A new cozy cafe at Andriyivsky boasts great carpaccio, get spiced-up at new Korean eatery
It was already evident that Vernisazh was something special because I’d tried to go there three times before I finally found a table. Granted, it’s located on Andriyivsky Uzviz, the so-called “most charming street in Kyiv.” And, also granted, I kept trying to get in on beautiful weekend afternoons, but there was something about the liveliness of the crowd that made me certain, despite the location, that this was no ordinary mediocre-food vacationer trap.
Put simply, we need more places like this in Kyiv. It’s what my mom back in New York would call “cute” (I can’t stand the term myself, but, well, it fits). The tables and chairs are low to the ground and crowd each other cozily. The walls are completely covered in photographs and works of art in an assortment that could be confusing due to its lack of theme, but because the pieces are well chosen there isn’t a single one that cries out for too much attention. So if you’re looking for a place to eat after a first or second date strolling around the Uzviz, well, you couldn’t really do any better for lunch. And I say lunch because, as far as the food was concerned, it seemed that the lighter fare and appetizers were much more accomplished than the heavier plates (to be fair, though, this isn’t uncommon to find in restaurants the world over).
The first dish to arrive was a rather proficient Caesar salad (Hr 39), with a dressing reasonably close to what you’d expect (though the ghost of mayonnaise was never whispering too far away). The lettuce, however, was actual Romaine and the pieces of chicken breast were seasoned perfectly (a simply touch of oil, pepper and salt) and were some of the most tender bits of bird I’ve had in a while. What’s more, there was also a bounty of that incredibly elusive ingredient: delicious, firm and juicy tomatoes. It was companioned by a free basket of bread and real butter, and the bread presented itself like a proud side dish and not an afterthought. I often get less-than-satisfactory slices here in Kyiv, but lately I’ve been having better luck. Perhaps more and more restaurants are finally realizing that the bread is often a cheap way to get the customers more excited for what’s to come – and this I applaud.
I’d heard good things about the carpaccio (Hr 55) and, well, all prior flattery was more than warranted. Honestly, this was one of the best renditions I’ve had anywhere – and I’ve eaten them in restaurants in areas as adept at making it as Little Italy and Rome itself. I chose the version with Parmesan (Hr 66), and, while not exactly cheap, the portion was surprisingly large for such a delicate and delicious dish. A wide circle of white china was completely covered by overlapping livid pink slices of tender – almost butter-like – beef. Atop this were generous shavings of good Parmesan, and, with a nod toward Vernisazh’s surprising attention to culinary detail, the waitress then proceeded to grind fresh cracked pepper over the whole lot. Add to that robust olive oil and lemon juice dappled over flecks of fresh chives and parsley and, well, if I sound enthusiastic it’s because I am (yes, sad, I know: these things get me excited. That’s why I’m the Guide guy).
But this wasn’t just a love-in. The pave de boeuf Maitre d’hotel (Hr 38) was disappointing, especially because of its potential. An incredibly juicy piece of steak covered in a buttery herbed cheese should’ve had much more flavor than it did. But I found myself covering the bites in salt, just to get a palate reaction. The same goes for the spaghetti Bolognese, though not as mortally flawed. What little there was of the sauce was flavored reasonably well, and the pasta was still quite al dente, but the presentation was more reminiscent of a stolovaya than a “cute” bistro, and, well, the carpaccio had me so enthused about Italian dishes that it was just a bit anticlimactic.
A word about the service: I can vouch only for one waitress, but not only was she helpful (I’d had a very long evening the night before so let’s just say my Russian was not exactly svobodna), she was charming as well. Trying to eke out the English for “Come again” my final memory of the meal was of a lovely young woman saying, “Please return. Here I will wait for you.” My heart quite affected, I’ve sworn to keep this vow.
Vernisazh
30 Andryivsky Uzviz, 425-2403
Open 11 a.m. to 11 p.m.
English menu: No.
English-speaking staff: No.
