Review: KoBa in Chesterfield

“The Scarlet Letter,” for those of you who haven’t read it (and from what I can ascertain from the 13-paragraph summary on GradeSaver), is about a woman forced to wear a scarlet letter “A” on her gown after an adulterous affair. I’m sure there was some other drama going on too, but frankly, I didn’t read it, either. I bring this up because I feel we have an honest relationship, and until KoBa, I had never indulged in Korean barbecue. For this sin, I should forever emblazon my chest with a scarlet “R” for rookie.

Luckily, I live in modern St. Louis rather than colonial Boston and am not subjected to such ready judgment as Hester Prynne was; I have only to answer the high-school question.

Perusing the appetizers for the first time, I did what every big brother would do. I tormented my sister by ordering the dish that would most shock her: yuk-hwe, or raw beef. Then, apparently taking a cue from her facial expression, our server first punctuated that it was raw, not rare, and double-checked my commitment to the dish. It was while he was asking the same question four more times that I realized something insidious had crept into the Chesterfield Valley. I was being profiled. I was nothing more than an American with a simple and tremulous palate. Grrrrr. A bit over the top, sure, but the barrage was an annoying point to otherwise attentive and very friendly service.

My air of righteous indignation faded as soon as the gorgeous mound of lean chopped steak interspersed with cucumber, raw garlic, sesame seeds and pine nuts and adorned with a raw egg yolk hit the table. A slightly fiery but sweet sauce brought this dish together in a chewy, crunchy, spicy, cool, beefy, nutty wonderland of textures and flavors.

Very crispy and wrapped in paper-thin dough, the gyoza (Japanese deep-fried dumplings) with their smooth and herbaceous filling sent my son into a tizzy, grabbing for every bit he could lay his hands on. Yakitori (broiled chicken breast pieces skewered with grilled scallions) awash in a very sticky, sweet sauce with sesame and salty soy notes were cooked well but were exactly as they sound: solid, not exceptional. Another of the Japanese items on the menu, negimaki, (rolls of wafer-thin broiled beef with scallions at the center) also arrived with a sticky sauce that was less sweet and had a little more soy.

Between courses is your best chance to graze the banchan, or traditional Korean side dishes, usually spicy or pickled, that just arrive at the table without being ordered. Kimchi, the most brazenly hot, had a faint bitterness from cabbage that harmonized wonderfully with the tangy heat of the sauce. A mildly spicy sauce with sweet and sour notes adorned crisp, cool cucumbers. Radish arrived two ways, pickled and in a hot sauce similar to the kimchi’s.

Fish cakes were just kind of bland, and I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll ever like seaweed. Sweet and vinegary cellophane noodles popped when bitten. Dried squid was pungent and fishy, while the dried anchovies tasted like they had been candied. Potato salad with carrots and green beans tasted very sedate compared with mustard and mayo versions.

I know by now you’ve guessed that KoBa is short for Korean barbecue, a tasty and delicious experience. You can order the barbecue dishes at a regular table, but do yourself a favor and arrive early enough to snag one with an inset grill so you can watch the magic happen.

The grill isn’t large and all items are cooked individually, so be ready to share. No matter what you order you will place it on a lettuce leaf along with any vegetable also on the grill, smear on a dollop of medium-spicy soybean paste, add some vinegary salad, maybe drizzle on a little sesame oil, roll it up and indulge.

Galbi, marinated boneless short ribs, were sweet and a little salty, beefy and tender. Shrimp gui, though marinated, only had a caress of sesame. Weirdly, they looked overdone and rubbery but were actually fantastically tender and flavorful. Sesame was again present in the chicken gui but the marinade seemed to carry a slightly nuttier spiciness that balanced superbly with the spice of the bean paste.

Then, as had happened with the raw beef, our server again triple-checked my intentions when I ordered the sam gyup sal (thin slices of belly pork). But seriously, if it were smoked and cured this would just be bacon, and I’m pretty sure we’re all familiar with that. When cooked lovingly, it turned out tender, juicy and succulent.

While the wine list is not significant, the presence of the traditional Korean beverage soju is. It is distilled from (according to the label on my bottle of Chamisul) rice along with barley, sweet potato and tapioca for a smooth and very lightly sweet taste that made me think of sake. Of import is the fact that it has enough alcohol content to relax (not rid) any heat you may come across during the meal. Be careful, however: One of these at lunch – even in its diminutive 375-milliliter bottle – will cause a very unproductive afternoon.