Kono

I ate at Kono, a fine dining yakitori restaurant with just as many accolades as its next door neighbor Yamada, which I wrote about recently. Fortunately for the staff at Kono, I restrained myself from ordering the sake pairing, so my night was uneventful and ended without a police escort.

First, the boring: Kono is stellar. Some of the skewers are possibly the most thoughtful treatments of chicken in New York. Particular highlights of my meal were the heart, cooked to avoid the typical chewy and rubbery texture I associate with heart and reveal a more delicate bounciness, and the oyster, which reached heights of tenderness and juiciness I did not know chicken could reach.

When I eat at a steakhouse, I have an arsenal of words to describe the quality of beef: USDA Prime, A5, Wagyu, Angus, marbling. It's a shame the only phrase I can think of for chicken is "heritage breed", because I've had heritage breed chicken before, and there is something else going on at Kono.

Skewers are about half the meal at Kono. The other half consists of small plates, which leads me to what I'm really here to talk about: the slider, meant to fill the same role as tsukune in other yakitori.

Does it count as a skewer if the bread is skewered?

This was a course of comedy. I would call it unintentional, but I can't rule out that Chef Atsune Kono serves this so he can get some laughs in the middle of a long service. The raw yolk stands, unpopped, on a narrow tower of non-egg-yolks all served on a rimless plate. This is a precarious setup, and the emergent dynamic behavior of the yolk-plate-server-diner system is worthy of study. Some field notes from my own experience:

• The staff are experienced with this dish. They warned each and every diner to eat the slider over the plate to contain yolk spillage.
• The staff are not that experienced. My own slider's yolk popped en route to me, so as it was served, the yolk was already pooling with the bottom bun.
• The staff are REALLY not that experienced. Just as the server set the plate in front of the man three seats to my right, the yolk slid off the slider. With no rim in sight, the rogue yolk saw freedom, slipped right off the plate, and came to a rest precariously close to the edge of the table. It was miraculously still intact.
• The staff are REALLY experienced. There was a clear escape protocol in effect. The server produced a serviette to yoke the yolk. The yolk popped, more serviettes were produced, and the escape attempt was shut down. The now yolkless slider was whisked away, and a new yolked slider arrived.

A fascinating night of observation. Next time I dine at Kono, maybe the staff could strap on some roller skates before the slider course. Deploy some Slip 'n Slides, and this could be a real multisensory dining experience. Be the yolk. Slide directly to freedom, or slide directly down someone's gullet.

Chef, if you are looking for a true visionary to revamp your restaurant, I am your guy. Drop me a line.