Review: Starry Kitchen

Starry Kitchen

No signs, just a door knocker adorns the entrance

By Noah Galuten

The story of Starry Kitchen, supposedly named after a Hong Kong opera, is one of wholly endearing perseverance.

Last year, after Thi Tran was laid off from her job, she and husband Nguyen decided to turn misfortune into opportunity, converting their North Hollywood apartment into a part-time, underground, donation-based restaurant, serving Thi's own unique personal twist on Asian comfort foods. Their bohemian creation burst onto the viral food scene, offering a surprising alternative for hungry, inquisitive diners left mired in a sour economy.

Their establishment was destined for failure, of course, as one can receive only so many positive Yelp reviews before the health department gets wind. But the short-lived concept managed to build the couple an immediate and devoted following – albeit one based far more on hearsay than first-hand experience – and mere months later, they were given the opportunity to take over a space in the courtyard of downtown's California Plaza. Just like that, a couple with no formal training and few connections in the food service industry had a restaurant of their very own.

Starry Kitchen, now completely legal and authorized to sell food to the public, does not stray far from its roots. It is a simple, even minimalist, space: the semi-open kitchen flanks one wall, directly adjacent to a blackboard with the colorfully detailed current offerings; the well-lit dining area, featuring basic wood tables and chairs reminiscent of a newly remodeled college cafeteria, opens onto a small, semi-enclosed outdoor patio. On a first visit, the patrons (primarily downtown office workers on lunch break) will wait in line, trying to decipher the three step ordering process of “Pick Your Protein, Pick Your Vessel, Pick Your Side.”

To his credit, Nguyen, seemingly always manning the front, never evinces anything less than sparkling enthusiasm when explaining how their rotating menu works. Each week they offer a tofu dish, their lemongrass chicken and two other proteins, which can be consumed in a wrap, sandwich or salad (your "vessel"). At the end of each week, one of the proteins will leave the menu for at least a few months, while something else comes along to replace it. So if you fall in love with their Chinese hoisin hamburger served in a wrap, you'd better get back and order it again quickly, as you may not see it again for quite some time. Sides rotate as well, with daily fried rice and options like peanut noodles and sesame slaw.

The food itself is remarkably unapologetic – Thi cooks precisely what she and her husband like, with no regard for the expectations of others. It's an endearing sentiment, and one that works well with a price tag ranging seven to nine dollars, though it in no way guarantees that you're going to like everything that appears on the menu every week. But some dishes are remarkably satisfying. The Taiwanese pork chop, breaded in sweet potato flour and deep fried, is delightful in their bahn mi sandwich, balanced against the soft bread and crunchy fresh vegetables. It certainly isn't a traditional bahn mi in any true sense (not that anything on their menu is particularly traditional), but when garnished with their pickled onions and spicy peppers it is everything a hungry human could want out of a lunch plate. In general, it's the starchier, fattier and meatier dishes that are the most enjoyable. Braised Vietnamese beef is fragrant and light, all things considered; with a touch of Sriracha hot sauce the Spam fried rice is difficult to ignore; and the garlic noodles are a six-year-old's dream.

The weekly tofu dish is generally fairly mild and basic (with the exception of the crispy green tofu balls), but often it's precisely what would satisfy someone in the mood for a mellow meal. The lemongrass chicken, their only constant protein, is made from dark meat, and with a consistency and chewiness similar to dried fish is certainly not for everyone. Their salads are a bit hit-and-miss, often bogged down by a propensity for excessive starchy additions, despite some highly enjoyable features. The seared tuna salad, though, is refreshing and vibrant, and the best option for those desiring a light meal.

They serve dinner, as well, with some additional sides like fried chicken wings or macaroni and cheese, but with a restaurant that so strongly screams "workday lunch" the mood in the evenings is never quite perfect. Nevertheless, Starry Kitchen is a worthwhile addition to Downtown, giving people a range of interesting and unique choices. Eating there is like finding out what would happen if passionate foreign exchange students from Southeast Asia were given the opportunity to take over the dining hall of a college campus. You show up, you see what they have, then jump in head first and hope for the best. You probably won't love everything, but you also won't become complacent – and any restaurant that forces you try new and different foods as often as possible is never a bad thing.

Starry Kitchen, 350 South Grand Avenue Los Angeles, CA. www.starrykitchen.com

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