Visions Of Barbecue -- Kau Kau Lets It All Hang Out

May 30, 1993

John Hinterberger

IT'S THE TOUGHEST storefront to walk past in the International District.

Some restaurants that succeed down through the years are not necessarily great. But they manage to do some things so well that those selected virtues become a reason for being.

Kau Kau is one of those. Its reasons for being are hanging, bronzed and glistening, in its front window. Kau Kau is a Chinese barbecue restaurant. Dripping sections of pork and succulent whole ducks hang from hooks: warm, fragrant and tantalizing, demanding attention.

There are literally hundreds of faithful Kau Kau regulars, I suspect, who have never sat down inside the place for so much as a fortune cookie. They have simply made their purchases at the front counter ($5.50 for a pound of what may be the best barbecued pork in town; $5.75 for spareribs) and headed either home or to the Kingdome across the tracks.

"We are best known for our barbecues," admits Clifford Eng, the general manager and son of the restaurant's owner and founder, Wai Eng. "We sell between 200 to 300 pounds of barbecue a day on weekends, and upwards of a hundred pounds on a weekday."

What, I asked him, does Kau Kau mean?

Eng wasn't sure.

"It's Hawaiian," he said. "My great-grandfather came here from Hawaii. I think it just means something like good food."

Whatever it means, the barbecue is spectacular. Never dry, always moist and tender. I have friends who never go to a Mariner game without stopping by for a carton of Kau Kau's Barbecued Pork Chow Mein ($4.75), which is aromatic enough to inflame the senses of 40 rows of Kingdog-whining fans.

Every now and then, however, the takeout gang ought to drop in for a sit-down dinner. Kau Kau has a vast menu - not all of it spectacular (I've had a few clinkers) - but much of it impressive. The menu lists 175 entries, including one delicacy I've never had the courage to order. Next year (maybe) I'll try the Potted Mountain Goat, if it's not a joke.

The restaurant has expanded since it first opened as a tiny red storefront across the street from Tai Tung in the mid-1970s. It added a dining room on the west side of the counter, filled it up with a few large, circular tables for big parties, and a half-dozen others for those without extended families. On the west wall hangs what has to be the most ornate and imposing bas relief in the International District, a Chinese wood carving of a bustling harbor scene about 12 feet long.

The wait staff is congenial and helpful. As one waiter pointed out recently: "You are already getting a garlic sauce on your scallops; maybe you should have the asparagus with oyster sauce instead of black bean and garlic, so you have different flavors."

It was a nice touch and good advice.

Also helpful is the large blackboard in the original dining area, with its list of seasonal vegetable specials. Instead of posting a column of specialty dishes (most of which are included in the printed menu under "Delectable Dishes"), Kau Kau posts a large chart with the vegetables at the left and the various accompaniments, sauces and prices stringing out to the right. For example, you could order long green beans plain, or with pork, prawns, beef, and so forth; the price escalating with the complexity of the finished arrangement.

Kau Kau has an earned reputation for its vegetables (along with the barbecue). Whether long beans, asparagus, Chinese greens (baby bok choy) and others, often in a black bean-garlic sauce, or stir-fried with sweet, tender shrimp in a light, mild sauce - the dishes are almost always superb.

I order potstickers in any Chinese restaurant that offers them. For a couple of reasons. The first is that I like them; the second is they are a good measure of a kitchen's quality and technical control. Potstickers can be easily assembled and cooked, but they are also amazingly easy to screw up; overcooked, over-fried, under-filled, too bland, too dense, etc.

Kau Kau's Potstickers ($4.25 for six) are OK, but not much more than that. A recent order was a bit leathery on one side, had uncomplex, meaty centers with no hint of vegetable or ginger, and were served without a dipping sauce.

The Wonton Soup ($4.25) was pretty ordinary, as well, helped by pleasant sesame oil overtones in a quite light chicken broth and heaped full of wontons surrounding some fairly strong-tasting ground pork. Translation: You'd agree to a second bowl, but pass on the third.

Great noodle dishes. A couple of friends always order the house Special Chow Mein ($6.75), loaded with vegetables (bok choy, baby corn, carrots, etc.) plus generous inclusions of shrimp, chicken, barbecued pork and rolled-up sections of mantles of baby squid.

A similar platter, Barbecued Pork Lau Mein ($4.50) has fewer vegetables, a higher proportion of meats and is a bit drier in texture.

One of my favorites is the Barbecued Pork Chow Foon (their spelling; $4.75), the thin, translucent rice noodles with pork (or try the shredded barbecued duck), heady with flavors and aromas of celery, garlic and meat. A little scrambled egg adds color and contrast - a light, but flavorful dish.

I was mildly disappointed by the Braised Seafood Combination ($8.75). A few shrimp and scallops were braised with veggies (including American broccoli), then ladled at table side on top of a heated metal platter of fried vermicelli. It looked lovely, sounded delicious and smelled heavenly, but in this case the sizzle outperformed the seafood. The unpeeled squid had a strong, fishy taste - the rest of the dish was bland.

Hot Pots (priced from $8 to $10.50) are usually quite good. We enjoyed a grand, sizzling metal pot full of Potted Chicken Smothered with Ginger and Onion ($8.25), the scorched wooden handle adding a touch of authenticity. There are a dozen such presentations, including "Salted Fish & Boneless Chicken," "Tung Kong Bean Cake Pot" and "Potted Roasted Pig with Oysters."

The main attraction on South Main, however, is the quintessential hangings of barbecue. The roast pig is excellent, although you have to enjoy fat to fully appreciate it. The barbecued pork tenderloins are the major mover (Kau Kau claims it's the best but the Ocean City a few blocks away does a version that's hard to beat) but my favorite has to be the pork spareribs.

One quibble. I wish the restaurant would use plates that are a bit larger. The small, dessert-sized crockery they serve on barely holds a good-sized scoop of rice and a couple of heaping spoonfuls of goodies.

And some of us scoop more vigorously than others.

# # $$ Kau Kau Restaurant and Barbecue Market, 656 S. King St. (Chinese). Lunch and dinner (same menu: $3.75 to $10.50) 10 a.m. to 10 p.m. Sunday through Thursday; until midnight Friday, Saturday. Beer, wine. Major credit cards. Nonsmoking area. Reservations and takeout: 682-4006.

John Hinterberger's food columns and restaurant reviews appear Sundays in Pacific and Fridays in Tempo. Harley Soltes is the Pacific photographer.