Down an anonymous alley, just above Ginza, the obsessive line up early to nab a mythical mousse cake – “the best in the world” – one man bakes as many cakes as he feels necessary for the day. He then calls it a day – the freedom of being great. The cake is not guaranteed past eleven so the necessary strategy is arriving early.

Thirty minutes before opening, I was the second person in line; fifteen deep with fifteen minutes to go; and an easy thirty people by opening time – go early – and scout the location out the day before. A five minute speech is rehearsed for the line, in Japanese, before the doors open; presumably “the rules” – including, but not obviously limited to, no photos, six per person, with some cakes only offered for the sit-down cafe. I know those rules – because I tried to break each one.

No time to lounge – Sushi Mizutani was an hour away – grab, go, and devour – which is an injustice to this genius. The line is slow and perplexing as it snakes around the small room. The shopkeepers operate on a 17th century timetable. Sushi Mizutani, twenty minutes away, was ticking closer and closer with each deliberate, and seemingly choreographed, movement involved in packaging the cakes. Greatest cakes, great sushi, little time, and smaller stomach (after the previous night’s Koju meal) – too much anxiety too early in the morning.

The cakes are spectacular, unlike anything I’ve had, every bit worth getting in line early. The texture is ethereal, “as light as air”, and yet, out of that nothingness, potent and vibrant flavors. The flavors are strong but well integrated, more classical than, say, the rock’n'roll stylings of a Pierre Herme. They fulfill that American stereotype of the Japanese – taking something “Western” – and perfecting it.

Eat That Yellow Snow has an obsessive post on Hidemi Sugino, the man, and a thoroughly detailed analysis of the cakes, complete with illustrations and cross-sections of their interiors – the reason we read blogs.

If Tokyo is not in your immediate plans – CaramelCorn, Chubby Hubby, Sweets & The City, & Nordjus’s beautiful blog.

- chuck

This is Rome before the fall – French haute cuisine in its heyday – one man in pursuit of his own perfection – an artisan only serving what he deems worthy of his absolutely high standards – priced accordingly. The Tuesday lunch was filled with many proclamations, some implied, others on proud display – the highest-bidded (200kg+) tuna of the day from Tsukiji, broken down in front of us, to the house-made bottarga – served unadorned, its genius laid bare – its intense briny concentration tremendous. A fair amount of fish available is not served – cut, inspected, re-inspected, and tossed – presumably because it did not meet some internal standard, as it should be in more restaurants across the world.

The cold bowl of uni (origin forgotten) was beyond pristine – look at the picture and its tongue-like surface intact – an extraordinary salvo near the beginning of the meal. That dish alone encapsulated the entire experience – the utmost complexity masquerading as simplicity. Rarely is uni served in a cold brine (in the US, at least) and, yet, why should it be served otherwise?

After the sashimi courses, the sushi comes, piece after piece. It is a story of the sea – to the day – as told through a master story-teller. The chuotoro was the star on this day, combining the luxurious fatty mouthfeel of toro but retaining the strong flavor of the best maguro. If you look carefully at the various nigiri, you’ll see the intricate cuts in most pieces of fish – not unique to Sawada of course – but there are many lessons in those cuts – keys to deciphering the different textures of each fish.

Aged tuna? The previous Sunday’s lunch included the object of black art². Its taste was more intense, somewhat analogous to the difference between regular and dry-aged beef. The color correction in that post is a bit off, as the meat could be mistaken for whale, but the meat does have a darker hue to it. It would probably take many meals, throughout seasons and across species, to get a firm (no pun intended), and factual, handle on different techniques used. (I recall reading that Sushi Yasuda preferred to freeze his tuna as the ice molecules break down the fat and yield a more toro-like texture.) There is a lot of misinformation out there and, presumably, amateur practitioners – the results at a place like Sawada speak for themselves.

Is everything perfect? The rice has been criticized by a few patrons as being vinegar-charged, and overwhelming by the end of the meal. The first meal’s rice was charged but not over-bearing, and I quite liked it. The second meal’s rice was mild by comparison and I missed the vinegar. If nothing else, the rice is not consistent. The rice itself did not attain the perfect symbiosis of fish/rice texture of the magical 1-2 pieces at Mizutani (but not even he could sustain that level of perfection for the majority of the meal.)

