Chicago’s Korean Fried Chicken War Heats Up
If you haven’t noticed by now, after more than a year’s worth of blog posts and hundreds of stories on ABC 7, I’ve got a thing for Korean food. Not just the thinly-sliced, char-grilled kalbi and smoke palaces on Western Ave. in Chicago and in Downtown L.A.; not just in the sea of vibrant, crunchy panchan fields of cabbage, zucchini and daikon radish on Lawrence Ave. and in NYC’s K-Town on 32nd Street, but in the mom-and-pop honesty of a simple bowl of ginseng and cornish game hen soup, or more precisely, like the fantastically delicious home-cooking I experienced last night on a darkened street beneath the Granville Red Line stop, down the block from an Ann Sather and next door to a dumpy looking hot dog joint that also sells Indian food.
dak Korean Chicken Wings is a family affair, and you’ll miss it if you blink, since there is no sign of any consequence, save for the “1104” that’s posted onto the front glass. That’s probably due to the fact the owner’s wife just gave birth to a baby, and the restaurant hasn’t even been open a week. But you can tell right away there’s something special here. When I asked why the kimchi fried rice entree was out (already?!) he told me that they were still perfecting it, and hadn’t quite tweaked it to the point where they were comfortable serving it yet.
They did have plenty of chicken wings though (5 wings for $9, 10 wings for $16). These are not the Frenched, bone-as-handle, sweetly soy and garlic-laced dwarfs you’ll find at Great Sea on Lawrence Ave. or Take Me Out in Pilsen. They’re more akin to the gigantic, double-fried, crispy/juicy and succulent porn stars I’ve been known to wolf down by the basketfull at Crisp. That’s right, I said Crisp, and I’m not prone to hyperbole. You can either go spicy bbq or dak soy garlic – I’d highly recommend the latter: a soy-garlic-and-sesame bath that somehow maintains the crispness and integrity of the skin but doesn’t overwhelm with sugar. I could have eaten five more if I hadn’t decided to try everything else.
There are a half dozen entrees on the menu. Most are some form of marinated and quickly grilled chicken, pork or beef; some served over toothsome rice cakes, called dukbokki, which look like elegant carrots, but chew like barely al dente bucatini. Since they’re bathed in Korea’s beloved gojujang, a fiery, funky chili paste that I could shmear on just about anything, this dish packed a whollup.
The only other section of the menu focuses on rice bowls, which are named for the layman, but are essentially bibimbop redux. Unfortunately, there’s a huge disconnect here. Because as amazing as the pork version I ordered was – replete with juicy bits of grilled pig, and the most vibrant spinach, shredded daikon, thinly sliced carrot, bean sprouts, cooked mushrooms and crunchy cucumbers, all crowned with a fried egg – the whole idea of a rice bowl, that is, there’s a bowl involved, is lost on the fact that even if you order it to dine in, you’re still getting it in a square, styrofoam clamshell, which is such a bummer. I sprayed mine with a few squirts of gojujang, just to amp up the flavors a bit, but even after I combined everything together – as good and tasty as it all was – it would have been 9 times better had it been served in a hot bowl that might have imparted the smallest amount of extra crunch to that bottom layer of rice; what the Spanish would call a good soccarat in the paella world.
Dumplings were solid, nicely crisped on the outside, good dipping sauce next door; the potato salad and cubes of daikon radish were similarly high-quality. For some reason, as much as I adore kimchi in any form, theirs was awfully funky last night, as if one of the cooks attended David Burke’s 45-day beef aging school and applied it to cabbage. But not to worry. I’m going back to dak again for those wings and that dukbokki, and if they invest in a decent bowl or two, I’m game for another round of “rice bowl” too.
Dak Korean Chicken Wings
1104 W. Granville
(773) 754-0255
