Sa Ri One Grill
3.5 out of 5 stars
7525 W. Hillsborough Ave., Town 'N Country. Appetizers: $3-$16; entrees: $9-$35 (all you can eat); soju, wine and sake: $5-$15. 813-280-9558.
One of the great lines in Broadway phenomenon Hamilton is a simultaneous exclamation by the Marquis de Lafayette and Caribbean transplant Alexander Hamilton: "Immigrants, we get the job done." In these politically polarized times, it stops the show.
I love that we're a country of immigrants because a diverse populace means, even without traveling the globe, we're exposed to the great music, arts and cuisine of the world. Here in Tampa Bay, we've got so many gastronomic choices that it can make your head spin. But we tend to take this for granted because it's readily available.
Over the past century we've assimilated many of these traditions so, as in Plato's Republic, they're merely shadows of what's served in their home country. However, current trends are toward returning to authenticity. This is what excites me. While I've traveled Europe and North America driven by a quest to taste wine in vineyards, I've never been to Asia due to that gastrotourism focus. But because our larger cities are mosaics of the world I've been able to sample a wide range of cuisine led by Asian friends before writing for CL. And since 2012, discovering the Asian riches of the region's culinary scene has been part of the job.
Regardless of cuisine, great food is a medley of balance and surprise. We're well represented with multiple Chinese regions (such as Cantonese and Szechuan), north and south Indian, Thai, Vietnamese, and Japanese (sushi and izakayas), plus a bit of Korean, Malaysian and Indonesian.
What we really don't have much of is Korean tabletop barbecue. Luckily, Town 'N Country's Sa Ri One Grill — owned by Chul Lee, whose mother, In Lee, founded Sa Ri One's Tampa flagship off Cypress Street — stepped in when Rice Market & Restaurant closed. I must say that preparing your own dinner on a grill, set in the center of the table before you, turns out to be loads of fun. Not everyone will share this enthusiasm, but it's actually easy with a friendly server as your guide.
Although we've come to cook, the menu, drawing from old Lee family recipes, also offers starters, soups, noodles and grilled dishes from the kitchen. Our server recommends the Hae Mul Pa Joun seafood-combo pancake appetizer, and we take the bait. My crew is glad we do. It's essentially a crispy frittata variation with green onions and bits of jalapeño; these flavors don't overwhelm chunks of calamari, scallops and shrimp dotting the huge, thin dinner-plate-size pancake. It's quite tasty, and there's enough to take home. So far, so good.
We want to sample a range of raw meats from the 13 grill-your-own choices, which are divided between plain or marinated, sweet or spicy. Out comes a rolling cart that looks like our own private butcher shop. It's got nine plates on two levels of pristine, glistening meats: Bul Go Ki beef (thin sliced and marinated in sweet sauce); Bul Go Ki pork (in spicy sauce); Ga Bi pork (loin ribs marinated in sweet sauce); Cha Dol Bae Gi (wafer-thin beef brisket); Sam Gyum Sal (long thin slices of pork belly); Mok Sal (a thicker slice of delicious pork collar); Ju Mul Yuk (seasoned beef in sweet sauce); Gal Bi Sal (boneless short ribs with lots of marbling that resembles Kobe beef); and LA Gal Bi (short ribs marinated in sweet sauce).
When you choose to grill at the table, you get three meat selections. Unless you're starving, this can easily serve two — or even three. It appears all-you-can-eat Korean barbecue is popular across the country. I have a healthy appetite, but can't imagine choosing this option. My group has more than enough for leftovers trying to finish our trio of three meats.
The table has a set of tongs and a pair of scissors. On your mark, get set… grill! Grab a platter, throw some meat on the grill, turn once as the juices rise, then snip into bite-size chunks and dip. (There are two flavoring sauces: soy vinaigrette or sesame oil with flaky salt that adds surprising flavor.) Next, place onto a piece of romaine lettuce. And before you eat it in one bite, add additional flavor and texture from the sides, known as banchan. Yum.
What sets this one-of-a-kind treat apart is the variety of banchan. These garnishes that diners use to tailor each bite of grilled meat to taste provide lots of color and flavor from little white porcelain condiment bowls. Choose from wilted spinach; sautéed peppers; fermented kimchi that's not too funky; thin squares of mild fish cake; shredded daikon/carrot with a light pop of bright acidity; crunchy bean sprouts; mixed scallions and thin white onion slices; marinated yellow radish, which our server compares to "salt and vinegar potato chips"; and a trio container with bean paste, jalapeño slices and garlic cloves.
We have a thick slice of onion to char on the grill, too, joined by huge, earthy mushrooms. And just in case you can't do without it, there's steamed rice in an attractive silver container with a decorative top.
Opting for full immersion, we add a bottle of soju, or Korean vodka, served in shot glasses. It's light and neutral, with a slight burn on the finish. And so it goes: snip, dip, garnish, chomp, sip, repeat. The delicious possibilities are endless.
The family-owned restaurant doesn't have a dessert menu, but we ask and the server volunteers that ice cream is available. Alas, we're more than stuffed and waddle back to the car amid satiated, happy giggles.
Take your friends.
Editor's note: Additional reporting for this story was done by Nicole Abbett.
CL Food Critic Jon Palmer Claridge dines anonymously when reviewing. Check out the explanation of his rating system, or email him at food@creativeloafing.com.