We were the only people that day for lunch – one of the world’s top sushi chefs – ours. When was the last time Alain Passard cooked just for you?

Go – it costs as much as any restaurant in Europe but it reaches, and attains, a higher perfection.

- chuck

1 – In Tokyo, this includes Harutaka, Sushiso Masa, and Sushi Mizutani. In the latter, the potential exists but it did not deliver on my single meal. I must still try the infamous Sukiyabashi Jiro and the other three-star – Sushi Saito.

2 – Black art or not, this incredible Gastroville post reveals some rare insight into aging tuna – fresh may not always be best. And another post on speared fish and ike jime. Cooking Issues also has a series of posts on ike jime on their excellent blog.

Despite the reverence for ingredients, eating at Koju is not temple-like; instead, it is fun. Okuda-san is a charming cook – always willing, with a boyish enthusiasm, to explain the food. Engage him and he will pull out books for you – test you – and honor you with treats. Eating at the counter is a must – do not settle for the tatami room (unless you are entertaining a party.)

The food is austere and minimalist and it could be challenging for a first-time visitor to Japan. Much technique is involved in the creation of the food, and its handling, but it does not exhibit the flare and bombastic approach of many Western chefs. Some might say “that’s it?” but the ingredient quality alone, if nothing else, will keep one engaged. Last year, the memories lasted and re-surfaced well over a week later, as I found myself comparing everything I ate to the magic of Koju.

This meal took place last fall. The entire meal is posted below with minimal description – words are meaningless ²…

- chuck

1 – Similar effect, but in a completely contrasting style, El Poblet is the other restaurant I would consider as “my absolute favorite.”

2 – Terre et Mer wrote a more detailed description of his Winter meal. There is also last year’s review of a similar meal and time period.

Harutaka was recommended by Okuda-san (Koju) on my first trip and, later, Seiji Yamamoto (Ryugin) also gave it a very high recommendation (which is not unexpected since the two are “good friends.”) Harutaka Takahashi trained at the legendary Jiro², one of two Michelin 3-star restaurants in Tokyo, although he doesn’t look much older than 40.

The fish at Harutaka was “pretty good”, a notch above Urasawa level for me. My main disappointment with the meal was that the rice was not to my preference – somewhat dry, al dente – nothing like the creaminess found in Mizutani, Masa (NYC), or even Kyubey on my last visit. I like how those rices blend with the fish as you chew, a unified whole. However, consistently, in my limited high-end Tokyo adventures, there will be served a dish or two that change your reference – so every meal is a worthwhile venture – waiting for the miracle. The buri, pictured first and last, was the best I’ve had – it came from a large fish and it exploded in flavor.

The restaurant has a clubby feel but, in retrospect, it wasn’t the worst way to spend the first night in Tokyo. This meal was quicker, lasting maybe two hours. It was a good re-introduction to Tokyo and the restaurants that lie ahead. I personally prefer Sawada for fish (and the vinegar-charged rice) and Masa for overall quality – but this was only one meal – and we all know variations can and do occur.

To prove the point, Harutaka is Luxeat’s favorite sushi restaurant to date. Exploration, discovery, and learning – she has a head start on most of us.

- chuck

1- Yes, the title is taken from that somewhat topical song – stop reading, book a ticket and eat!

2 – Read one of the rare Sukiyabashi Jiro reviews on A Life Worth Eating – does it live up to the promise?

One year later, a few weeks further in the season, the results were no less enchanting. When you look at man through food, his limits might be revealed by his best pieces of sushi.

A Masa meal is a journey through the season, more comprehensive than the other sushi boutiques/bars/restaurants on this visit. Different fish are explored in more detail as they weave in and out of the meal. Raw slices are followed by grilled and later yet by skin or innards. It rivals Urasawa (LA) in the way it explores taste and texture, revisiting and expanding themes throughout. If one were obsessive, the mapping out of fish, cuts, thickness, textures, temperatures, and preparations might reveal untold glories.

