K + K kind of a krappy experience

A 300-pound bouncer at a restaurant door? Alongside a red carpet and a velvet rope?

Is this Merkette in New York’s Chelsea?

Nope, it’s the new Kitchen + Kocktails, replacing Del Frisco’s Grille at 225 S. Broad, which had been my go-to place for lunch.

K + K is no-go.

The bouncer wanted to know if I had a reservation. Is this Studio 54, once upon a time NYC’s hottest disco?

I had, made earlier in the day, when I slipped by him and was greeted with a warm “Welcome home,” by strikingly beautiful Madison at the podium. (Am I allowed to comment on women’s appearance? Yes, as long as it's positive.) The “welcome home” is how all patrons are greeted. If I am “home,” will I be charged for food?, I thought. A little gimmicky, but harmless.

To check out the new place, I brought along my friend Chris, who’s had more restaurants than I’ve had wives.

Having cleared security — perhaps made necessary by the fact that the restaurant has been sold out since it opened  — we were seated. K + K was four days old, and packed. And because it was packed, it was noisy. I asked around and was told it uses social media massively, successfully, to drive business. 

Del Frisco’s interior was beautiful and K + K owner Kevin Kelley wasted no money on unnecessary improvements. Aside from K + K neon signage, the only change we noticed was round tables replacing square tables in the entrance seating area, and those tables covered with formal white tablecloths, a little discordant with K + K’s signature Southern comfort, soul food. 

The  huge windows overlooking Broad were covered with art promoting the restaurant, so diners can’t see out, and people outside (standing in line?) can’t see in.

Once seated, we waited for menus. After a bit, our server asked if we had used the QR code imprinted on a Lucite block seated in the middle of the table.

No, we had not even noticed that.

We were told we could access the menu that way.

“Do you have printed menus?” I asked.

No.

Another gimmick, trying to be QR hip.

What’s the problem with that?

Aside from being a pain in the ass?

First, the menu viewed through a cell phone only shows a few items at a time, and you can’t quickly scan from appetizers to entrees and back. Second, the type is also small, and difficult for people of (ahem) a certain age.

The restaurant’s logo is a rooster, for some reason. Maybe it’s the cock in kocktails. (The “k” being another gimmick, but I have learned K + K is very big on craft cocktails.) A little online research told me Kelley had lived in Paris for a while, and the rooster is the symbol of Paris.

As expected, the menu contains a lot of fried food, most of it is not designed for anyone on a diet. But, OK, it is what it is, and Kelley, an African-American entrepreneur, is expanding his chain. Something is clicking here.

Something is also clunking here.

Such as including the gratuity charge (20%) on the bill without notifying the patron, which is a deadly sin in restaurateur Chris’ book. Including a service charge is very rare in Philly, and many patrons won’t look for it, and may double tip.

I very much enjoyed the stuffed salmon over dirty rice ($39) while Chris went full soul with the pork chops ($23), which he found too dry. When ordering, the server asked what sides he wanted with that. Chris again went all soul with candied yams (excellent) and collard greens (OK). We were shocked to find them on the bill as $13 and $15. 

The sides were a la carte, which was not mentioned by our pleasant server and was pretty difficult to discern on the hard-to-read QR menu. On a big printed menu, such as other white-tablecloth restaurants like Capital Grille, and Rittenhouse Grill, the menus clearly state the charges for side dishes.

Not to make too big a deal out of it, but I ordered tap water and was charged $12 for Aqua Panna. I didn’t notice that until I got home.

With two glasses of wine, the tab was $176.79.

I can afford it, sure, that’s not the point.

Thinking of the logo, I left feeling somewhat cuckolded.