cheese won my friends over and the poutine disappeared in no time. Only one out of four complained that he’d rather not pay for an ingredient he couldn’t taste.
The same complaint applied to lobster deviled eggs, priced at $4 for one egg split in half. We couldn’t taste the lobster on top, so the diner might be better off with eggs topped with something more flavorful and less expensive, like sun-dried tomatoes or pesto. It just wouldn’t have the same cachet or buzz-worthy status as lobster.
AFTER one visit I was sold on the foie gras burger ($14), so that when someone asked me where to get a good burger in town, Smith & Kings was my automatic reply. This particular burger was beautifully textured and cooked to a perfect medium per request, then decadently topped with a thick layer of foie gras pate, black truffle mayonnaise and white truffle oil.
There are others who vouch for the King burger, but I was not enamored trying it on a second visit when the meat had an off flavor, not enhanced by the flavorless pulled pork on top. Beef in the steak frites that day also tasted as if it had shared a pan with fish. Oh well, the plain frites that accompanied the steak and burger were better on my second visit than the first, when they were coated with an unnecessary sprinkling of sugar and spices.
Another superfluous addition to a dish inherently pure was a brown sauce over flatbread topped with Swiss cheese and king mushrooms ($10). To the chef, I say have more confidence in the cheese and ditch the sauce, which does nothing but transform something perfect into a gooey, visually unappealing mess.
A bowl of Washington state clams ($12) showcased the kitchen at its best, displaying restraint with a simple saute of white wine, garlic, parsley and a splash of lemon.
On the side of health are an arugula salad ($9), chopped salad with salumi ($9) and greens topped with a dice of Fuji apple, goat cheese and candied walnuts ($10). But demand for salad here is unlikely, so we struck out on arugula on two visits. Sadly, spinach is a poor substitute for arugula on a country ham and shaved Parmesan flatbread ($11).
Mac ’n’ cheese ($12) is usually a winner with me, but the one here boasts five cheeses, and of those, the one that most asserts itself is gorgonzola, an acquired taste for most of the population and therefore a questionable choice. My friends are all foodies accustomed to eating everything, but even they left this mac ’n’ cheese sitting because of the overpowering gorgonzola. All we ate was the crispy pork belly you can have added on top of the dish for an extra $3.
Half the time, dishes here turn out great, so I know the cooks are capable of putting out good food. Hopefully there is someone here who can recognize what works and can be a taskmaster in pushing for the consistency diners crave.
Nadine Kam’s restaurant reviews are conducted anonymously and paid for by the Star-Advertiser. Reach her at nkam@staradvertiser.com