While absolutely a temple by American standards, with a potentially intimidating cast of characters at times, Masa is more playful than the rigid Sawada or man-machine Mizutani – the atmosphere is lighter, questions are encouraged, and photos are welcomed.

The highlights of this meal were the bonito (easily besting my old favorite at Kuruma in NYC) and the “salmon who lost his way” (eunuch in more poetic terms.) The only letdown was the grilled baby swordfish – the piece from last year would still make an all-time top 10 list – this piece near the bottom of this meal. The pictures below don’t represent the entire meal – just the pictures that turned out the best – randomly ordered.

Sawada was the revelation on this trip in terms of ingredient quality but Masa provided a different, and equally rewarding, experience. The two restaurants are very different and both are equally encouraged for any visit to Tokyo. Both will be certainties for my next trip. How soon can I return and try Sushi Saito too?

- chuck

(Apologies for the delays between posts. There are big projects in the works that will absolutely interest readers of this blog. Please stay tuned for more frequent entries and more details!)

1 – To be honest, I’m not sure if this is its real name. I found it listed on a web site when I wrote my first review but I can’t find another reference to it. Masa is definitely part of its name.

I will have a lot more to say about this meal – when the post for my second meal comes out. For now, I will say “I have had none better.” I must thank my virtual friend Cathy Ho for bringing this restaurant to my attention ² over a year ago.

It is a temple – that is ridiculously expensive – and it is absolutely worth it.

If the Holidays give me one thing, it might be a chance to begin writing the backlog – Elements (Princeton), New Haven pizzas, Sawada, Koju, Ryugin, Harutaka, Coi, another Ubuntu, and more.

- chuck

1 – Do not fully trust the colors – the lighting was deceptively difficult – and color correction proved challenging. The second batch of photos are much improved.

2 – Yes, it has 2 Michelin stars but her photos made me dream of a return to Tokyo – they gave me purpose!

- chuck

The standard American or Australian wagyu available in most domestic restaurants offers neither the dry-aged beefiness of a well-aged steak nor the tenderness of the mythical Kobe beef from Japan; instead, it is often an overpriced compromise without much reward. If only given those experiences as reference points, my interest would be little. Fortunately, the US and Japan found a compromise in a beef importing impasse and real high-quality Japanese wagyu can now be found in America.

(Above) – A sirloin getting weighed at O’Shima, this portion for two. It is not as marbled as the A10 beef from Urasawa (below.) That is good – it would not (or should not?) be possible to eat a steak of A10 – far too rich.

My limited experience with Japanese beef has proved seductive. The A10 kobe at Urasawa (LA), sliced thinly and seared for an instant, was a revelation in texture over warm rice. The $100 “kobe” supplement at Masa (NYC)² was entirely different – cut thicker, not as marbeled – it’s flavor redolent of citrus overtones – not unlike the secondary flavors of chocolate or coffee. The beef at the Secret Japanese Beef Place in LA ³ is neither Japanese nor wagyu, but it is raised with Japanese sensibilities – specific diets to control intended flavors – and, while lacking “beefiness”, the combination of texture and taste is quite rewarding. The distinction between the Japanese and other varieties of wagyu most likely boils down to some combination of native breeds, careful and purposeful diets, and fanatical care for the meat – and the results speak for themselves.

The experience of finding O’Shima is similar to A Life Worth Eating’s recount Aragawa, purported to be the world’s most expensive restaurant (serving steak!) O’Shima is located in the basement of an office building, something that is quite common in Tokyo, a function of real estate scarcity and a possible desire for anonymity. After walking into an empty lobby, there is little to suggest a restaurant might be hidden somewhere on the premises. I read the restaurant was in the basement so I pressed down, hoping not to cause an international incident. The elevator door opened into a lively scene – a long bar for 8-10 people, a multitude of chefs behind it, and a back room with a few tables. It was more of a club where Sushiso Masa was a shrine.

