Merging different types of foods is a risky business these days. In these sparkling times, the seemingly harmless blending of cooking techniques and styles can easily explode. Make a mistake or show disrespect and what used to be called “fusion cuisine” becomes “cultural appropriation”.
So maybe it will take a lot of courage in 2021 to open Loro, a place that calls itself the “Asian Smokehouse & Bar”. Borrowing flavors and styles from the East and Texas barbecue to create a menu? Texans don’t like messing around, and that goes double that when it comes to their barbecue. But perhaps the greater risk is two white male chefs bringing an “Asian Smokehouse” concept from Austin to Dallas. Recent history here shows how quickly tempers can flare up.
For example, the social media feud between Mot Hai Ba cook Peja Krstic and several Vietnamese-Americans last year over the incorrect spelling of bánh mì showed that there is still a gap to be bridged.
Then there was Hot Joy’s brief tenure in Uptown four years ago. “Hot Joy is an unsuspecting white dude fantasy in which Asian identity and cuisine are reduced to a series of ironic clichés,” wrote former Observer restaurant critic Brian Reinhart in a review shortly before it closed.
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How does Loro hope to navigate the minefield? With respect and a lot of talent, that’s how it works. The duo behind this collaboration are Tyson Cole from Uchi and Aaron Franklin from Franklin’s Barbecue, who each have a James Beard Award on their résumé.
One of the problems with Hot Joy was that the owner of the restaurant peppered the decor with paper dragons, dragon masks, tiki masks, lanterns, stone Buddhas, and vague Chinese paintings and then offered food that, to put it nicely, wasn’t good.
Reinhart asked if white boys should borrow from other cultures, specifically mentioning Cole as someone who found ways to prepare Asian food with respect and creativity. Cole’s passion for Japanese cuisine is well documented; By studying food and culture, Cole also learned the Japanese language and worked at Musashino for six years under the guidance of chef and owner Takehiko Fuse.
On the other side of the cultural divide, not many Texas barbecue fans are likely to be making potshots at Franklin, which arguably is why Texas barbecue is so popular today. Its eponymous barbecue trailer opened in 2009 and quickly gained a reputation for serving brisket on par with the best traditional joints in the state. Just 18 months later, Bon Appétit proclaimed Franklin’s “the best BBQ in Texas, if not America” and encouraged legions of mine masters to start their own ventures in the new old Franklin style.
Skylights let sun rays into the grill hall and underline the minimalist style and the natural wood tones.
Alison McLean
Cooking across cultures requires a strong sense of responsibility, and Cole and Franklin went to the trouble of mastering their respective cuisines. Their talent and experience allow them to play with the rules and, in the case of Loro, combine two styles of cooking in new and imaginative ways. The best way to avoid being painted as culturally insensitive is to not make a lame end product. The food at Loro is increasing.
“For a chef like me who gets into this, we’re still in the process of creating it,” says Mike Perez, head chef at Loro. “We have this post-oak, Central Texas / Czech-style, Aaron Franklin-style barbecue, then we have Tyson and Uchi and the umami, the clean flavors, the light feel of smoked turkey, then we use a lot of those clean flavors high acidity to reduce wealth. ”
This mix of styles on the menu also applies to the decor at Loro on Haskell Avenue, with indoor and outdoor dining that feel warm and inviting. The temperate weather attracted many guests to Loro’s spacious terrace on our two visits, but the interior is just as inviting, with lots of honey-colored wood reminiscent of a minimalist Japanese style shaped like a hall in a large barbecue area.
For the time being, all orders from Loro take place inside the bar; There is no table service. One member of staff will take your order and give you a number, and another member of staff will bring your food. (You can eat at the bar which makes it seem like you get regular table service and is a great way to interact with the helpful staff.)
Wonton chips are served with a peanut sambal and green Thai salsa.
Alison McLean
Loro’s drinks menu is impressive. There is a quartet of boozy slushes (our waiter lets us try a delicious mango sake slushy), a selection of batch cocktails on tap and a beer menu on tap that is heavily based on Texas brewers.
