Omakase at Yasuda

Finally. After years of working just around the corner from Yasuda and looking longingly through the window on my lunch breaks, my dreams have come true. I've had sushi every which way -- in a goblet, on an oyster shell, with mousse, blow-torched, wrapped in cucumber, topped with yuzu -- and I was ready to just have it done RIGHT. Good sushi. Good rice. No extras. No filler. No room for creativity. Just sushi, simple and perfect.

I knew I was in for a treat (I mean, I'd been anticipating this meal for years) but I had no idea sushi could be this amazing. Every piece was clean, pristine, disappeared like a cloud in my mouth. Even the taste was so pure it needed a little something -- soy, wasabi, salt, whatever -- to make the flavors stand out just a tiny bit more. 

My only request in the omakase was to start with sashimi. Prime our palates a little. Our private sushi chef got right to work, slicing ultra thin pieces of tuna, yellowfish, Alaskan trout (I think?), with chewier bits of orange clam and squid. We had a little coarse sea salt for the clam and squid, making two of my lesser favorites something I couldn't get enough of. Wow. Now we were excited for sushi.

I didn't write down anything or take many pictures. I really just wanted to experience and enjoy. The sushi chef would plunk it down. We'd pick it up with bare fingers and toss it back. And so it went. There were playful pairings that really made you pay attention to the subtle flavors of each fish: there were three types of salmon, different types of tuna (including bluefin, which I guess I should have morally refused but instead indulged and unregrettably enjoyed), fresh and saltwater eel. There was scallop and just-cooked shrimp. Everything piece melted onto the perfect rice beneath it, slightly vinegared, a little salty, every grain distinguishable from every other while the fish dissolved into it. Amazing. 

Even the seaweed here was unlike any I'd had before. Not crunchy or jarring. It was soft and fresh and a little sticky between my teeth. It was filled with toro that again, melted into the rice around it. A nice, filling way to end the omakase. I was full and satisfied but not too stuffed to go out for a nice bottle of wine after.

When we were done, our sushi chef -- who started off a little standoffish but had really warmed up to us by then -- asked if there was anything we didn't have that we'd like to. We both asked for uni. He said it was out of season, but put something together for us that worked just as well, if not better, than uni. It was part of a scallop. He said it was only available in the summer and that people went crazy for it. It was really similar to uni but bigger, slick and creamy like a freshly shucked oyster. Our eyes popped open. We asked him to tell us more about it. And so he gave us a brief tutorial of the anatomy of a scallop. It appeared that the part he was indicating was the reproductive gland. "You had male. This part female." Hmm. It was hard to decide whether to be grossed out by what we just learned or happy that it was so amazing. We both had the same "hmmmm" reaction. I guess its just like a big roe. No one had ever told me about scallop roe.

We finished the sake and headed back out into Midtown. This is it, we said. That's the last sushi we can ever eat.

(I might have ruined it with that Karumazushi bit, but, for the blog's sake of food drama, I'm gonna go ahead and say that is that. Forever. Now I'm done.)

Unless you also plan on giving up sushi forever, I have to warn against going here. It really is just that good.

Sushi Yasuda

204 e. 43rd St.

Omakase at Neta

It's funny how most menu items cost about same across the board -- a good burger is about $18, a nice roasted chicken dish is $25, a filet's about $32 -- and tasting menus are completely all over the place. We had an awesome four-course meal at Cava in Portsmouth for $35 and 11 courses at Europea in Montreal for $70 -- not including the multiple courses of desserts. It's hard to go from getting so much bang for your buck to paying high end for omakase -- $135 at Neta -- and getting so much less. Yeah, you have to factor in where you are (West Village is not New Hampshire) and the quality of food you are receiving (high-end sushi is not Spanish tapas) but when the difference of two tasting menus are over $100 apart, its hard not to wonder where all that additional money is going.

Anyway, with that rambling cost analysis aside, I have to say that Neta's sushi is great, fresh, high-quality and all that, but it's not very memorable. It was funny going through Europea and Au Pied de Cochon pictures and remembering what every bite tasted like, and then looking through Neta pics -- literally taken the day we got back from Montreal -- and only having a few items stand out.

While I waited for my dining counterparts to show, I sipped on this Rangaku, a punch made from "merlow barrel aged birds eye chili mead" from South Africa (so... red spicy honey wine?) and rooibus ginger tea and yuzu sorbet. It was kind of like a sake -- clear, sweet, balanced.