The chef and his sous chef spoke great English, not that it would be very hard to point to the marbled steak with one hand, while wiping the drool with the other. The menu was very basic – strip and sirloin – available in 100g or 200g sizes. It is fine dining stripped down to its bare essential – a singular focus on one luxury ingredient.⁴ There are some minor distractions on the menu, like salad, but there is no reason to fool yourself – the beef is the raison d’être.

The crab croquettes were made from live crab, many of which were crawling around on the back counter. Despite the frying being a touch heavy-handed, the crunch yielded to a perfect creamy consistency inside.

The beef carpaccio, overkill in retrospect, had the consistency of soft butter. The Japanese do not generally dry-age their meat as long as others and, without any cooking, this piece lacked any flavor. It was interesting for its textural qualities but its lack of taste created a small amount of worry – would the steak suffer the same fate?

The ordering of the salad was probably reactionary, maybe even an involuntary reflex, when one considers the likelihood of eating a great salad in a steak house. The greens were fine but the mealy tomato was a distasteful reminder to stick to the script.

There are many cliches surrounding kobe beef, none more prevalent than “it melts in your mouth.” This rare piece of sirloin could have been labeled “beef butter” or “beef foie gras” and it would have fulfilled every expectation of such a title. The meat yielded to the bite without any resistance – the weight of your bite would cut through it. Surprisingly, despite its melting quality, the fat was not too rich to be overbearing; it was a perfect proportion of meat to fat for eating an entire steak. While it had a great grilled taste, it lacked the dry-aged beefiness of the best steaks I’ve had. From my understanding, extensive dry-aging of meat with such high fat content leads to the meat turning rancid. They appear to be two mutually exclusive variables – dry-aged taste or melting texture – and they both have their pros and cons. Despite my preferences, this was a remarkable steak that I would absolutely recommend for its textural qualities.

For the price freaks, the steak itself was about $150 US. Expensive but not prohibitive for such an experience.

Rice concluded the meal – a simple and traditional end.

The candied oranges were alternating sweet and bitter, to the extreme, with each bite. He packed over 10 more pieces for the plane ride home the next day. A nice gesture, perhaps conciliatory in nature. Why? Regulars knew to order a bento box at the beginning of their meal – a sandwich made from all of the steak trimmings throughout the meal! And he had run out. Take note if you make plans to eat at O’Shima.

It was a very good meal, although it didn’t reach the heights of previous meals at Koju, Ryugin, or Sushiso Masa. The fish encountered at those restaurants upended even the highest expectations for the ingredient. The beef at O’Shima exceeded my expectations, but my personal, and perhaps cultural, preferences for dry-aged meat prevent me from including O’Shima in the top tier of Tokyo dining experiences. Nonetheless, I would recommend O’Shima as a pillar of any high-end food itinerary for Tokyo – it should be experienced at least once.

- chuck

1 – The only other beef moment was a small but intense piece of beef served by Koju (Tokyo).

2 – There was no report for this particular meal but it came after my sensational meal about a year ago.

3 – The Secret Beef Place has been outed on a number of blogs, including Yelp. The policy, however, is still “customers only” – new customers can only come with an existing customer. This, as it turns out, is not an uncommon practice in Japan.

4 – Not unlike my preferred American destination for sashimi – Sawa.

Ryugin popped on my radar when Chef Michael Cimarusti (Providence, Los Angeles) mailed me a DVD of Yamamoto performing cooking tricks that resembled a hybrid of Homaro Cantu’s (Moto, Chicago) high-tech-ery and Adoni Aduriz’s (Mugartiz, a favorite of mine) more organic approach. Indeed, as I did more research, I learned that Yamamoto and Aduriz were great friends, citing each other as influences and inspiration. The food at Mugaritz has an underlying Asian twist and it is possible to see how the two could find common ground to push each other further.³ A few inquiries found that, while experimental, Ryugin still had the Japanese attention to ingredient quality. The restaurant seemed to be at the forefront of an Eastern response to the largely Spanish molecular gastronomy “movement.”

