Restaurant Review - Fusion collusion
Silk’s urbane design outshines its uneven, Asian-inspired fare
“Can you tell me the flavors of these sauces?”
A server at Silk has set down at our table two Asian-infused tapas: Shanghai spring rolls cut into bite-sized pieces and set upright on the plate, and a crabmeat croquette topped with a dollop of guacamole. Underneath both is a swirling melange of dribbles and condiments in a prismatic hue of colors, from murky brown to curry yellow to iridescent green.
They look pretty, these precisely painted smears. But, um, what exactly are they made of and what point do they serve?
“I know some of them,” stammers the server, who then slinks away without identifying any of them. Ah, well. We pick up our forks and start swiping. A jolt of mustard, a slick of soy, a blip of tomato, an odd note of celery — in seconds they’ve all run together into a blurry, vaguely satisfying combination of sweet and fried. Not disappointing, not remarkable, but strikingly familiar nonetheless.
Welcome to another round of fusion confusion and fun here in Atlanta.
Silk, the third intown restaurant by ambitious restaurateurs Anna and Raymond Hsu, follows in the lineage of other East-West collusions around the city that include Bluepointe and Roy’s in Buckhead, and Eurasia Bistro in Decatur. Fusion’s flame burned brightest in the ’90s, but its rules-out-the-window confluence of cultures has certainly left its mark on the culinary consciousness of many American chefs. It’s to be expected that a new restaurant will come along every couple of years and attempt to breathe new life into the genre.
Will it work in Midtown? That’s yet to be seen. The 2-month-old restaurant is located in the glassy, glossy Metropolis building, but the neighbors seem to be taking their time discovering it.
The owners also operate two downtown eateries, Hsu’s Gourmet Chinese and Pacific Rim Bistro. They cater primarily to conventioneers, and the Hsus have made it known that Silk is their bid for local business. Perhaps it would have been wiser, then, to create a restaurant that feels more personal. The large, corporate-feeling space has more in common with Little Azio and Noodle, its smaller-scale neighbors across the street, both of which practically screech, “Franchise me!”
Not that Silk isn’t a sleek looker. Curving wood melds with loft-chic metal in the voluminous room. The center wall divides a swank lounge/bar area from the main dining room and discrete sushi bar. Swathes of cloth made from the restaurant’s namesake ripple down windows. Plasma screens flash frenzied, multicolored images.
It’s an emblematic setting for the food. The Hsus brought in James Beard-award winning chef Jim Lock as a menu consultant. Lock’s Asian stylings made Seattle’s Wild Ginger a decade-long hotspot during his 12-year tenure there. Kochi Chiba is Silk’s executive chef and has been decorated in his own right for his expertise in kaiseki, the formalized meals based on Japanese tea ceremonies.
For all that talent, though, much of the food has an anonymous sheen to it, as if conceived by a focus group that brainstormed every possible way Asian flavors and textures could be applied to current trends. You’ve got sushi, tapas, entrees for traditionalists and protein-heavy options for the low-carbers. I just wish I could taste an individual chef’s ideas or passion when I eat here.
Tapas, the offshoot of Chiba’s expertise in kaiseki, prove most successful. A plate of jumbo shrimp sauced with chili, lemongrass and coconut milk balances a spicy, velvety duality. Crab and rice noodles are rolled inside rice paper and pan-seared, creating an addictive, crispy-chewy contrast. Three scallops are sauteed a lovely shade of chestnut, dressed with a mild sea urchin butter and served over an unexpectedly elegant risotto made from brown rice.
This is the kitchen (and fusion cuisine, really) at its best — a deft push-pull of styles that comes off harmonious rather than overwrought.
Alas, it’s a rare occurrence. Alongside the above-mentioned winners, you’re bound to order some mediocre dishes. Ahi poke Hawaiian salad comes in the requisite martini glass. For $9, there’s far too little tuna and avocado and way too much seaweed with the texture of those thin rubber bracelets Madonna wore in the ’80s.
In an attempt to bring a new dimension to ubiquitous calamari, the squid here is sauteed and then thrown together with asparagus and mushrooms in a muddy soy-ginger sauce. It’s a failed experiment. Bring back the breaded, deep-fried stuff.
The sushi? Fine quality fish; middle-of-the-road execution featuring standbys like rainbow and cream cheese rolls. Good for a noncommittal weekday night out with pals, nothing more.
One visit we splurge on the lobster tasting menu, which you can have prepared either by the sushi bar or the kitchen. We choose the sushi bar, and are presented with bowls of rich lobster bisque, a good start even if bisque isn’t a typical mainstay of a sushi bar. Next comes a large platter with lobster salad in a lively, citrusy yuzu ponzu; an awkward tempura lobster claw still in its shell; and a heaping portion of lobster sushi, including nigiri and a roll that basically tastes like a California roll with a bit of lobster added. The lobster is gently cooked (they offered to parade out our big red friend before he was cooked; we declined) but the overall presentation comes off lackluster. It’s never a good sign when you get bored eating lobster.
And so it goes with most entrees. Fatty duck breast served with gluey sweet potatoes. Rack of lamb supposedly crusted with mustard seeds and fresh mint that tastes mostly of breadcrumbs. (Price tag on that little misfire? Twenty-eight smackers. Ouch.). High-quality steaks with silly spice rub flavors like panang curry and spicy apricot with Szechwan chili. There’s a blue cheese/wasabi root variation for an extra two bucks, and it’s by far the best option.
I take solace in the disappointments of each of my three meals here with cheesecake for dessert. A bit of goat cheese is mixed with the cream cheese base, and there’s cinnamon in the crust. The pears alongside have been soused with plum wine. It’s the best option of the lot. Flat-out avoid the green tea mousse cake with the gelatinous texture.
Most of the servers seem green themselves, though I sense that the staff is still being hired and learning the ropes. It explains why our one server didn’t know the ingredients of the tapas he was serving.
Less easily explained is a disturbing valet situation that occurred during my last visit. Well ... first, let me say that the parking situation at Silk irks me in general. Valet costs three bucks if you use the service in front of the restaurant, but will be validated for free if you park yourself in the Metropolis. The catch? All the reserve parking spots are reserved for the valet, so it’s rare at night to find an empty spot. Grrr.
To top things off, when the valet runs to get my friend’s car at the end of my last visit, we notice that he has forgotten to lock the box that holds all the keys to the cars in his care. And he leaves for a good five minutes. Not the best way to inspire return customers. But then, I was already planning to give this newcomer time to focus its menu before I came back anyway.