We're a little early, but they graciously seat us anyway. Two gentlemen are finishing their meal, and their joyful banter establishes the exact atmosphere we're hoping for.
As we're basking in their joy, a beautifully seared Flounder starter promptly arrives. It's an intro to the sushi - an understated elegance that I can still feel. There's a criss-cross texture to this meat, a cut from the fin, I believe. It's a firm interlacing of fat that just falls off each other and melts away like greasy bliss. A mix of lettuce and mushrooms rests below with a light, lifting miso.
Between bites, we can continue the casual conversation, and we listen to the chef's story over our first bite, a bright white Halibut with a splash of yuzu.
The chef's name is Sam, and he and his story sum up everything I love about SoCal. He's a Korean kid from Torrance who lived in the exact apartment complex I did, and he wanted to eat Japanese. He worked his way up through the izakayas, and one day, while cooking his skewers, Takeda offered him a spot.
A meaty piece of Japanese Mackerel hits our spot. It tastes red, dense and more substantial with more umami.
Sam speaks with casual composure, shrugging off his accomplishments, as if he caught the eye of a Michelin-starred sushi chef by simply existing. He serves our sushi with the same skilled indifference, this one escalating to an even meatier Bluefin Tuna.
His hands move deftly, his fingers press with a practiced firmness, mastery hiding behind his humility.
A pretty piece, the Goldeneye Snapper kissed by kombu. It's not a big deal, just a brush with seaweed, but where I've had it finish bitter before, their version only brings out the existing aromatics of the fish. It's a brilliant sensation, one that will permeate your senses and make you pause.
A scored and seared Scallop, so slightly singed. The ash amplifies the sweetness.
The crescendo is a meltaway Toro.
A slice of Sardine Roll is stuffed with ginger and green onion provides a reset for the next and final round.
It starts with the Striped Jack, a mix of sweet and meaty.
Micro globules of Sweet Shrimp tease the tongue.
King mackerel, the Sawara, has none of the pickled fishiness. The texture is more flaky, with a little chew, a bold and welcome contrast to the melting butter of the previous pieces.
Japanese Barracuda is still warm from being freshly seared, and they tell you to eat it quickly so the nori still has crunch. This fish finishes like pure silk once you break through the sear. Its flavor is exceptional - I don't think I've ever had anything with this sweet-flaky-buttery profile.
A bowl of Uni and Ikura, and it's almost over. The ikura bubbles coat your tongue with a viscous savor - their preparation pushes out the fishy finish and minimizes the brine. The uni is from Santa Barbara, and I find it thicker and creamier but more bitter than Hokkaido. No less enjoyable, as it seeps into the crevices of the rice beneath.
A mini Futomaki to finish, filled with kanpyo and tamago. I don't know if it's trending, but I'm seeing more chefs make straight egg compared to the shrimp-laced creations from several years back. There's benefits to both, and I like how this one highlights the egg, making it more like dessert.
A fizzy shot of Yuzu Soda for the road, and we're out.
The next seating starts, and Aziz Ansari waltzes in. I didn't squeal, and I only stared a little - the chef tells me he's a regular. That's great; I'm about to become a regular myself.
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