Ryugin was slotted for the “experimental” dinner during the Japan trip – Aronia de Takazawa just looked too sterile. It would be interesting to see how, if at all, Ryugin would provide insight into Hyotei’s uber-traditional approach or Koju’s ingredient purity. When the chef at Koju mentioned that he & Yamamoto studied together, and maintained a very close relationship, my curiosity was further piqued. The ingredients and precision at Koju were beyond approach; would Ryugin fulfill this promise while at the more experimental side of the spectrum?

Yes, it could, but with quite an unexpected twist. There was none of the hallmark trickery that is generally associated with the restaurant (and still referenced in current magazine mentions.) Here was a man, known as for burdock root wine corks and functional bar codes that could be scanned with cell phones, committing to ingredients and taste. This was one of the best meals of my life. Not only were there no blatant mis-steps, but some of the ingredients and dishes will serve as reference items for the future. The meal had a “warmth”, or familiarity, that was missing from Koju; and I suspect this makes it slightly easier for a novice Western palette, such as mine, to rave about it.

“Ichiban Dashi” soup with puree of matsutake mushroom
A clear soup of (presumably) the classic first soaking of dashi broth (kelp and bonito) with a matsutake puree substituted for dried mushrooms. The flavor was very “clean” while the puree gave it a subdued earthy complexity.

Deep-fried seaweed, stuffed with Uni
Very delicate frying, the uni, from Nagasaki, was “raw warm” (slightly warmed but more or less raw.) The uni was sweeter and brinier than the Hokkaido uni I had been eating on this trip and it would rank atop most, if not all, of the uni I’ve eaten. The textural components of this dish were also fascinating as the batter had the slightest crunch, slightly augmented by the seaweed, and then all gave way to the creamy uni.

Aichi Figs w/ Port-flavored Foie Gras Terrine, served with sesame cream
This goose was fed white corn and figs to sweeten its liver; and those same staples accompanied the foie gras on the plate. The port flavor was slight, just enough to offset the intense creaminess and richness of the foie gras. This was every bit as good as The French Laundry foie (which was my previous favorite.)

Blue Swimming Crab and Shanghai crab (with roe aplenty!) topped with Chrysanthemum Gelee
This reminded me of an Urasawa dish on steroids – absolutely delicious. In a way, it could be interpreted as Japanese decadence – crab and roe. It worked well coming after the foie, its lightness and brightness a reprieve from the much richer foie gras.

Ryugin’s House Special – contrast of two abalone pieces – one steamed for ten hours, the other shabushabu for 10 seconds
The steamed abalone had an excellent texture – yielding but compliant – but this dish couldn’t live up to the sensations of its predecessors. The abalone pairs well with the earthy mushrooms but this course, for me, was an interlude between great pleasures.

Assorted Sashimi “Ryugin Style” – TREMENDOUS!!
Two pieces of each fish were served, one to be eaten with the dot of sauce next to it, the other with soy sauce. I could not follow the directions because the quality of fish was extraordinary. I could not bring myself to sauce it enjoyed it pristine and unadorned.

Red Snapper from Osaka area – The waitress explained the waters around Osaka are *very* turbulent and that the fish caught there are quite strong. She said the meat would not be buttery; but, instead, quite muscular and tough. Muscles taste great – I could taste the ocean with each bite. There was a depth of flavor – strong followed by waves of subtly – that I’ve rarely experienced. It was as if the Osaka currents were unleashed into the mouth. This was the single best bite of fish if my life. This bite alone justified the trip.⁴

Beluga Cavari w/ Squid – The chef has a reputation for amazing knife skills and they were in full display here. The squid unfolded into a ten-inch ribbon with further cuts throughout to soften its texture. Raw squid in Japan bares no resemblance to anything you find in American restaurants – its taste and texture might as well be a different animal.

Hommard bleu from Bretagne – “Kaiseki” in Tokyo can take some liberties, and this addition was certainly odd thematically, but this slightly seared piece of lobster could be served at L’Arpege and fit right in.

The toro, after these fireworks, was the weakest but that is only because relativity can be cruel. On any other plate at any other restaurant, this piece of toro would be regarded as a highlight of a meal – fatty, melting, with nice kick of flavor.