Average price of main dish: Hr 40
Seoul soul
Usually, I like to be a bit more critical in my food reviews, but this week was just a lucky one for me and restaurants. And you’ll understand why if you head over to Hankookwan, located near the Voksalna metro on a pleasant, if not slightly deserted, part of town. Okay, I’ll be frank here. I’m usually relatively self-effacing and humble, but I know Chinese and Southeast Asian food. I just do. It’s really that simple. I’m also addicted to it – from the most delicately prepared crispy pork with basil to the most rancid takeout fix of chicken with broccoli: all of them have a home in my gullet. That being said, try to judge the following statement equitably: Hankookwan is as good as any Korean restaurant you’ll find outside of Korea (I’ve never been there – but I’m just assuming). In my life I have eaten dozens of Korean meals in as many restaurants back in New York (which has a very substantial population) and I say without hesitation that this place is as good as any of them. Don’t be fooled by the sign that reads “Korean-Japanese” food: the menu is entirely Korean save for a selection of sushi in the back (a nod to the raw-fish obsession in Kyiv that forces every Asian restaurant to have a selection).
Okay, of course, some dishes are better than others, but the ones that work are like a symphony – disparate notes that all somehow agree to mesh perfectly. Take, for instance, the bulgoki (Hr 70). For those uninitiated into the world of Korean cooking (and Vietnamese and Japanese to a certain extent as well), the product is rarely more important than the process. By that I mean that often the waiters in these restaurants don’t so much bring finished dishes to your table but, rather, they often actually prepare them right there (and let you help in the process). When the dish arrives, you find a plate of lettuce and ssamjang (a brown thick paste of fermented soy beans and chilies. Think miso with a kick) to accompany generous slices of raw garlic while our cheerful waitress sauteed slices of beef over a hot pot in a sweet soy-based sauce. You then grab a piece of lettuce, wipe on a dab of paste, a slice of garlic and then load the top with a few strips of beef. The preparation: enjoyable. The effect on the tongue: incredible.
And whatever you do, don’t overlook the selection of pajeans (we chose the one with beef for Hr 50), the Korean answer to an omelet. Not only is this a great option for any guests that can’t handle spicy food, but it’s perhaps the best one I’ve ever had: a radiant sun-bright disc of egg and flat broad strips of beef. Dip it in the blend of rice vinegar, soy sauce and scallions and I promise you’ll be happy.
Literally translated as “stone bowl mixed meal,” the dolsot bibimbop (hr 55) is not a band from the Doo Wop era but a heavy black stone bowl containing a casserole of sorts, filled with julienned vegetables, chili paste and a raw egg placed on top that lightly cooks from the heat of the sides of the dish. While not as levitational as the bulgogi or the pajean, it makes an apt side. Or add a bit of it to a bowl of Yukgyejang (Hr 50), a hot soup famous in Korea for curing what ails you. The glass noodles were lovely crystalline strands of the perfect consistency while the broth didn’t dwell on its heat alone but was a nice blend of disparate seasonings, but I would’ve liked the beef pieces to have been a more recognizable cut. If I’m going to eat innards, I want to be the first to know.
Our meal was rounded out with a wonderful Ojingo Dupbab (Hr 45), a stir-fry of characteristically Asian vegetables (carrots, onion, some peppers) and a generous amount of delicate fresh squid floating in a sea of thick red sauce that was not quite as hot as it looks (but certainly isn’t bland either). And if at any point you get bored, just rest your eyes on the flat-screen television playing wild Asian game shows involving contests too impure to print in a family paper such as ours (let’s just say we say diapers, beer and a slide covered in mud). The fact that the TV has English subtitles does little to explain what it is you’re watching. But what does it matter? Watching is as much a cultural experience as your meal.
HANKOOKWAN
(104/24 Zhylyanska, 284-3622)
Open daily from 10 a.m. to 11 p.m.
English Menu: Yes
English-speaking staff: NoAverage price of main dish: Hr 70
