This week I take a look at Rohst, the newest only Korean outpost on Lower Greenville Avenue. I loved the restaurants layout, but the menu was a hard sell. Dishes that boasted tasty flavor components lacked something in execution. Dishes that were cooked well, boasted quirky flavor components. I'm still trying to figure out why a kitchen would top a nice bulgogi with terrible cheddar cheese and serve it with a strange dipping sauce.
While eating my last meal at the restaurant I discussed the dishes with my dining companion. "It's like you can almost see a fight going on in the kitchen played out on the plates," I told him. One contingent wants to pander to a neighborhood that might be slightly less adventurous -- they think cheese makes everything better. The other half wants to stay true to authentic Korean flavors -- they think Seoul's got soul.
But the cheese contingent won. Michele and Steve Choi, former owners of Chosun have left Rohst to focus on other endeavors. Brad Wells, the general manager, jumped ship too. He's looking at opportunities with the new Del Frisco opening in the spot next to Private Social. They leave Wonjong Ham to run the restaurant himself.
My review of Rohst became an exploration of authenticity, location, and a questioning of Dallas' collective palate. Where, inside the loop, will authentic Korean flavors herald a restaurant's success. Would a restaurant like Korea House, makers of that spicy fish soup I can't stop blogging about, do well in Lower Greenville, or would diners issue a collective WTF, as they poured over the menu and higher rent eroded the restaurant's bottom line.
