The Mystery of Asian Restaurant Decor
Last night, Cooper and I went out to dinner with some friends who live just north of us. We had a great dinner - sushi at Edo Sushi (in a cheesy strip mall in Timonium). Super fresh fish, good service, lots of fun all around. The restaurant is BYOB, which makes for a somehow relaxing atmosphere that's somewhere in between home and "out". (Our friends introduced us to a great bottle of Chardonnay from White Oak vineyard in Sonoma County - unfortunately, it's not sold anywhere around us and we can't have wine shipped to us).
What was really interesting about the restaurant, though, was it's simple and attractive decor. The place actually seemed designed to encourage easy discussion and some sort of privacy at individual tables. The walls were oddly lacking in bizarre and tacky artwork. Overall, it was...soothing.
My first sushi experience was at Joss in Annapolis - a great restaurant, but one that is so crowded and crazy it's hard to move. On one occasion, I went to Joss with my friend Matt. He didn't like the shirt I was wearing (it was a red t-shirt from Target with a sparkly white Target logo in the middle) and felt strongly enough about it that he told the people at the table next to ours that we were just friends, not "together." This would seem odd, except that the table next to ours TOUCHED our table. We were essentially seated with the people next to us. I'm not unfriendly, but I don't need to be that close to other people's dinner conversations, either.
Joss is saved by their amazing food, though. As is Bangkok Kitchen, a tiny Thai restaurant my parents go to. BK is in a ridiculously trashy shopping center near Fort Meade and has the most hideous decor I've ever seen. Shocking pink walls, kitschy Thai artwork, crappy tables. Yet it's not much different from most other good Thai restaurants inside.
It's as if there's some sort of unwritten set of rules among Asian restauranteurs: to be truly respected as authentic and "good" the dining environment needs to be just a little off. I guess it does add something to my experience...but that something is more a sense of wonder and bewilderment than any kind of respect. It's just weird.
What was really interesting about the restaurant, though, was it's simple and attractive decor. The place actually seemed designed to encourage easy discussion and some sort of privacy at individual tables. The walls were oddly lacking in bizarre and tacky artwork. Overall, it was...soothing.
My first sushi experience was at Joss in Annapolis - a great restaurant, but one that is so crowded and crazy it's hard to move. On one occasion, I went to Joss with my friend Matt. He didn't like the shirt I was wearing (it was a red t-shirt from Target with a sparkly white Target logo in the middle) and felt strongly enough about it that he told the people at the table next to ours that we were just friends, not "together." This would seem odd, except that the table next to ours TOUCHED our table. We were essentially seated with the people next to us. I'm not unfriendly, but I don't need to be that close to other people's dinner conversations, either.
Joss is saved by their amazing food, though. As is Bangkok Kitchen, a tiny Thai restaurant my parents go to. BK is in a ridiculously trashy shopping center near Fort Meade and has the most hideous decor I've ever seen. Shocking pink walls, kitschy Thai artwork, crappy tables. Yet it's not much different from most other good Thai restaurants inside.
It's as if there's some sort of unwritten set of rules among Asian restauranteurs: to be truly respected as authentic and "good" the dining environment needs to be just a little off. I guess it does add something to my experience...but that something is more a sense of wonder and bewilderment than any kind of respect. It's just weird.
posted by Kit Pollard at
2:10 PM
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