Victor H.
Yelp
There's something I have to tell you. When I think of anything Vegan, I think of communes and leg hair and parents who give their children names like 'Harmony' and 'Apocalypse' and 'Myocardial Infarction.' I'm not sure why, and I know it doesn't reflect anything more than ignorance on my part. So in an effort to better understand what I don't know, and because I was told there would be free food, I went to check out the new Sipz at 3614 30th Street on Friday night which is now reimagined as the Rising Sun Collective: Japanese Bites, Brews, and Bakery and is a standout among the many cookie cutter bars and breweries that overwhelm 30th in a never-ending bid to suck up as many Millennial dollars as humanly possible in the shortest amount of time available.
Now, I realize that reviewing a restaurant that just opened up doesn't give them a fighting chance since most restaurants need time to iron out the kinks, find their pace, etc. (And why I will definitely follow up.) So I am only going to mention a few things that stood out to me and made an impression. First things first. I ordered the Kimchi Gyoza as a starter followed by the Drunken Noodles with vegetables in a 'light sauce,' with "chicken." You'll notice there are full quotes around the chicken because on vegan menus, there can be no mistaking.
"Chicken" aside, the noodles were a rich, generously-sized bath of silken noodles and vegetables. If your tastes run less on the protein-in-quotes side, flip the menu over and there you have it; you can order chicken and not wonder if you're eating something from a petri dish or this weirdly orange-colored french fry of sorts that I found in my dish and was advised by one of the very enthusiastic servers that "it takes just like chicken." Well, I suppose what tastes like chicken is not in the eye of the chicken. But to me, it tasted weirdly generic; it had this satisfyingly crunchy and well-seasoned outer layer, but the insides tasted like a what a lipid might taste like if lipids tasted like chicken.
The Kimchi Gyoza were terrific but not at all what I expected. The center was a finely minced filling of the famed probiotic minus all of that vinegary acidity that people associate with fermented napa cabbage. Which is unfortunate because that was exactly what I wanted. I was anxious to try dunking a kimchi original in the Rising Sun Collective's lush version of potsticker sauce. But that's OK. There are plenty of other items on the menu. And as Stu, one of the owners told me, they plan on building up a Japanese pastry shop as part of their collective 'vision.' I actually look forward to that and hope to return to add my thoughts.
There are some beers, ciders, and seltzers (a few of which are the only ones to be found in the neighborhood I was told, but have not verified) but the beer selection was just OK and the sake list was necrotic, especially given the fact that Saiko Sushi, with its extensive sake list, is just around the corner.
The space, as best as I can recall, hasn't changed much. It has that Japanese minimalist look circa 1986. But ambience counts so I'm hoping the team behind their reinvention will find new and interesting ways to use the space that they have.
I don't want to give you the wrong impression. I had a good time. And the food was really good. And, thank you, Stu for your generosity. But five stars? Not yet. But I have all the confidence in the world that that five-stars will be the general consensus on the Rising Sun Collective.