BY MEG VAN HUYGEN for WEEKLY VOLCANO 5/8/26 |
Once, there was this teriyaki joint by my boyfriend’s house. It was just okay, and it was only open one day on the weekends, and it closed kinda early when it was open. We went there like twice. Pretty mediocre food. Then it closed.
Wait. Back up.
Once, there was this incredible place called Rolls by my boyfriend’s house, and they made Korean food into gigantic burritos, and we loved it. Then it closed abruptly, and then it turned into that mediocre teriyaqueria. Then it closed. We loved Rolls and were sad.
Okay. Back to present day. A few weeks ago, as we were driving past the building in question, there was a “New Owners!” banner outside. The old name, Mimi Teriyaki #2, was still on the sign. As we waited at the intersection, a guy with a tray waved at us through the passenger-side window. “Garlic chicken? It’s delicious!”
Hell yeah, we love delicious things. He gave us two little cuppy cups of sauce with a grilled chicken chunk apiece, the garlicky smell coming off them in nearly visible waves. Whew, this man did not lie. Once we got to where we were going, we both drank every drop of the remaining sauce like it was Pepsi-Cola.
Good lord. What divine alchemy is going on here? We came in for more chicken the very next day. In the parking lot, there were two banners with messages in foot-high letters: “Come eat here or we both starve,” and “Sorry in advance for our chicken katsu addiction.”
Damn. Fascinating strategy. This is some Don Draper-level shit right here. Mimi Teriyaki #2 was sold to Sujin and David in early 2026, and with some updated Korean-influenced recipes and a dynamically clever marketing angle, they’ve turned this normal takeout restaurant into a real social media sensation. Chef David clearly knows what he’s doing, both behind the grill and behind the ’Gram. Right off the bat, he was posting wacky videos with internet meme themes on IG and had rechristened the previously normcore names of his dishes to things like Hot Chick, Gangnam Style, Holy Cauli, and Garlic AF, the bite that started it all.
Despite the restaurant’s name, the menu was really pushing the katsu, not teriyaki. My guy took the hint and ordered the Nashville Firebird, a spicy fried chicken sandwich on a buttered bun, dressed with cabbage, pickle, tomato, American cheese, and a housemade chipotle mayonnaise. I went for the Moo-licious plate, because when I see short rib on a menu, I get it.
The sando was done in the traditional Nashville hot chicken style, and it was pretty damn spicy. It satisfied Stephen’s very capsaicin-demanding palate, anyhow. The man requires very spicy food, and this thing did the trick. This is a monster sandwich for only eight bucks, and you can add fries for $3 more, which he did. We got a bit of the chipotle mayo for dipping fries, which boosted the experience, but they’re perfectly good fries without it.
My short rib meal was similarly massive. Teriyaki enjoyers have the option of a bowl with the teriyaki-ed protein alongside either rice or cabbage salad for $11, or you can get the $18 plate option, which comes with the aforesaid items, plus your choice of two sides. I was dazzled by this. From the spread of classic green salad with sesame dressing, pickled cucumber (sunomono) salad, Hawaiian-style macaroni salad, shredded cabbage salad, edamame salad, sea-salted edamame, or stir-fried green beans, I picked the green beans and cucumbers. I was especially delighted by the green beans, lightly wok-fried and sauced with a touch of soy. The barely there pickle on the cucumbers was just rice vinegar, simple and refreshing.
I was even more delighted, though, by the Moo-licious short rib itself. Ignore the line in the menu about it being just garden-variety “beef,” by the way. It is luscious, decadent short rib, and a ton of it, sautéed with jalapeño bits and a whole sliced onion that soaks up all the teriyaki sauce and unctuous rendered meat fat. The leftover rice, soaked with the fat, sauce, chiles, and luxurious sautéed oniony business, was an indulgent entrée by itself.
Stephen and I are both big, tall, hungry people, and we both tapped out around the midpoint and took the rest of our meals home for lunch the next day. Even if the food wasn’t baller, the value still would be, especially that fried chicken sandwich. I would pay $30 for that short rib plate, to be honest. I don’t want to, but I would.
Our second trip was days later, and I got the katsu chicken, with Japanese-style curry sauce poured over the top. A pretty classic rendition, nicely spiced. Once again, I got through half of it, then looked forward to the lunchtime leftovers all day at work. Spicy Stephen had the Hot Chick, a fiery, gochujang-accented rendition of the standard grilled chicken teriyaki, a little sweet, not too hot. He destroyed the leftovers around midnight, declaring them the best thing he’s eaten all year.
Co-owner Su says that she and Chef David also own Tori Sake in Burien, a sushi-ya, and they’re pouring everything into their newest business, now that the first restaurant is operating smoothly. Su and David are both a friendly, fun addition to the neighborhood, and they both already seem to have their customers’ names memorized. Su says they’re doing well so far. The parking lot is usually packed, if that’s any indication. They’re also open on Sundays, unlike the last incarnation of Mimi Teriyaki #2.
Mimi Teriyaki #1 still exists, incidentally, but it’s not owned by David and Su. It’s at 19th and MLK, and I haven’t been and don’t know if it’s good. The menu is substantially different, although they do serve teriyaki. Logic dictates that it’s probably fine. Just different owners is all.
I will admit that the very Instagrammable marketing is kitschy and can understand if certain types want to shy away from that. But these folks undeniably have the chops to back it up. The only thing they could do to please me more is put their food in a burrito, à la Rolls.
I write about restaurants for a living and go to a bunch of them every week, and all month long, my brain has been pulling this memory out of the file cabinet and showing it to me again. “Remember that incredible short rib with the beef fat onions? And the delicate, not-too-sweet sauce, and the stir-fried green beans that were still a little crunchy? And the lovely cucumber salad with the sesame seeds and the dab of sesame oil on top?” Oh god, yes. Where did we have that, brain? Which Michelin-trained chef served this to us at their James Beard Award-winning fine diner?
Oh, no. That was the little teriyaki joint by Stephen’s house. Mimi Teriyaki #2. Don’t forget the #2.
