Where We’re Eating — and Singing
I’m a sucker for tapas. It’s not so much the Spanish cuisine that I crave as it is the style of ordering and eating. A bite here, a bite there, a little more of this favorite, another plateful to share as a table: Small plates let you be gluttonous on the cheap, adventurous with little risk of disappointment, and — the best part — social.
Which is why we tromped on over to Yakitori Boy, which just debuted — so new it doesn’t even have it’s liquor license yet, so BYOB — on Chinatown’s 11th Street for “japas”: small, individually ordered skewers of grilled meats (most commonly referred to, of course, as yakitori), three-piece sushi rolls, mini bowls of noodles, teriyaki dishes, and various samplers. It’s a chic little spot — all dark woods and clean lines, in soothing browns and blacks and cream — and the menu is solid, featuring all the usual suspects, from the starters to the sushi to the skewers, which are tasty and well-prepared, if less than exciting.
Aside from a few menu stars — luscious bits of pork belly wrapped around the Japanese mint leaf, oba, and the boiled quail eggs wrapped in salty bacon — it’s that social aspect we love best here. Namely, the karaoke. In fact, this japas joint one-ups tapas place out there, because the food here come with the chance to bond with pals over a chorus of “Sweet Caroline” in one of the eight soundproof, private rooms upstairs. The rooms, outfitted with leather sofas, seat between six and 25 people; they’re for rent (cheap!) by the hour based on capacity; and the waitress will bring you your own pork-belly-wrapped-oba in between numbers. — Christine Speer
Image, yakitoriboy-japas.com