Egg Pudding made with Hamo’s Bone Stock, Flavor of Autumn
The egg pudding, a chawan-mushi of sorts, was also mixed with monkfish liver. It was remarkably smooth and silky but robust thanks to the richness of the ankimo. The dish, with a slight resemblance to a full moon, represented the harvest season.

Char-grilled Natural Large Eel w/ Aroma of Japanese Peppers, monkfish liver
The waitress explained that most eel, even in Japan, is farmed; but that the chef has a special connection for wild eel. The wild eel in Japan, again, bares little resemblance to anything I have eaten in America. The texture has an integrity often missing in America but its taste has the waves of flavor described above in the Osaka red snapper sashimi dish.

Grilled Pigeon
The menu merely read “grilled meat course” and I was slightly disappointed that it was not beef (I had not had beef with only two days to go) but, as the picture shows, the pigeon was grilled textbook perfect. The “japanese mashed potatoes” – soy husks that had been pureed – were surprisingly addictive and comforting. The truffles, while not amazing, gently perfumed the puree.

Chef’s Rice of the Day
The white bowl of steamed rice at the end of kaiseki meals is jarring to me. It just does not seem to fit into a narrative of a meal, no matter how hard I try to link the connections.⁵ Ryugin chose to flavor his rice dish (he actually served two) and that provided a comforting, yet appropriately concluding, dish for the fantastic meal. Several types of rice were used and the grains were distinguishable in the mouth. (I do not remember the flavors of the rice.)

Fresh Compote of Pear and Small Grapes with Plum Wine Soda Gelee
The fruit was very fresh, the plum wine soda crisp, and this palette cleanser definitely popped, but the soda gelee might have been too carbonated for my tastes.

Caramel Ice Cream with “Wasanbon Sugar”, served with grated Milk-Curd
This was a world-class dessert – the wasanbon sugar, native to Japan and very limited, gave the caramel a quite different flavor. The grated milk curd on top, nutty in flavor, was so delicious that I probably would not complain if it was placed atop my toro. This was crazy delicious.

Baked Chestnut Cake, served on Full Moon presentation
Yamamoto is known for the visual flare of his dishes and this one was striking from an artistic point of view. It could not match the natural beauty of Koju’s autumn plate but this dish is probably more emblematic of the chef and his personality. Where traditional kaiseki would opt for muted traditional pottery, this dish vibrated with color and energy.

This was a kaiseki meal in spirit but it obviously took a few liberties – French lobster and pan-Japanese ingredients. Purists might argue with the approach but the meal felt like a modern, not experimental, version of the more traditional Hyotei and Koju. The food is not as austere, yet subtlety and ingredient quality were not sacrificed. Such steps took the edge off of the obtusiveness I felt with the other meals – and made it more accessible to this Western palette.

The restaurant has only received two Michelin stars but this meal was decidedly three-star material; at a price point that is very compelling when compared to European establishments ($250/person before alcohol.) When thinking of the greatest meals on this planet, given my still limited experiences, this would have to rank alongside L’Arpege, Pierre Gagnaire, El Poblet, Michel Bras, and presumably Noma⁶ for the absolute essentials of world-class eating.

For a review of a near-identical meal one day before, read Krugiste’s Ryugin review at her blog. She also brings up a great point that I completely agree with (based on my limited experiences of course) – there are very few mistakes in Japanese dishes. There is a reverence for perfection, every single time, that is lacking in French and Spanish two- and three-star restaurants.

Eat Show and Tell also had a near-identical meal with excellent pictures. Exile Kiss has an excellent review during what looks like the transition period from experimental to contemporary.

I suspect that Ryugin will begin appearing on “best restaurants in the world” lists next year. Noma seems to have captured the hearts and minds of food writers this year, but I think Ryugin will become a media darling soon enough.

- chuck

1 – I use the word “possibly” because I don’t know the techniques behind the food I ate. Regardless of the techniques, the chef assuredly draws from his historical experiments for inspiration and ideas.

2- This is a quote from the waitress, who also heads up international PR (and speaks perfect English.)

3 – This is, of course, speculation on my part.

