Shukette

How did chef Ayesha Nurdjaja follow up to her wildly popular Shuka? With another banger like Shukette. At her Chelsea locale, Nurdjaja lets it rip, speed running through the Levantine region with an excellent spread of, er, spreads with all the charred and puffed breads to sop it up with. The sizzles of the charcoal fire and smoke remixed with a playlist of Janet and Jackson and T-Pain wafting through the room, only adds to the energy of it all. Some may call it loud. Rather, I'd call it lively, vibrant and simply just part of the exciting delight that is visiting Shukette. 

The vibe: You wouldn't guess Shukette has been around for almost five years, as any given day mimics the buzz of opening night. Even a casual weekday visit spawns groups of folks patiently waiting by the hostess stand, eyeing tables inside the sidewalk dining shed and on the purple patio that wraps around the back. But to truly get the full Shukette experience is to be at the counter or at one of the booths that line the back, really anything close to the magnetic energy of the charcoal grill and the chefs who tease dishes from its fire.

The food: Ripping and dipping is part of the calling card of Shukette. Pick one (or many) of Nurdjaja's housemade breads, such as the puffed frena with charred pockets and golden garlic cloves to mash in, or the grilled lafa, slick in a greenish garlicky butter. Use them to swoosh through thick swirls of labneh that hold macerated strawberries and pickled pops of fennel in its valleys and smoky Arctic char tamped down with dill, parsley and a strong squeeze of lemon. But Nurdjaja also knows her way around a vegetable, as her Shukette cherries (a dish that's come back around every year since day one) with a simple prep of cilantro, serrano and lime, hit those memorable notes of heat and sweet.

As for the mains, the fish in a cage presentation is impressive as it is explanatory—a whole porgy comes to the table, blackened and charred in the metal cage that it's cooked in, finished with a swipe of chermoula. But the struggle is finding enough meat to drag through the lively and spicy bang bang shata sauce before it falls through the grate. The stubby little fingers of the adana kebab, made with a mixture of beef and lamb, were tender, cooked nicely and had a nice pool of tzatziki to drag them through, though, it leaned a touch too sweet. 

The drinks: Shukette doesn't have a liquor license, but it doesn't need one. Instead, they have an extensive selection of wines by the glass or the bottle and gazoz cocktails (named after a Turkish drink) that mix soda water and bubbles with sherry and vermouths. The Garden will make you feel like you are walking through the field on a summer's day with a fresh slice of cucumber curled in the glass and a touch of sweetness from the fino sherry.

Time Out tip: No matter what, a meal at Shukette should always end with the soft serve. The Swirl is a fine choice as it always comes with the nutty tahini soft serve accompanied by whatever is in season. For my last visit, I was greeted with a nice and sweet strawberry coated with herby bits of candied cracked coriander and dukkah.