Neighborhood: East Village

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.

When I’m in the East Village and I’m looking for a place to really get crazy, Saturday night style, the first place I usually think of is Karma, the two-level bar and hookah lounge that has been intoxicating NYU students for years. Karma serves delicious and innovative cocktails and a decent selection of draft beers, though they sometimes mix their drinks a bit weak. The downstairs bar is more guilty of this slight (possibly because they assume the people dancing are already drunk), and the service is somewhat less attentive there, so I’d recommend you order your drinks at the upstairs bar. Regardless, the bartenders and staff, upstairs and downstairs, are always pleasant and enthusiastic, and their personable nature is a refreshing change from the cold treatment you usually get at hip lounges. Draft beers average $5-6 dollars, and mixed drinks approach $10, so be sure to take advantage of drink specials during happy hour, from 1-8pm, 7 days a week.

Hookahs are the real life of the party at Karma, however. For the uninitiated, hookahs are large, ornate water pipes with a rich cultural tradition dating back thousands of years, and they’re fun to smoke. The pipes are loaded with Shisha, a type of flavor-infused pipe tobacco, and you suck the tasty, water-cooled smoke through tubes, usually without inhaling. Hookahs create a fun communal mood and even non-smokers often enjoy a few relatively harmless puffs. The hookahs are a bit overpriced ($16 each), especially since the staff uses fast-burning coals and charge you for an extra coal. But it’s rare to find a good place to smoke a hookah anymore, and they have a lot of good Shisha flavors (my favorites are Apple and Strawberry). The hookahs are in keeping with Karma’s desert oasis theme, which is indicated in the decorations with palm trees, draped tapestries and warm red lighting, as well as the eclectic antique furniture which speaks of colonial times.

While you puff away, contemplating the essence of life, take a look at the often excellent artwork on the walls, which is the work of underground artists from the area. Don’t linger too long in this peaceful state, however, because Karma’s downstairs parties are almost as much of a trademark as their hookahs. There is pretty much always dancing on the lower level, though technically the customers are merely performing, hence the tiny stage at the end of the room (to keep within the limits of the ridiculous and outdated Cabaret Law). Occasionally you may be asked to move your dancing up onto the stage for this reason. It’s kind of annoying, but it makes it all the more ridiculous and fun attempting to follow these obscure rules while getting cheesed. The downstairs level of Karma is a great place for a big group of friends – people are always hosting parties there (me included), for birthdays, bachelorette parties, or any kind of celebration, really.

A word of warning: Karma is one of the few places in New York that still allows smoking, and people sure do take advantage, to such an extent that sensitive non-smokers may find Karma’s interior unpleasant. But since I spent my early bargoing years in Tucson, pre-smoking ban, inhaling massive plumes of secondhand smoke from the chain-smoking regulars, smoky bars now make me feel more nostalgic than annoyed. An air purification system is supposedly at work to combat the effects of the smoke, but it doesn’t seem to help much, especially on the lower level. Also the DJs often suck, but that’s a problem common to a lot of bars and lounges, and they do allow a lot more fun audience participation, which can be good (when you’re the one singing and dancing onstage) and bad (when anyone else is).

All in all, Karma may not be the swankiest lounge in New York, nor the best place to go dancing, nor the best hookah bar, but it benefits from having a little of everything. And after you’ve had a couple of drinks and a few puffs on the hookah, it’ll seem like the Ivy.

The legendary automat has had a long and rich history in New York and other big American and European cities. These automated eateries, which allowed customers to purchase their food from coin-operated slots and eat them in a communal cafeteria-type setting, enjoyed their heyday in the first half of the 20th Century, peaking during the office worker boom of the 1950s. By the 70s, McDonalds and take-out had rendered the automat all but useless, and you’d be hard-pressed to find one, in New York or anywhere else. But a few years ago, that all changed with the opening of Bamn! Inspired by a new generation of Dutch automats serving fast comfort food like burgers and sandwiches, entrepreneurs David Leong and Nobu X decided to revitalize this hibernating tradition in New York, and the results are nothing less than delightful.

Bamn!’s fluorescent pink-lit, glowing design gives it a futuristic, otherworldly feel, and draws people in from the street out of sheer curiosity. It seems to be part of a new trend of modern-looking, Japanese-influenced, colorful fast food places in the neighborhood, and so far, it seems like the locals (mostly NYU students) are eating it up. With their stand-up tables and window serving beverages and Pommes Frites with a crazy variety of dipping sauces, Bamn! makes a perfectly wonderful place to stay and eat, though you could also take your food on the go, thanks to its extreme portability. The purchasing of the food is half the fun, of course, and change machines ensure that you won’t find yourself quarterless and desperately clawing at the glass standing between you and your dinner. The sometimes Asian-influenced comfort food offerings are constantly changing, but some items that make frequent appearances are grilled cheese, mini burgers, mac and cheese croquettes, and Chinese-style roasted pork buns. Nothing here is particularly mind-blowing, but it will satisfy your greasy-salty cravings capably.

The food is a tad overpriced (averaging $2.50 an item), especially since the potions are tiny and you need to buy three or four items if you really want to make a meal of it. It’s best to come here when you’re on your way somewhere and haven’t had a chance to eat, or when the late-night munchies strike you on your way home from the bar. It is at these drunken times that Bamn! really shines, because you can lurch up to the vending area and spend as long as you want deciding, then order without having to annoy any staff members with your speech-slurring ways. Frankly, I don’t know why automats aren’t still a New York staple, considering our collective love of speedy service. Maybe Bamn! will inspire a series of imitators, and we will enjoy a second golden age of convenience.