4 – I say this with only a bit of hyperbole.

5 – And I say this knowing that half of the world enjoys nothing more than a simple bowl of white steamed rice.

6 – I have not eaten at Noma proper but I did try Rene Redzepi’s food at Manresa.

As the number of choices in the US dwindle due to inconsistent or inadequate quality;¹ I was very curious, and skeptical, if sushi (and raw fish in general) was “that much better” in Japan. The fish is not necessarily fresher since many high-end places air ship it from Japan; what does it matter if the fish is sitting in a restaurant waiting for dinner, or on a plane? Since business connections are made over many years in Japan, was it possible that native practitioners had access to higher quality ingredients? And what of the sushi itself – could its art form be more elevated from the highest expressions on American soil? Time was at a premium, and there were many non-sushi places to try, but I ear-marked Sushiso Masa as “the place” based on a friend’s (offline) report.

This was the third sushi meal, the last in a survey of Tokyo sushi at different price points. Kyubei, one Michelin star, was a surprising value for lunch ($75 US/person) but the quality was no better than Sushi Yasuda. Dinner is more serious and others have reviewed it to high praise. A lunch spot, the name I forgot, in Ginza was another surprise value for $25 US/person – nothing was extraordinary – but everything was of high quality. My expectations for Sushiso Masa grew since it promised to compete on a higher level.

The ingredient quality defied description, particularly for American taste buds. Piece after piece changed my conception – taste and texture – of the fish being served. There are complexities and arcs in the taste that are rarely found in the US. Ingredients like wild eel and octopus bore faint resemblance to their namesakes, a feat repeated the next day at RyuGin. The effect is not unlike eating at Chez Panisse for the first time, where one’s eyes are opened to the true possibilities of the ingredients. This was but one meal and one wonders what revelations other seasons might produce when the fish change waters.

The meticulousness of the sushi was on par with a Masa (NYC) or Urasawa, but more consistent throughout the meal. The rice was warm, seasoned, where each grain could be distinguished in the mouth. One might say it was risotto-like once bitten into. As good as the fish was, the rice stood up and complemented the fish, the two symbiotic. Thirty-five pieces were passed, many of them white fish, but their taste and texture never repeated.

But the stars of the night may not have been raw – the grill was turning meat into gold. Etxebarri (Axpe, Spain) gets international accolades for his grill skills, but, while very good, most of his dishes come off very smoky. Sushiso Masa’s grill man took a more deft approach: the fat in between the charred skin and “cooked raw” meat of a swordfish gave way like melted butter, a pike conger eel had hints of sublime smokiness; and a shrimp shell had the redolent taste of a faint char.

The pictures throughout this post are in completely random order.

While I rarely discuss price on this blog, this meal was cheaper than eating at top-tier places in the US; and the quality was an order of magnitude better. It was nirvana. The memory of the sushi beckons me.

Michelin lists a handful of sushi restaurants – Mizutani (3-star), Sawada and Kanesaka – and while Sushiso Masa is not listed, there is no question it would at least fall into the 2-star level, based on the pictures I’ve seen (and, of course, the meal I ate.) I would give it three without hesitation. There are probably dozens of sushi bars reminiscent of Sushiso Masa in Tokyo, hiding in plain view, catering to the highest levels of taste and perfection. Seek them out.²

Phone: 03-3499-9178 (note: you must speak Japanese)

- chuck

1 – After eating at Sushiso Masa, it’s hard to validate eating sushi in the US – I would rather forgo sushi and let the fish procreate. However, if I’m in the mood and in the right area, I would eat at these places: Sawa, Urasawa, Kuruma, and Masa. Sushi Yasuda is also recommended but it can be maddeningly inconsistent. There are probably a few more places throughout the country that are worthwhile, but certainly just a few.

2 – Here are a few reviews I have found:

• Kanesaka at Josephmallozzi’s Weblog
• Sawada at Krugiste’s Picasa page (mouth-watering pictures!)
• Sushi Mizutani at Exile Kiss, Zoces Globetrotting, and Peter’s World Tour 2008.
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