I asked the difference between the $95 and $135 omakase. Like I expected, the higher priced omakase includes higher quality ingredients, and isn't necessarily larger save for a course or two.  

We started with this. I don't remember what it was. Was it fluke and shrimp? Maybe.

Then one of the dishes for fancy omakase only: toro tuna tartar with sturgeon caviar and toast. It was pretty decadent.

Then Spanish Mackerel Tataki topped with a myoga vegetable salad with ginger and soy. Not as memorable. But then back to the kickass...

Sea urchin with raw scallops! I mean, what more can I say. It's more about the freshness and the fact that they're my favorites than anything else. The preparation is an afterthought.

 

This next tempura dish was meant to flaunt their veggies, I think. The Times review said they had respectable vegetable sushi, and most people aren't going to ask for it by name, so here it is. Shisito peppers and tofu and a little bit of soft shell shrimp. The spiciness and crispiness was a nice counterpoint to the scallop and uni from before.

My absolute favorite of the evening: rice with spicy salmon tartar and bonito flakes, served on a hot plate. It reminded me of a decadent bibimbap, hot crispy rice with cool, wet fish on top and saltiness from the dancing bonito. Sooo gooood.
 

Now onto the sushi. My favorite kinds to start: salmon with Szechuan sauce, spanish mackerel and toro. As you can see, the fish was gleamingly fresh, and had that perfect bite to it. Is umami a texture thing, too?

Then orange clam, scallop and kanpachi (amberjack).

The cooked fish. Softshell crab and seared toro.

And rolls. Tuna and eel. None of which were as good as the rounds of raw sushi.

Finally, a palate cleanser of rice in shiso.I thought it meant more fish was coming but...

... we were cleansing for dessert. Which was this grapefruit sorbet.

Okay, so when I left I was pretty pleased and all, but as I thought about it I realized that as one of the more expensive tasting menus we've splurged for, not just in that past week but ever, and thus it should be one of the more memorable. The fish was fresh -- can't argue that -- and the creativity was there -- sure, to an extent -- but I feel like we should have been eating less shrimp and a little more types of toro, maybe some crab, maybe that duck & foie I saw on the menu (though after our weekend in Montreal it was probably the last thing we needed). And definitely dessert! Ice cream, chocolate, something. Grapefruit sorbet is more of a palate cleaner in and of itself!

I also think we missed out on something by sitting at a table. They say there are two types of people in a sushi restaurant -- those at the sushi bar and tourists.

I'm going to Yasuda in a few days and when making the reservation I said the word "counter" and "bar" at least five times. I'm excited to do more... uh... comparison research.

Anyway, I'd definitely recommend hitting Neta for a cocktail and some a la carte sushi. I think I'm getting stingy with my omakase recommendations.

Neta

61 W. 8th St.

Adventures in Montreal: Europea

Europea wasn't on the list of places to visit in Montreal originally, but after doing some research I knew it'd be the perfect counterpoint to Au Pied de Cochon. The place is a little more upscale, the food is a little more fun, the portions are smaller so you can add some variety to your meal. 

I knew it'd be a great dinner, but I can't say I expected it to be quite so memorable. With the parade of creative amuse bouches, it reminded me of our dinner at Blue Hill at Stone Barns, only more fun, less pretentious, and oh yeah -- way more affordable! Three of us had the $70 pre-fixe and shared everything. Since we got to choose from three appetizers and four mains, we got to try almost everything in this range (in case you're wondering, the only thing we missed out on was the cornish hen). 

The amuses started with Parmesan lollipops and truffled popcorn. Putting their playful foot forward. 

Next, Canadian prosciutto hanging on a miniature clothes line. The smiles had already started by now. Such a cute idea, and the pork had this unique texture like it was laminated flat.

Then came the breadsticks. We were fooled into thinking things were regular again...

Until the woman that was not our waiter (but we wished she was -- she was so much fun!) presented us with a cigar box and asked us with a straight face if we would like a cigar before our meal came. We shook our heads. She asked if we would like to take one home for later. Again we said uh, no, thank you. Then she opened the box and asked if maybe now we would change our minds? It was three mozzarella sticks. Easily the best mozzarella stick any of us had ever had. I didn't know anyone had ever even attempted to gourmet-ify a childhood favorite of mine!

Now the bread and butter. I don't think the bread was necessarily better than APC's, but the butters were on par. The plain was great, but there were also three flavors -- a colorful flower butter, a creamy rum butter and a salty seaweed butter. Check out the beauty of the flower power!

