November 1, 2018

Boston Globe


Fuku, a peach-and-green-hued chicken wonderland in the Seaport

Where to Fuku, an all-the-rage poultry parlor from Momofuku founder David Chang and his team. The group’s home base is New York City — Ko, Milk Bar, Nishi — though Chang, who also appears in Netflix’s “Ugly Delicious” culinary exploration series, now has restaurants all over the world.

What for The spicy fried chicken sandwiches and cheese fries that make New Yorkers swoon, plus macaroni salad, slushies, and squash rings.

The scene Bright, busy, and reverberating with the sounds of the Beastie Boys and Elvis Presley. Fuku is in a staid steely complex near Sweetgreen and Equinox, but step inside, and you’re transported to a peach-and-green-hued chicken wonderland, with a wall-sized mural of enormous pink hands grabbing a sandwich. Order at a counter with mounted TV screens touting volcano fries; wait for your meal and watch slushies whir beneath them. Peach motifs abound. (“Momofuku” means “lucky peach” in Japanese.)

What you’re eating Fried chicken made with dark meat, encased in a crisp, beige capsule. Most people get sandwiches ($8 and up) served on squishy potato rolls. Boston has its own sandwich — the BOS — slicked with a spicy glaze and drenched in ranch. Or make your own creation, with toppings including neon yellow spicy cheese sauce, knockout sauce (a tangy Thousand Island-like condiment), spicy cucumbers, and carrot slaw. Loaded fries ($7) are splotched with that neon yellow cheese, ranch, a shower of scallions — and bacon, if you please. Volcano fries ($20) are mountainous, fortified with fried chicken, cheese, ranch, and, yes, bacon. Healthier eaters can get spinach or kale salad, with or without griddled chicken bites or thighs.

Care for a drink? Order a strawberry lemonade or blood orange slushie, or slide over to a line of burbling sweet peach and oolong iced tea tanks.

Overheard Hot sauce braggadocio; start-up swagger. Two men stand at the counter, contemplating their next move. “We keep hot sauces in our office, in a little cabinet,” one says. “My fridge is crammed with sauces!” says his mate. Two more men (there are a lot of men here) chat about start-ups. “I have so much equity. I’m just going to sell my stock and make a ton of money,” one says. A well-coiffed gent in a long tan overcoat sits at the window-front counter and devours fries, oblivious in his pleasure, a GQ version of an Edward Hopper painting.

43 Northern Ave., Seaport, Boston

By Kara Baskin

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