Kuma Inn

Photo courtesy of NY Mag, taken by Gavin Thomas. Mona's still camera-less :(

I forget what commercial I was watching. The hand model plunged a fork into a big bowl of steamed white rice and all I could think about was Kuma Inn. Kuma Inn. Kuma Inn.

TheDude picked Kuma Inn for our last dinner club with LoveLight. We were hoping to squeeze in a brunch of his choice for a last hurrah, but that never happened and who knows when I'll see him again. Oh wait. TheDude, FTDC's hopeless romantic, just proposed to his girlfriend of less than a year and he mentioned an engagement party. Congratulations, TheDude! I can't wait to hear the details in a couple of weeks, and if I know LoveLight, he will be the party's MC.

In a sort of passing of the torch, our new dinner club member joined us to make it a fun fivesome. I have yet to come up with a name for said newbie, after only having met him once, so sit tight, FTDC rookie, I'll name you yet.

When the e-mail came from TheDude with a link to Kuma Inn, I was a little hesitant. New York Magazine described it as "Asian tapas." Hmm. I like tapas, but with our hungry bunch I wasn't sure I was going to be satisfied. Tapas are the perfect pre-going out meal. I never feel like I really have a sufficiency from tapas, but maybe I'm just not going to the right places. I also have a problem taking small bites. If I like what I'm eating, I want a lot of it. I can't handle being teased by one spoon or forkful.

Fashionista and I met at NYAC and headed downtown. Kuma is cash only and BYOB so we both had our stash of wine and greenbacks. We turned onto Ludlow, a street we've both frequented, and we were perplexed by where it could be. After some serious studying of storefronts, I noticed the miss-able signage on the door sill. It felt like we were headed into a friend's walk-up apartment.

"What is TheDude getting us into?" asked Fashionista.

"This feels sketchy..." I said keeping my arms and purse away from the dingy staircase walls.

Leave it to TheDude to keep us guessing.

We opened the glass door and found ourselves in a tiny restaurant. The kitchen was to our left and a wine-filled fridge sat in front of us. The host took our names and our wine (could we trust him?) and we took a seat on the bench to wait. I had flashbacks of my last doctor's visit.

Rookie must have heard us say TheDude because he got up right away and asked if we were there for dinner club.

"Aha! Welcome!"

We exchanged some introductions and the New York five: who, what, where, when and why. YES! Turns out another UWS-er has joined our dinner club. Maybe I'll eat local a couple of times a year.

LoveLight came in and we barely recognized him. Fashionista and I noted we'd never seen him in casual attire and we dug it, especially the Chucks. TheDude strolled in shortly behind him.

I peaked at the kitchen as the host led us to our table. It was very cramped and I wondered how they produced such high quality food in a kitchen just a few square feet larger than my bathroom. If you read the "About Us" section on the Kuma Inn Web site, the chef King Phojanakong has received countless "best of" awards. Perhaps most impressive is his cooking history. He's cooked under Daniel Boulud, David Bouley and he worked at Jean-Georges, to name a few of the highlights. I had no idea we were eating in the presence of such greatness.

Our waitress came to the table and she wasn't what I was expecting. In a place so heavy on the Asian accents it was jarring to have a waitress who looked like a frumpier version of Rachael Ray. Kuma reminded me of a hole-in-the-wall spot in Tokyo I frequented with my family when they lived there and it was all Japanese men all the time. She was pleasant enough though and rattled off about two dozen specials, of which I remembered two.

"Damn, girl. That was impressive. How do you remember all that?" I always got tripped up memorizing specials. If I was forced to do it without notes and an item escaped me, I improvised.

"And tonight our special is rack of lamb. It's crusted in a macadamia nut with Japanese....err...."

It's supposed to be eggplant, but I say, "...tomatoes! Arugula and roasted peppers in a coriander sauce." Meanwhile, praying nobody asks me or anyone else within earshot what Japanese tomatoes are.

