Katsu. It’s not Milanese and it ain’t schnitzel or that Gelson’s chicken tender you grease those shopping-cart-pushing-hands with—it’s katsu. It’s a panko crisp-crust dream with a name derived from the Japanese word katsuetsu, “cutlet.” And as the great Mugatu once said, it’s so hot right now. It’s arguably one of the most-chewed food trends of 2018, having seemingly overtaken Trader Joe’s aisle sensation Everything Seasoning and edible charcoal and cacio e pepe every which way as the new culinary obsession of the moment. And when it comes to katsu, sandwiches reign supreme.
In Los Angeles, options are everywhere—including Tsubaki’s onion-ring-paired happy hour plate and Orsa & Winston’s nori-sprinkled lunchtime treat—but one chef is taking this katsu thing to another level. Only one Asian-sandwich lord has a line out front before doors swing open for business.
Chef Daniel Son is the man behind Katsu Sando, the semi-regular Sunday pop-up that launched in October inside West Hollywood’s surging-into-sushi-greatness Kura, which he succeeded from his parents years ago. The immediate success of Katsu Sando is easy to understand: A talented young chef gets his friends and family together—his sister’s taken every order since it all started—and serves Muenster-stuffed deep-fried chicken; flattened pork; and mushroom sandwiches on house-made, photo-friendly, insignia-singed bread. Most will run you around $10 but there’s also a pupil-popping $70 option that features A5 wagyu chateaubriand, and it’s all served in the shadows of Chateau Marmont as Action Bronson and Tom Misch play overhead.
Photograph: Courtesy Katsu Sando/Jakob N. Layman
Son was born and raised in L.A., and when you’re an Angeleno but your goal is to become a Japanese master, well, then you resolutely train in Japan à la Kill Bill. You leave the family restaurant you started working at when you were 15 and say buh-bye to Wolfgang at Spago, where you trained when you weren’t taking notes from your expert fish-slicing chef father, and you fly that Angeleno ass to Tokyo, Uma Thurman style. And when you fly that Angeleno ass across the Pacific to study the art of Japanese cuisine with the goal of returning home to elevate your family’s business, you’re only there to study and train. Study and train was the name of Son’s game at the Michelin three-starred Nihonryori RyuGin until 4am every night. And when you get off work at 4am in Tokyo, desperate for a nourishing bite before falling asleep and starting all over again, the food he discovered was the katsu sandwich.
Those late-night, sauced-up convenience store crunch sessions made their mark on the husky Korean-American from Los Angeles, a city that would soon learn what this chef had in store for it when he was done killing Bill in Japan and staging in Denmark for a brief stint at Noma. He was ready to get home and take the family sushi business to the next level. Only one problem arose: Once back, Son couldn’t find a katsu sandwich to satiate his spiraling desire for the perfect chemistry of dredged, oil-cooked protein and mayo-based sauces between two slices of sweet, spongy milk bread. So he did something about it.
First, Daniel would have to do something he’d never done before: bake. Milk bread, a soft white bread, only took him three months and 13 recipes to nail. Luckily, the cheese stuffing, deep frying and sauce creations were easier, and once he was pleased with the version of his favorite Japanese late-night treat, and the family’s sushi business was humming thanks to his overseas training, it was only natural that Son introduce Los Angeles to his very own katsu sandwich. By his second Sunday making sandwiches, word and social media posts gushed like the melted cheese from one of his breaded cutlets—and just like that, his weekly pop-up formed a line of diners waiting for a taste.
Inquire about the In-N-Out–inspired off-menu Menchi-Katsu, a deep-fried ground beef burger patty packed with wagyu-fat–sautéed onions. Inquire about chef Son’s homemade gochu hot sauce. Inquire about not stuffing your katsu with cheese if dairy isn’t your thing. Inquire about when Katsu Sando will be available all week long if Sunday nights simply don’t work, because more days are coming. And so is Daniel Son.
Katsu Sando’s doors open at 6pm most Sunday nights inside Kura, located at 8162 W Sunset Blvd. Follow @katsu.sando on Instagram for updates.