Today's Shitshow Review is brought to you by Eater contributor and comedian Max Silvestri.
[Krieger, 7/20/08]
Kurve is stupid looking. Really stupid looking. It's pink, and kurvey, and all the furniture looks like oversized kids furniture, in the way that it's plastic and doesn't have any sharp corners and seems like it could be easily cleaned with a hose.
Strangely, one of the bar area tables was covered with tea lights, everywhere. I'd be worried that if you put your drink down among them you might end up accidentally picking up a candle and chugging hot wax. (Though that doesn't sound fun, according to an episode of The Simpsons it is a great way to dull the burn of a hot pepper, so maybe Kurve is just providing a makeshift first aid kit for diners. Or maybe not.)
I read somewhere that Kurve was going to have cameras in the bar that fed live video installations between the banquettes, but the night I was there all the TVs were just playing a DVD of Winnie the Pooh. Trippy! It's like a college party. Maybe if you press play on Winnie the Pooh exactly as the electronic music starts, it matches up perfectly. "Like, there's this one part where Winnie is trying to eat some honey and just as he gets it the music goes 'untz untz boom tsk.' It's so perfect it's eerie!"
I tried to ask the DJ about it, but the DJ booth in the bathrooms was unmanned. Also, the DJ booth is in the bathrooms. Are we supposed to do a quick set while we wait to make water? I am kidding, there were not enough people here on a Saturday night to have to wait for a toilet. Speaking of toilets, why so tiny, toilet? Do you belong on an airplane? When I flush you, do you dump blue waste liquid somewhere over the Midwest? I hope so.
I'd love to say that all this silliness continued on to the food and the service, but it didn't. Both were good! Arguably better than good! Our waiter, who had a sharp bowtie with a less sharp little punk-rock metal stud around the knot, along with a manager, expertly guided us to the better choices on the menu. We tried to order "Thai nachos," for the joke, but the waiter took a firm hand. "Yeah, they are like dried shrimp, kinda like chips." Well, what is on them? "Um, chicken, other stuff. Look, they aren't my favorite."
And as delicious as dried shrimp covered with chicken sounded, we were right to listen to him and have the Peking Duck spring rolls and the curry puff thing. They tasted good and were easy to eat, two qualities I enjoy in my appetizers. For entrees we shared a Thai standard, drunken noodles with beef, and a crispy duck with peanut gravy. I asked for the duck medium rare, and the manager seemed almost excited to be able to cook it for me that way, which they did, perfectly. The drunken noodles were a step above your corner Thai place's, and not really any more expensive.
My girlfriend and I liked the drinks, but hers had a giant movie theater straw in an already too-tall glass, and mine had a metal straw, which I know is a trend, but it makes me feel like I am getting my temperature taken. (I drink cocktails with my butt.)
So, yeah. The check wasn't too high and the food was good. It's maybe too embarrassing to sit inside of, especially if you are seated next to a brain-dead spraytan couple IM'ing on their Blackberries the entire meal without once making eye contact with each other, which we were, but if I lived near Kurve, I'd get it to take out, often. But I don't, so I won't. I am just saying. Shitshow? Not really.
—Max Silvestri
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