It took us a while before we each decided to order two things. Our list was a hodgepodge of the following:

steamed edamame with Thai basil-lime oil
grilled baby octopus with pickled bamboo shoots
seared ahi tuna in a Thai chili – miso vinaigrette
drunken spicy shrimp finished with sake, kalamansi and Thai chilies
deep–fried pork belly lechon kawali with atchara
pan roasted ocean scallops with bacon, kalamansi and sake
sautéed Chinese sausage with Thai chili-lime sauce
coconut rice
Asian-style pulled pork sliders

In my best Veruca Salt impression, I told the waitress I wanted some edamame NOOOOW. My stomach was eating itself and I couldn't wait until the rest of the orders were ready. FTDC laughed in unison and embarrassment at my adamant request.

"I'm sorry, I'm just hungry," I explained.

Kuma Inn has ruined me for all future edamame.

"Oh my GAWD-uh. This is seriously the best edamame I've ever had."

The table looked at me in disbelief. I knew what they were thinking. You're eating seeds that you suck out of a pod, what is the big friggin' deal? Until...

"You're right. Holy s***."

"Oh my god, she's right."

"Daaang, what is on these?!"

I'm known for dumping a gallon of soy sauce and sea salt on bowls of edamame because I want to suck something off the pod. Well, here I was tasting the basil-lime-juice-drenched edamame and it was heaven. I could have eaten four more helpings and called it a night.

The other highlights were the spicy Chinese sausage, the pulled pork sandwiches and the coconut rice.

There are few things I have food-gasms over and I had one over Kuma's coconut rice. I had one bite of the gooey, sticky, raw, dough-like wad wrapped in leaves and my eyes rolled to the back of my head. I feel like the rice was spiked with something and I haven't stopped thinking about it since. I don't even like rice. I never order it anywhere. But with each bite I became more and more ravenous for the coconut-flavored goodness. I didn't even ask the table before I requested another helping. How can I make this at home and does Kuma Inn ship to the Upper West Side?

As for the extra large sliders, one order wasn't enough. I can't tell you what kind of bun the barbecue was on but it was a white puffy, cloud-like substance. When you bit into it, it was like you were biting into barbecue and two soft pillows of dough. The consistency was almost like cotton candy and the bun dissolved in your mouth.

The great was marred by a couple of disappointments. The poor baby octopus died in vain because he did not taste so good. Think wirey, tough calamari. I forced it down but it was not pleasant. And I usually LOVE me some grilled octopus.

I couldn't figure out the pork belly either. I was turned onto it by TheDude, who's now, for the second time, turned vegetarian on me, but Kuma's pork belly didn't do it for me. There was a thin layer of juicy meat, but I almost broke my jaw and molars biting into the crispy outer layer. For all I know, I mis-swallowed a bone. If you hurt yourself eating something it can't be good.

There was little to no decor, which to me, usually means the place takes its food very seriously. It was a few steps above a hole-in-the-wall and that's what I liked about it. No frills, just eat. The far walls held some abstract art but that was about it.

I counted about six to eight tables and they were all taken by the time we were halfway through dinner. You don't want to show up to Kuma Inn unannounced. BYOB means people are taking their time to eat and unless you want to be a benchwarmer, call to make reservations. I still haven't been to Momofuko Ko, but I imagine Kuma to be the poor man's, more attainable version.

This upcoming month marks the one-year anniversary of FTDC. What a difference a year of dinner club makes. I need to write a novel about our once-a-month rendez-vous, our stories and the loves and duds of our lives who come and go faster than highly-anticipated vacations.

When I announced my next month's picks, The Dude wrote back:

April 7 makes for an FTDC rule (when Tuesday falls on the seventh day of the month). I just can't remember what it is!

The only rule we have now is if the first Tuesday of the month falls on the first we go out afterwards. Does it get any better than that?

Another one comes to mind... just because you go off and get engaged in Costa Rica and/or married doesn't mean your chair is allowed to go empty at dinner club.

113 Ludlow St., 2nd floor, near Delancey St.
212-353-8866