Shukette
A place where what you order doesn’t matter. It’s going to be delicious.
I say all the time that restaurant experiences are so much more about the people you share the meal with and the atmosphere that it happens in, but the food does matter. Maybe when I think about my own experience at a certain restaurant, say Jon & Vinny’s in Los Angeles, I think about going there for the first time my freshman year in college to celebrate my friend Lauren’s birthday, going there throughout my years in LA with friends… and friends who turned out to be quite the opposite… and then celebrating my 22nd birthday and college graduation and saying goodbye to LA all in one go. Me and Jon & Vinny’s: quite a storied history.
But if you were going to Jon & Vinny’s and we were talking about it, I would tell you to get the gem lettuce with Calabrian chili dressing, the “LA Woman” pizza and spicy fusilli. And then suddenly, it’s all about the food. Because I find that however fun a place is, the food does matter, and it’s how we talk about restaurants to each other, usually for good reason. You’re probably not going to actively pick a restaurant with bad food, and once you’re at a restaurant someone else you know has been to, the impulse is to take their advice on how to order. Fair enough.
The thing about Shukette though is that it transcends this need to discuss what to order (and what not to), because during my extensive period of research for this piece (I went three times in a year and a half, let’s not get crazy now) the menu has changed to unrecognizable degrees, and yet every meal has remained consistently spectacular. (And even if the menu hasn’t changed, its size makes every meal there feel novel.)
I have no idea what I ordered the first time I went. My friends and I had wanted to go out to dinner after my friend Nat’s first day of work at a new job, and we all happened to work or live near Chelsea. We had made a reservation for drinks at Bathtub Gin after failing to get a reservation at Shukette for a group of five, only for my friend Neeraj to snag one at Shukette day of. So we canceled Bathtub Gin and all met at Shukette, work bags in tow. (I still haven’t been to Bathtub Gin.)
Seated around the restaurant’s sole circular table at the front of the oddly-shaped space, we passed around plates of Middle Eastern classics like hummus and pita and kebabs—did the Knights of the Round Table eat so decadently? We toasted to fresh starts—Nat had just moved back to New York as well—and at under a year of living in New York myself, I felt that we were at the genesis of a beautiful life in this big city. And food, when it’s good, blends into the background of these moments: the ensemble that immerses you more deeply into the moment.
I sang Shukette’s praises long after that meal, but didn’t actually go back again until August, when my friend Jordan and I wanted to get dinner after work. We had an arsenal of restaurants we could walk into on deck, but I suddenly woke up craving Shukette and realized that they have an online waitlist you can join on the Resy app. The important lesson I learned about Shukette the first time around is that while it’s great to have a reservation ahead of time, it’s usually possible to walk in or snag a booking last minute. Conveniently, the restaurant is so close to the office that I could make it to the front of the waitlist before leaving and still make it in time, so it’s a great post-work dinner option for me.
While the menu does change, there are a few items that are consistent and must-orders. The labneh is so creamy and sweet and tart, and I love pairing it with frena, the only acceptable bread to order at Shukette. (The other ones are good. The frena is epic.) I love spreading the cloves of confit garlic that nestle in the dimples of the Moroccan bread, and then dipping… and dipping and dipping.
But the fun of Shukette is trying the new menu additions, whether they’re actually new or just new to you.For example, Jordan and I ordered cherries with cilantro, Serrano pepper and lime—reminiscent of Tajin and mango, another spicy and sweet fruit-based concoction—which were surprisingly delicious. Cherries, already a perfect fruit IMO, with a little kick to it turned out to be quite addicting. And I wouldn’t have ever known without dining at Shukette with an appetite for adventure.
Most recently, my friend Amenda and I met at Shukette after work, and this time we were able to get a reservation day of for an early dinner. I tried the smoked Arctic char for the first time, which is mixed with an onion-garlic aioli, dill, red onion and lemon. It packs a punch, especially paired with… you guessed it, frena. Amenda and I joked about the horrors of kissing either of us after this portion of the meal. I think a less flavorful bread would have paired better with the Arctic char, but you’d have to pry the frena out of my cold, dead hands.
The heirloom tomato salad was a surprise hit. I wondered how interesting tomatoes could be, but then realized that I had never had them on a bed of whipped garlic, and that made all the difference (along with basil, sesame and Aleppo pepper). Once again, we joked about the smell of our breath while stuffing our faces.
We also ordered an off-menu special, short rib with a pomegranate glaze. When our server told us about it, we said “bring it on, we’ll try it!” and that’s exactly how to approach any meal and any dish at Shukette. What’s the worst that could happen? It could be absolutely f*cking delicious?
And if you’re feeling dessert—and you should always be at Shukette—tahini soft serve with a hat of halva floss and a sprinkle of hazelnuts. They call it “The Mic Drop.” A choose-your-own-adventure restaurant that always has a happy ending: a mic drop indeed…
Bite It!
Make a reservation on Resy. Or don’t and join the waitlist, also on Resy!