It's a birthday lunch for two coworkers. A former coworker highly recommended Kau Kau, having been taking her family here for decades. Nine of us made the trek over to the International District expecting some good Chinese food.
On the bright side you can't beat the price. The surly waitress tossed a pile of menus on the center of the table, and each of us decided to get the $6.80 lunch special: soup (with two undocumented asterisks), BBQ pork, vegetable, and pork fried rice. Supposedly, they have the best BBQ. At least, that's what the awning out front says.
"Can I get miso soup with this?" asked one of us.
No.
"What kind of soup is it?" asked another.
Seaweed and tofu.
I ordered it with "soy sauce chicken." As the waitress took each of our orders, she took away plates from in front of each of us, leaving a fork, chopsticks, and napkin.
The soup came quickly. I gulped down a spoonful. "It smells worse than it tastes," I remarked. The seaweed was fortunately flavorless, although one of my coworkers, arriving late, joked that he spotted someone outside dredging it out of a puddle. I slurped most of mine down, including the one lonely cube of tofu.
Plates came out two at a time. We had a little confusion about who ordered what; the waitress was of little help. I dug into my rice first. Dark, earthy, I figure there must be some cremini mushrooms used in there.
For $7, maybe not.
I then dug into the sliced chunks of BBQ pork. It was cold, which I expected, but was it was also thick and tough, which I didn't. Normally cold BBQ pork is sliced thin and comes with mustard sides.
For $7, no.
Three co-workers debated catching the buzzing fly with chopsticks, Karate Kid style. One told a story of how his proudest day in seventh grade was when he swatted a bee out of the sky with a pencil, saving his entire class from certain doom. Cool story, bro.
The chicken reminded me of Thanksgiving turkey at my house, in that when I'm obligated to slice it, I end up inadvertently chopping it to bits, making the poor bird look like it jumped on a grenade requiring chunks of bird flesh to be retrieved from wherever they end up. That analogy would explain the small chunks of chicken bone I discovered while chewing.
For $7, yeah, that's what I get.
I returned to the rice. A few bites in, I pulled a hair or fuzz or something out of my mouth. It was gossamer enough that I couldn't see it, so I assume it came off of a sweater or shirt or other clothing. Could have been mine, I suppose.
Even for $7, that's not good.
A few minutes later, more chicken bone fragments. Another hair. I'm done.
For $7, it's way overpriced.
A few co-workers left shortly after lunch while four of us hung out afterward to deal with the bill. The waitress delivers it and runs. She reappears a few minutes later, clearing tables and paying us no mind. After several attempts, we wave her down. She rolls her eyes, stops to briefly wipe down another table, and grabs our credit card, appearing seconds later, having left the card up at the register for someone else to handle.
"So what did you think?" asks a co-worker. I mention the chicken bone and the hair. She gags.
The credit card comes back, we sign and retreat. On my way out, BeeSwatter pulls me aside. "Take a look at this."
1) In some cultures, crickets are eaten regularly, I think.
2) I hope that's a cricket hidden under his carrot.
On the walk back to the office, we agree: not very good. One co-worker stops by Bartells for a fifth of tequila to sterilize her mouth. Allegedly. Another stops at a coffee stand to burn out the taste. Allegedly.
I realize that maybe the earthy taste of the rice didn't come from mushrooms. I need to gargle some Purell. Like, $7 worth.
Kau Kau
656 S. King St.
$6.80 lunch special