You might think the amuses are done, but you're wrong. Now there's a tiny olive muffin. And rice crisps in a takeout container.

And then the best one! A lobster cream cappuccino, which I thought was loads better than the one we had at the Modern a few years ago. It was like a foamy bisque, and the truffle oil added an extra element of decadence.

But we're still not done. My favorite amuse bouche was the final one. Our fun lady jester of the evening gave each of us a book that we were invited to open when we were ready. The anticipation heightened. We opened the books and a cloud of smoke poured out. When the smoke cleared, we saw a tiny freshly-wood-smoked salmon tartlet on lemon cream. Reminded me a bit of the amuses we frequently get at Annisa, but with chicken liver mousse. Something about those little bite-sized cups that get me every time.

Okay. Finally, the starters. As Frank Bruni once said, everyone always has a special affinity for whatever it is they order when sharing with a group. It was true for the appetizers in this case. Soup made with chestnut and porcini cream with artichokes, burrata and crunchy fried quinoa for texture.

Now the surprise of the starters -- the calamari, which I typically cannot stand and was blown away by here. Somehow they make the squid into tender noodles that aren't unlike pasta (it actually is called "tagliatelle of lemony calamari") and topped with a poached quail egg and squid ink. I can't say I was expecting to enjoy it, and then I was left trying not to eat more than my portion.

And, of course, the foie gras. The foie is placed to sizzle on a hot stone at the table. Then it's covered in a glass case and you have to rely on self control to wait out the four minutes while the crispy lobe caramelizes in ice wine sauce. It's worth the wait. And it's so beautiful to watch the steam billow around the glorified goose liver. It's like something out of Willy Wonka. 

The palate cleaner was one of the most memorable parts of the meal. Believe it or not! It's actually one of the few things I knew I had to take notes on because I didn't want to forget. Dig your spoon past the top layer of foam and you'll find bits of granny smith apple with flavors of yuzu and cucumber, and a bit of ice cream at the bottom. Seems like it would confuse your taste buds, right? But really, it sets them up for the second round so perfectly. I would gladly eat a bowl of this for dessert any day.

My favorite main was the scallops wrapped in a "celery veil" with meringue powder, enokis and bleurre blanc. The scallops almost seemed to be enveloped in dough, and the sauce was so addicting it was hard to limit myself to my own two little dollops.

I think I ordered the dud of the group. The tagliolinis were good and all, perfectly cooked and clearly house made, but even with the mushrooms I felt it lacked flavor. There was white truffle oil, but it seemed to disappear as the foam dissipated. There were a few kernels of popcorn, but it seemed out of place. Plus it had that weird consistency of overbuttered-to-the-point-of-stale.

Finally, the veal cheek with salsify roots and more foam. The meaty sauce might have been my favorite, again.

There is no dessert menu. There is only "passport to sweetness." Which sounds a little silly until you realize that the desserts. Never. Stop. And then you don't mind so much. Somebody stamp that sucker ASAP.

First, a GIANT cloud of pink cotton candy. Chocolate lollipops rolled in poprocks. We're kids at the fair again. "I'll be back with the rest," says our court jester.

Then a little pina colada for each of us...

A container full of lemony madelines...

A champagne macaron, a passionfruit marshmallow and a caramel cookie with fleur de sel. One trio for each of us. "I'll be right back with the rest..."

We've circled back around to breakfast: a fried egg and french toast sticks. It freaked me out to see what looked like a peppery egg and tasting...  apricot puree inside an emulsion. The french toast was coated marshmallows. Great presentation. Not my favorite though.

And now the desserts for the ride home. Two freshly-baked brioche. A bag of cookies. FOR EACH OF US. With the leftover madelines and two bags each, we walked back to the car with our arms full.

Then we headed over to Au Pied de Cochon for second dinner. Total rockstar weekend.

Okay, so APC was amazing and all, but I have to admit that Europea will stick out in my mind for much longer. The ongoing parade of carnival treats was endlessly entertaining. There was a lot of excitement of wondering what would come next. And, as I write this post, I realize it incorporates components of some of the best of the best meals I've had. Amuse bouches like at Blue Hill at Stone Barns, lobster cappuccino like at The Modern, madelines like at DB Bistro Moderne, soup with intense chestnut flavors like the ice cream at Nougatine, tartlets like at Annisa. 

I can't think of another restaurant I could recommend more.

Europea

1227 Rue de la Montagne

Montreal, QC