On our first visit, we accepted our server’s recommendation for wonton chips and dips ($ 6.25). The fried wontons are light and crispy, sprinkled with red pepper chunks that add a slight tingling sensation after you’ve eaten some of them. The peanut sambal has a rich orange hue and a decadent peanut flavor, while the Thai green salsa is dominated by coriander before bringing its own mellow kick. Both sauces play well with the gentle heat of the wontons. We also thought we created a new dish by dipping a wonton in sambal and salsa, but Perez tells us he does the same.
Crispy corn fritters have sweet whole corn kernels and are served with a spicy Sriracha aioli.
Alison McLean
The crispy corn fritters ($ 7.75) slide back onto the smokehouse side of the menu. Whole corn kernels cover the fried donut and give every bite a remarkable sweetness. Orders come with a sriracha aioli that adds some cooling creaminess, but we wish it was a little spicier. The same goes for the chilli aioli that goes with the chicken karaage that we tried on a second visit; We were hoping for more zing from the dipping sauce. Karaage is a Japanese way of deep-frying and is skilfully carried out here. Each bite carried a crispy, browned batter that protected juicy pieces of chicken breast underneath.
Of course, any restaurant that serves brisket and is affiliated with Aaron Franklin will invite comparisons to his barbecue place in Austin. While this might not be the same brisket you would get if you stood in line for hours at Franklin’s in Austin, Loro still delivers on the brisket size promise. The pile of brisket – you have no choice between lean or moist – are incredibly tender with exquisite meatiness. Think of your knife as a decorative accessory. The brisket is stacked on a plate and topped with pickled onions, Thai basil and coriander and then drizzled with a subtle chili gastrique that makes the taste of the brisket shine.
The smoked turkey is served with an apricot chutney and crispy diamond skin.
Alison McLean
We enjoyed the turkey breast ($ 14.50) which was perfectly moist and smoky. The dish gets a hint of a slightly sweet apricot chutney and crispy chicken skin slices served with it, which makes for an interesting textural addition.
Would you like something other than Texas barbecue? Loro has you covered while still representing its smokehouse roots. The smoked salmon ($ 18) is served as a healthy fillet in a bowl with a cucumber yuzu broth. The fish was cooked almost perfectly (one edge seemed a bit overdone when we wanted to nibble) and the smoke flavor just stayed in the background without overwhelming the fish.
If we order the salmon again, we might have one of Loro’s rice bowls. The coconut scented rice has just a hint of citrus brightness that stands out against the salmon. We also ordered a Malaysian Curry Chicken Rice Bowl ($ 13.75) which arrived topped with bright yellow curry chicken and an assortment of pickled vegetables that made for the perfect meal, light yet filling. A sesame oil dressing accompanies the bowl, but we felt it would dampen the light flavors if applied too heavily.
Service is a high point when you are seated at the bar, but even stepping into the bar to place an order is a friendly and quick process. The staff we dealt with were knowledgeable and friendly. When we placed an order at the bar and then grabbed a table outside, the waiter who brought our dishes explained the key ingredients of each dish. We had a breakdown in service on our second visit when two of us ordered a common starter and two main courses. The starter and one main course came shortly after we sat down at our table, but it took a few minutes for our second main course to appear.
These are minor hiccups that didn’t detract from the Loro experience. Chef Perez tells us that the dinner service is thriving and they are working on inviting diners to lunch. He says that Loro’s Dallas location has unique menu options as well as happy hour specials to encourage early arrival.
Loro isn’t Uchi’s neo-traditional Japanese brilliance, nor is it Franklin’s benchmark barbecue excellence. What Loro makes confidently is mixing Pan-Asian influences with Central Texas-style barbecue without the budget price tag from Uchi or the hour-long wait from Franklin. Most importantly, Loro’s combination of sumptuous cuisine and a beautiful venue shows respect – for the food, for the guests, and for the cultures that inspire it.
Loro, 1812 N. Haskell Ave., 11 a.m. – 10 p.m. Sunday-Thursday, 11 a.m.-11 p.m. Friday-Saturday
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