I grew up eating Korean food, and I've taken great pleasure in seeing this new wave of Korean-inflected cooking make a splash on the American urban culinary scene. My fellow Korean-American and gluttonous counterpart Michael K. brought me to Joule on my recent visit to Seattle. He noted that he'd disliked the place when it first opened--too on the nose with the Korean fusion--but that it had turned into something remarkable over the last few years.
I went for Sunday night dinner with Mike, Gino G., and Melissa K.--it was the last meal of a fantastic weekend trip. We had a 7:00 reservation, and the place was bumping when we arrived. We got a deep corner table, which was comfortable except for its great distance from the bathroom, which took some real navigational ability to find. The space was lovely, modern and open with cool turquoise wallpaper I couldn't stop staring at. Service was also great--our server was friendly and helpful, and the food came out at a good pace, split into several courses.
There was a full bar, and Mike and I partook in a couple cocktails, both excellent. The Jalisco Campfire was a refreshing mix of tequila and lapsang souchong tea with agave, Thai chili and lime. The 35 Stone Buck had a similar balance of weight and lightness, with bourbon, Asian pear, cinnamon honey, Peychaud's bitters, and Rachel's ginger beer. I like my small plates restaurants to have good cocktail programs, and I was pleased with Joule's selection.
To my great delight, the food was spectacular. There was no banchan--banchan would really put small plates spots out of business--but our meal started with a tremendous tofu dish, not entirely unlike the cold sauced tofu you see at a lot of Korean restaurants. This one was clearly worth paying for, though, the luscious smoked tofu topped with honshimeji mushroom confit, soy truffle vinaigrette, and a bright scattering of scallions. The mushrooms were beautifully textured, and the vinaigrette brought a blast of flavor. This is one of Joule's signature dishes, and I can see why--it was deceptively simple and very, very memorable.
We chowed down on some noodles and rice for the next chunk of our meal, and both were slam dunks. The chilled sesame noodles were pleasantly chewy, topped with pickled chanterelles in a pool of mushroom togarashi sauce, which we mixed in ourselves. There was a ton of heat and complex flavor in this dish--I never wanted to stop eating it. The geoduck fried rice was comparatively understated, a mild fried rice with bits of geoduck, pork rind, and scallions, mixed with a plentiful green dusting of powdery seaweed. More geoduck in bigger pieces would've been nice (and likely prohibitively expensive), but I enjoyed the calm, penetrating flavors in this dish, and the fluffy fried rice texture was impeccable.
We finished the savory portion of our dinner with some meat and sides. The octopus was a great small plate, cooked tender with just the right chew, served with bok choy, grilled lemon, and a hot bacon vinaigrette that included great little nuggets of diced hot bacon. "That" short rib steak was a fantastic interpretation of Korean barbecue, itself a semi-Americanized corner of Korean cuisine. This was six ounces of juicy kalbi, carved up and served with grilled kimchi, blistered pepper, and a gochujang sauce. Not groundbreaking, but super satisfying. The vegetable sides were also on point. Chinese broccoli, cooked to ideal firmness, came with a chunky walnut pesto and fat cloves of garlic. Savory roasted cauliflower shared a bowl with smokey yogurt and a heap of bonito flakes.
Dessert was its own event. We shared three, each one fun and unique. The Devil's food cake was a rich square of chocolate cake with a light crumb, served with buttercream, pecans, banana miso ice cream, and passionfruit caramel and marshmallows. The miso wasn't apparent in the ice cream, which meant this was basically a chocolate, passionfruit, and banana dessert, but no complaints there. The other two desserts were just splendid. The tres leches was so moist it was practically falling apart, and it came with créme fraiche whip, fennel jam, and a honey feta crumble, all of which countered the milky sweetness of the cake while adding their own blasts of flavor. The Joule box was as pretty and delicious as could be, a bed of white pearl tapioca topped with ruby grapefruit brûlée, a heap of toasted coconut on the side. I loved the bursting tapioca with the loose cream and torched grapefruit of the brûlée. So light, with such restrained sweetness.
I was extremely happy with our dinner at Joule. Every dish struck me as interesting and innovative, and several of them impressed me with their incorporation of not just generically Asian, but distinctly Korean flavors. This felt like a true second generation Korean-American restaurant, the work of a talented chef who grew up on the same flavors I did. I don't live in Seattle, but I fully intend to eat this food again. read more