Little Brother’s

Photo: Martha Williams

The world doesn’t need another Panda Express, and from the outside, that’s all Little Brother’s seems to amount to. That may be why on a recent Saturday evening the place was nearly empty: Even if people walked into the cheerful space, the formulaic, Korean-tinged menu (diners are asked to pick a protein, a sauce, and a salad to go on the side) may have sent them walking right out. The fact that everything is served in a three-compartment Styrofoam box probably doesn’t help.

But here’s the thing: Little Brother’s isn’t fast. It’s not slow, but everything is cooked to order, which takes a few minutes. And when they arrive, both the short ribs and the chicken are lean and tender. The crunchy coleslaw sports enticing whispers of wasabi, and the cucumber salad is a refreshing foil to the crisp tofu. In short, it tastes like there’s a real chef in the kitchen. And that’s because there is. Chef/owner Christian Oh left his job in finance to attend CHIC. After graduating, he set off for Korea, where he learned how to prepare everything in the restaurant-, from the daily rotation of flavored lemonades (mango, cherry, etc.) to sauces like the mild “Sweet Chil-antro” and the slow-to-burn “Raging Bul.” He could probably save both time and money by serving mass-produced teriyaki sauce. But it wouldn’t have half the nuance of his version. Besides, if he did, this would be just like every other Pan-Asian fast-food joint in the city, and then he wouldn’t be able to attract the customers he deserves—that is, customers who can tell the difference.