Restaurant: The Iron Factory

Critic: Brandon Drick

Athens Iron Factory grills up fun, social dinner experience

Hi, my name is Brandon and I have a problem. I can’t stop going to the Iron Factory. I have been to this Athens’ Korean barbeque joint an inexcusable amount of times and my bank account hates me for it. Ever wanted to eat at a place you grow fonder of each time? A place where the high you experience from their delicious food only climbs and leaves you craving that next visit? I feel like a junkie getting the shakes for his next fix and I’ll probably end up selling drugs to other junkies to afford my next meal there. The food might not be totally traditional, but I don’t care. I daydream about their velvety mushrooms and rich, smoky pork belly. Sharing a grill at the table is an added bonus and an extra flare to dinners with your peers. It has its flaws, but nobody’s perfect and I have fallen in love with this place. 

The Iron Factory’s atmosphere doesn’t boast. It’s humble, dimly lit and doesn’t throw anything in your face. The coal-black dining tables sit with their beaming heat lamps above them. It’s a hibachi place, with a grill in the center of each table where your server cooks up your food. There’s a familiar coziness about it which makes it all the more inviting and greater for sharing. If it’s the first time a friend or family member is visiting me, we go to the Iron Factory. This time around, my dad was visiting from Italy and had never had dinner in Athens before. My sister was also in town for her birthday. Standards were high and introducing the Iron Factory to your folks is like trying to introduce an erratic significant other: you love them, but there’s a threat of the unexpected.  

The heart of the Iron Factory is with the servers. Iron Factory servers can really toy with the emotional experience you have. You never know what kind of server you will get and it impacts the overall experience. Given how they have to grill the food in front of you, you roll the dice on whether a server will engage in conversation or stand in awkward silence. I fondly remember many Iron Factory servers and the talks we had. There was a former manager helping out during one of the nights we visited who told stories about trying to teach his kids how to cook as soon as they could hold a spoon. Another talked about frequently seeing R.E.M.’s Michael Stipe at Church Bar and being too nervous to approach him. Usually, these conversations contribute a lot to what makes the Iron Factory memorable.

Unfortunately, the odds were not in our favor this visit. Our server vanished after only laying some veggies on the grill and was replaced by someone else. Neither of them was very talkative and my table idly made uncomfortable conversation while we waited for the food to cook. I usually sympathize with a server’s hectic workflow, but I became skeptical as I looked around and saw that they only had one other table. 

Despite that oddity, I hoped my family would see that the climb to Iron Factory enlightenment is an arduous but worthwhile one. You start with the choice of a soup (miso or tofu) or salad (with ginger or ranch dressing). The salad is a boring saucer of lettuce with dressing and the soup is best enjoyed by those who like the taste of warm salty water. You aren’t coming to the Iron Factory for that though, and these come with your entrée anyway so there’s no need to panic. The entrées are the highlight of the experience. I shamelessly ordered the same thing I always get: assorted mushrooms of king, portobello, button and Inoki. There were plenty of other options available though and we ended up having spiced chicken, pork belly and bulgogi steak for the table. On top of that, we got an assortment of veggies such as kimchi, spicy bean sprouts, lettuce, jalapenos and sliced beets. You also get teriyaki sauce and a creamy pineapple sauce. It’s all complementary and leaves ample room for customizing your bites. Everything was juicy and bursting with flavor. The bulgogi was tender and sweet and the pork belly tasted like a fat piece of bacon. Everyone shared everything and explored the different flavors and it was all still amazing after many previous ventures. I was often caught in splendor, embarrassing the rest of the table as I colorfully exclaimed how good the food was. “Holy shit this is good!” was a popular remark.  

When we finished, my dad exclaimed “satsia!” It’s an Italian phrase for being pleasantly full and it really is the perfect word. The portions are generous but not enough to warrant having to be wheeled out of the restaurant. But it also reflects on how satisfying the Iron Factory is. Even with a subpar serving experience, we still managed to have a fun time experimenting with different flavors as we stuffed ourselves. It still manages to be exciting after multiple visits, despite the flaws it has. Its charms will keep me coming back, whether I can afford it or not.