I really didn’t plan to wind up back on Northwest Expressway—especially after all the naysaying I’ve done about its low standards and high prices—but here I am again, bib in hand, calling a truce. What brought me back wasn’t a new half-hearted fusion spot or even another visit to the splendid Dulce Vida up the street. It was something I hadn’t seen before – an Asian seafood boil.
I had to try it.
Since my first real crawfish feast down in Louisiana this past spring, I’ve been obsessed with boils—the spices, the steam, the strange communal beauty of it all. So when readers started whispering about a new place called SAT Asian Seafood & Bar, 4243 Northwest Expressway, I had to find out if an Oklahoma City take on the boil—filtered through an Asian flavor lens—could satisfy my craving for all things mud-buggery.
Built on the ruins of an old haunted Red Lobster franchise (surely you remember that, don’t you?), we gingerly walked in early one afternoon last week. With the giant-sized demonic crab in the entrance and the sweet soul music playing in the backdrop, we were really ready to try this distinctly non-corporate seafood restaurant.
Once our server seated us and brought out a couple of iced teas ($3.00), I realized SAT looked like one of these “cook-in-the-bag” situations—my favorite! With many options like the Golden Phoenix Combo with snow crab and lobster or the extravagant King Crab boil with Dungeness Clusters, in the end, we decided on the signature-sounding SAT Combo ($38.95).
But, before we got to that steaming combination, first we engaged in some light appetizers, trying out their Cajun BBQ Shrimp ($9.95). It included eight large shrimps that are lightly battered and fried to a golden hue, sprinkled with a Cajun seasoning, and served with a hickory BBQ sauce to dip.
Now, to be fair, I never thought that spicy BBQ sauce and golden-fried shrimp would be good playmates, but, in this case, I was totally wrong—the pairing is remarkably daring! The not-overly sweet, yet not-too tangy sauce was a definite winner with the jumbo shrimp, making this an appetizer for the ages.
Soon enough, all eight shrimps were done.
Within mere moments, though, we were presented with a steel bucket, complex tools, plastic gloves, and the pièce de résistance, a puffed-up cellophane bag that, though fogged by the steamy contents, meant that something special was going to happen.
With the crab-inspired bib around my neck, our server slashed open the SAT Combo bag and, as the murky steam rose to a fine watery mist, its beautiful bounty of five snow crab legs, numerous unpeeled shrimp, two potatoes, two ears of corn, and two hard-boiled eggs presented itself to us.
The smell hit first—garlic, butter, and a flash of chili in a burst of steam that whispered more of Bangkok than Baton Rouge.
Digging in, of course I was going for one of the snow crab legs to start. At first, it took a lot of bending, cracking and scraping, but soon enough, that meat was between my gloved fingers and slowly brought to my quivering lips and waiting tongue.
Back in Louisiana, the boils were busy and rowdy—with all the reverence of a seafood sermon. Here, the flavor hit differently: sharper, cleaner, maybe even a little more… deliberate.
It was truly remarkable, as the salty spice on my fingertips melded with the long, white meat of the crab that took me to pleasures unknown. I shared the allotted portion with my wife, sucking out every morsel in the legs and then some.
Taking a labor break with some corn on the cob and boiled potatoes, I next had to dig into this seasoned shrimp. As I peeled the shells carefully and thoughtfully, the sweet moisture of the pink shrimp made that an easier task than I had previously thought.
Once six or seven were done and ready to orally embrace, I popped them into my mouth, one by one, and it was truly one of my best experiences with shrimp! The soaking brew of butter, spice, and gumption made them the pearl of the seas, if I may be so bold.
Indulging in another juicy crab leg, I felt truly satisfied as the core remnants of my impassioned dinner were placed in the awaiting bucket for refuse. As our waitress was about to take my metal dish, I realized that I had only one last thing to take on: the Asian hard-boiled egg.
With all my waning strength from the thoroughly enjoyed SAT Combo, I took the spice-covered egg, bit into it slowly, methodically, and without reservation, and it exploded in my mouth—little bits of hard yolk escaping from my jowls.
For the first time, I didn’t need dessert. This beautiful, spicy egg was all the dessert I needed today. If Louisiana lit the fire, SAT fanned it. Maybe that’s the trick of the Asian seafood lens—it makes an old boil feel brand new.
Thank you, SAT, and, to be fair, thank you, Northwest Expressway.
Cómpralo ya!
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Follow Louis Fowler on Instagram at @louisfowler78.
