PlanJam!From your screen to the scene

A lot of people who walk by Kenka on St. Marks Place scratch their heads and wonder what all the fuss is about. Sure, there’s a cool-looking cotton candy machine parked on the front porch, and sure there’s a semi-creepy giant red-eyed badger statue beckoning from the doorway. But what could cause such long lines on a block with a billion other sushi places, enough that this part of St. Marks is sometimes referred to as Little Tokyo? I can only speak for myself, but I keep coming back simply because the food is fresh and delicious, and the menu leaves plenty of interesting options for those who want to experience Japanese cuisine beyond the same old sushi rolls and sashimi (although those are excellent as well). But I also have to admit they could be serving gruel for all I care, because the decorations are so freakin’ awesome.

Kenka’s retro, almost kitschy Japanese style makes you feel like you’re in a funky Tokyo café a world away from the grunge of the East Village. As soon as you walk in the door and sit at your charmingly low table, you are swept away by the sights and sounds of another time and place. Post-war Japanese film soundtracks play through tinny, old-fashioned speakers, and vintage movie posters and a glass-enclosed atrium give the place a sort of Kill Bill feel. Dozens of cute Japanese servers, male and female, dash around the dining room, clad in identical t-shirts and bandannas. They’re as hip as any early-twenties American waiter in the neighborhood, and they, along with many other aspects of Kenka, bring a refreshing sense of youth and vitality to the sometimes square sushi scene.

The food follows this pattern of bucking the norm by offering a variety of Japanese comfort food dishes, in addition to the raw fish you’d expect. With the amount of hot food leaving the kitchen at Kenka, the place feels more like a Johnny Rockets-style diner, Tokyo-style, than a sushi joint. You’d be a fool not to try the Hamachi No Kamayaki (grilled yellow tail neck, $7) as an appetizer. There is no morsel of fish more tender or decadent that I can remember eating in a long time. If you’re a sashimi fan like a lot of my friends, you’ll love the very reasonably priced Sashimi Moriawase plate (9 pieces of tuna, salmon, mackerel, and bonito sashimi, $8.50). The sushi rolls offered are pretty typical, but as with the sashimi, the freshness and skilled preparation really shine through and make for a revelatory eating experience, at least for someone like me who isn’t usually very fond of raw fish. I’m happy with a simple bowl of Ramen noodle soup ($5), which puts the packaged stuff I lived on through college to shame, but if you like impressive displays, try one of the Nabe dishes (like the Buta Nabe, with pork, tofu and vegetables in fish broth, $15). They’re prepared and served in bubbling tableside cauldrons, always a plus, and they represent some of the heartiest food on the menu, making these simmering vats of deliciousness perfect for those cold winter nights in the city.

You can also choose from a long list of inexpensive a la carte items that rivals a dim sum cart in variety and offers customers an inexpensive way to try a little of everything. Typical a la carte options include salted raw octopus with wasabi flavor, sliced roasted pork, and steamed pig feet, all in portions big enough to give everyone at the table a piece of the action. You’ll also find such delicacies as Bull’s Penis and Turkey Testicles on the slightly pornographic impulse menu left at the table. I refuse to go that far for journalism, but I’m sure they’re very tasty…in their own way. I’ve never managed to save room for dessert, but I have my eye on the Mochi Ice Cream and the mysterious Anmitsu, which is described on the menu as “cubes of white translucent jelly made from seaweed served with sweet bean paste and vanilla ice cream” ($4). Mmm, cubes of goo.

It is only upon paying the bill, however, that you remember the best thing about Kenka. Along with the bill, the servers bring each patron a small cup of pink sugar, which can be used to spin sweet, delicious cotton candy on your way out. The first time I went with my boyfriend, not knowing what it was, he immediately downed the sugar like a shot upon receiving it, causing me to slap my forehead Charlie Brown-style. Don’t make the same mistake, or you too will be left watching longingly as your friends enjoy their delicious spun sugar treats. There’s just something so satisfying about pushing through the craziness of the East Village night, full and satisfied and making cotton candy mustaches like you were five years old again. Any restaurant that can bring a little bit of innocent fun back like that is OK by me.