Lucky Peach Skill Crane

The WSJ  follows Platt's suit with the 1-and-done approach to reviewing Ko. Metadiscursive grumbling about how reading about eating in NY means being tits-deep in Ko hype at all times only adds to the level of buzz, I suppose, but a few observations:
-The reservation system continues to dominate the conversation about the restaurant in a variety of ways:
1) Most obviously, it is forcing critics into reviews based on a single visit. Ironically, when the restaurateurs/fishwrap types Bissinger food bloggers, this is a common complaint. So, to  Platt, Tan, I say "gabba-gabba."
2) In this and other ways, the reservation system seems to be the tail that is wagging the dog. I love Chang's food,, but as it stands, Chang practically could have Escoffier, Careme, and Raekwon in the kitchen, or all the meals could be coming out the back end of a Dachshund, for as much as we've heard about the food, as opposed to the reservation system.
3) Tan observes:

The restaurant offers a prix fixe menu with no choices, other than an inquiry at the beginning about food allergies. Further, just over a month after its opening, the roster of its few regular dishes has largely remained the same -- and has been breathlessly documented by amateur bloggers and Gourmet magazine's Ruth Reichl alike. Getting through the meal can feel a little like dating the guy who's already gone out with the entire cheerleading squad.

I have no idea what the thing about the cheerleaders means (college or pro?), but its hard not to wonder if the pressure to change the menu is less, when Chang can count on fewer repeat customers than would be customary with a regular restaurant. Conversely, it would be a challenge for Chang to face diners who do not want to eat what they read about, but to eat something they can write about, and thus the level of hype, for Tan, produces an inevitable letdown:

"....it can be hard to shake off the feeling of, "Oh yes, there are those lychees in Riesling gelee, topped with frozen foie gras shavings that all these others have had."

Welcome to the desert of the real, girlfriend.
Finally,

That (being called by table number) gets to the root of what's lacking in the Ko dining experience: By making the reservation such a prize to get, you want to feel, at the end of the evening, that you've truly won something, that you've sprinted across a finish line far ahead of anyone else. Don't get me wrong -- the food's well-worth the trek. But, having endured failure morning after morning, you arrive wanting a bear hug, a sympathetic squeeze of the hand -- a Momofuku tchotchke, perhaps -- just some acknowledgement of the hardships you've endured to get there.

I would love to see whom Chang would hire as the designated Ko bear hugger (Authentic vintage LES junkie? Tranny sumo wrestler? George Atterbury?), but the desire for the "hardship" of getting there led me to a radical remimagination of the Ko concept. Instead of the online system, have a skill crane in Momofuku or Ssam, with the usual random assortment of fuzzy dice and lopsided dolphins, but include the requisite number of plush lucky peaches, each with a reservation date and time embroidered on the side. There's the tchotchke, and a new way to fill the seats with the people willing to sacrifice the most to eat there.