Spicy prawn “is 5 on a heat scale of 10,” the Hakkasan waiter advised us. I’d say 2 — but numbers don’t mean much to customers at Hakkasan, a “modern Cantonese” wealth-redistribution facility convenient to the Lincoln Tunnel. Chilean bass, $48?
The original London Hakkasan snared the first Michelin star awarded to a Chinese restaurant in Europe. There are now eight Hakkasans in London, the Middle East and the US. Last year, I predicted the Manhattan splashdown would set off a media frenzy. It hasn’t. Why? Rather than hire a savvy, local food flackery factory, they tapped a “global” p.r. outfit — which says a lot about Hakkasan’s audience. Hint: It ain’t us.
The London mother ship evokes a Vegas-y Asian barn like those of late 1990s Manhattan. The new West Side jumbo feels cramped despite its 11,000-square-foot sprawl. Much of $10 million went into precious marble walls and monotonously extended “Ling Ling screens.” Despite being “from a single block in a quarry in Carrara, Italy,” they look curiously plastic.
An incense ambush at the entrance evokes Saturday night on St. Marks Place. Beyond a long bar glowing blue, the dining zone is sliced and diced into a maze of latticed alcoves. Don’t cringe if you think you’re in Siberia: The whole place feels that way.
Hakkasan’s cheerful floor staff deserves a less ridiculous menu to sell than one touting “supreme special dishes” up to $888 (for braised abalone and black truffle, if you must know). No, thanks.
True, everything tastes freshly prepared. Chef Ho Chee Boon turns out several splendid, more or less affordable dishes. Meticulously composed steamed dumplings of scallops, har gau, prawn and chive and black pepper duck, eight for $28, are a relative steal.
So is sesame prawn “toast” — deep-fried spheres of oozy fun for $25, anchored by shrimp and foie gras and crisp-coated with sesame seeds.
But most tabs make you gag even when dishes are tolerable, a benchmark intermittently achieved. You don’t have to share the dumb view that Chinese food “should” be cheap to recoil from the $24 fee for a phalanx of duck and mango slices marching through icky-sweet “lemon” sauce.
Numerous creations don’t taste Chinese at all. Prawns ($34) more sweet than “spicy” were wasted on one-note yellow curry redolent of the British empire. “Silver” (black) cod looked pretty and tasted fine at first nibble. Then came the bones. Then a saccharine sea of champagne, lemon and Chinese honey. All for just $49.
Stir-fried lobster in XO sauce is among “dishes specifically created for New York.” It would be less than half of $59 in any of the city’s Chinatowns. The chewy crustacean is what steakhouses call “tail.”
Strong desserts ($15 a pop) are too little, too late. I’ll see you on Mott Street.