King Tut’s Grill is only an eight-minute drive from campus, but it feels worlds away.
The tiny restaurant, which seats maybe 40, is tucked away in a suburban area of South Knoxville, and if your eyes aren’t peeled on the left side of Martin Mill Pike, you’ll drive right past it. Despite its seeming ability to be invisible, King Tut’s has acquired somewhat of a cult following.
“King Tut’s has gained such a cult following with college students because the whole experience basically begs you to let loose,” Sierra Jensen, senior architecture student, said. “You walk into an environment where you’re asked to bring your own alcohol, dance and sing karaoke with your friends, as well as complete strangers and eat endless amounts of shareable food.”
After hearing multiple other positive reviews, Daily Beacon Design Editor Katrina Roberts and I set out to experience what we assumed would be an interesting dining experience.
We’ve both tasted hummus, and I’ve been served grape leaves and baba ghanoush by an Egyptian friend. Yet, the idea of eating in an eccentric restaurant where the owners are Egyptian intrigued us. So, we tried it.
Bumper stickers, newspaper clippings, award placards, paintings of Jesus, snarky posters, hieroglyphic art and other eclectic bits of paper cover the four walls, leaving little white space. Above each booth is a low-hanging lamp, which could easily be dangerous if you’re too tall and trying to lean across the table.
Seham Girgis, who opened the restaurant with her husband Monir, greeted us with menus and offered glasses for the bubbly we brought with us. Side note: champagne was not the intended drink but an oversight in the liquor store on both the attendant’s and our parts.
Word on the street is that the Greek salad and Egyptian sampler platter are King Tut’s claim to fame, so Roberts and I decided to stick with that. While waiting for Girgis to return to take our orders, we awkwardly tried to open the champagne without making a commotion. It took some elbow grease and grimacing faces, but that bottle did not make a sound when we finally popped it open.
We filled the wait for our salad by speculating on the origins of such a curious restaurant and ignoring the rumbling sounds coming from our stomachs. With wide eyes, I watched Girgis make her way from the kitchen towards our table holding a salad the size of her head. The massive bed of lettuce is topped with tomato slices, hard boiled eggs, kalamata olives and a peperoncini. All of which is covered in fresh, salty feta.
As we enjoyed each bite of Greek-goodness, a party of 20-something-year-olds filed in and quickly filled the restaurant with boisterous chatting and laughter. The birthday girl plugged her iPhone into the speaker system and changed the music from ’90s hits to Jay-Z and Beyonce, creating an even more unexpected vibe.
“This whole place is just one giant odd juxtaposition,” Roberts said.
By the time we finished the Greek salad, Girgis’ daughter, Christina, had arrived to help with the front of the house duties. She cleared our plates and promised the sampler would be out shortly.
The Egyptian sampler offers a taste of seven dishes, some better than others, and slivers of pita for dipping.
- Kushari: a warm dish of rice, lentils, pasta wheels, tomatoes and garlic
- Hummus: a garbanzo bean dip topped with bright, fresh olive oil
- Baba ghanoush: cooked eggplant mixed with parsley, another dip
- Grape leaves: like a tiny burrito, grape leaves stuffed with rice, slight citrusy tang
- Egyptian salad: large chunks of tomato, onion, cucumber
- Ful medames: fava beans and onions, the least impressive dish
- Falafel: deep-fried patty made of garbanzo and fava beans. Roberts described it as “the crust of an Egyptian tater tot”
We savored the samples all while the birthday party grew more rambunctious. By the time we bit into our baklava, layers of flaky pastry, honey and nuts, we had come to understand why King Tut’s is a long-standing Knoxville favorite.
King Tut’s Grill is located at 4132 Martin Mill Pike. The Greek salad $9.99, the Egyptian sampler $15.99, Baklava $3.50.
