Tucked just a sharp left turn away down Reservoir St. is a food truck so delicious, I am convinced their obscure lot serves as a deterrent against the hordes of college students which would storm their truck daily, were they in a more central location.
On the morning of my visit I was the first customer of the day, having pulled into the spacious lot just a few minutes after Kangnam Style opened for business a 11:30 a.m.
The unassuming red trailer was identifiable as an eatery only by the black-lettered name and laminated photos of entree options which hung by the “Order Here” window. As the sun started to come out, what I assumed would be a stop for fast food to eat shivering in my car turned into a solitary picnic at one of the tables which were set up behind the trailer. When my order was ready and wrapped up for me, I returned to my seat and pulled the first steaming styrofoam package from the carryout bag, which thanked me profusely in red lettering.
Box number one: the Hosi fries. They had the delicate sort of spice that tickles your nasal cavity. As I pondered the meaning of “Hosi,” (was it barbecue sauce? Hoisin, maybe?) I found it impossible to cease in stabbing the soft and vibrant orange, generously coated, sticky crinkle-cut fries. I was digging my white plastic fork back into the box again even before having swallowed the previous bite. The sweet heat caught up with me after the tenth consecutive fork-full, but a Sprite palette cleanser left me fully prepared to entertain the next course: shrimp fried rice.
An over-medium egg rested atop a mound of rice, sautéed with corn, green beans, carrots, spinach, peas, and bite sized, chopped-up shrimp. The vegetables were all cut into manageable pieces, save for the green beans, which, at an inch long, were the largest component of the dish.
This made it far easier to fill my spoon as much as possible, without oversized hunks of shrimp or carrot falling from my utensil, thus slowing my ardent shoveling. My egg’s yolk was slightly gooey, nearly neon orange, leaning towards the fluff of one over-hard. With only one egg to portion among the massive sautée, I rationed my precious yolk and shrimp: one protein per spoonful, please.
Unsurprisingly, I was incapable of finishing both hefty portions in one sitting, and the next day I popped my Hosi fries into the oven in a little aluminium foil packet (to maintain the sauce’s integrity) and microwaved a massive bowl of leftover fried rice.
For $15.50, pop included, Kangnam Style gave me two meals worth of authentic, delicious Korean cooking. Though I’m grateful for the leftovers, next time I’ll be certain to bring a friend.
Kangnam Style is located off of MLK Jr. Way, at 1006 Reservoir St., just a short drive from campus, and is open 11:30 a.m. to 7 p.m. every day but Sunday.
