This versatile kitchen's flavors sing

March 30, 2008|By Craig LaBan, Inquirer Restaurant Critic

Before the music, there was beef, fire and spice.

Of course, "music" is a generous description for the impassioned howling that resonated from the hive of private karaoke rooms lining the ground floor of this obscure industrial building.

But with enough soju rice liquor to wet the vocal cords, and a belly full of some of city's best charcoal-grilled Korean meats, a microphone suddenly looks so much more inviting.

Me do U-2? Pass the kimchi and spicy rice cakes. It's a Friday night out in the chile-fired heart of North Philly's Koreatown, and I'm feeling fine. (Cue the lyrics!)

You won't find a listing for Everyday Good House in the phone book. And unless you read signs written in Korean characters, it's likely you'd drive right by this innocuous hulk of a building on the southeast corner of Front Street and Olney Avenue.

It's a good thing my friends, Ah-Young and Wilson, knew exactly where they were going on my first lunchtime foray here. Because I was already pleasantly surprised from the moment we stepped up through the front door of Everyday Good House.

The barbed wire-fringed exterior of this multilevel structure is foreboding. But inside awaited a warm, dark-wood dining room, with maroon-and-gold banners streaming along the ceiling, and starry lights strung from a picture window looking out across the Tacony Creek.

It was the smell of sizzling, garlic-rubbed meat, though, that brought me to my seat. Unlike many Korean barbecue restaurants that heavily marinate their beef, Good House has a reputation for a lighter hand, Ah-Young tells me. And true to form, the restaurant's special marinated beef ribs (kalbisal jumulruk) arrive on a platter with only a last-minute shine of sesame oil, soy and garlic. The ribbon-thin slices of raw beef are so gorgeous, their ruby hue laced with intricate white marbling, I want to taste this meat.

All we need is the glowing heat of the charcoal brazier our waitress delivers and ignites at the center of our table, and I'm in carnivore heaven, carefully searing both sides atop a pierced grill plate that looks like a shiny hubcap.

We wrap each hot piece inside a crunchy package of red leaf lettuce smeared with spicy fermented soybean paste (ssamjang), a jalapeƱo chip, and a tangy pouf of shredded scallion salad, and devour this feast morsel by morsel. Hot and cold. Spicy and savory. The fresh crunch of greens against the tender chew of fat-glistened meat. Each bite is a riot of textures and sparking flavors.

1 | 2 | 3 | Next »
|
|
|
|
|