Opulent Oishii – Boston

Finally! Things I haven’t seen. Everything’s been done to death in the world of food, and I was getting tired of variations on the same old theme. And there are few cuisines more limiting than Japanese. You can only come up with so many combinations uncooked or minimally cooked fish before it becomes a gimmick, and high-end sushi devolves into a battle of quality. Noodle bowls are an endless arena, but how many more times can I complain about Boston’s dry run on ramen? I had gotten to the point where I just couldn’t take another bite of my beloved rainbow roll without feeling like I was stuck in a fishy rut. So I took a chance and a splurge and watched as Oishii prevailed against all odds. For the first time in Boston, I had stumbled upon a Japanese den of invention and innovation ruled by a chef with a vision.

An amuse bouche is traditionally just one bite, but believe me, you don’t want to throw back this shot of green silk. The Edamame Mousse makes for smooth little spoonfuls, airy and cool with the flavor of unbeatable freshness.

What sushi dinner is complete without a maki? I didn’t expect the maki to complete my life, but this Toro Truffle Maki does the job. Topped with seared toro, a cut of tuna slick from a fatty belly, balanced by cool cukes and a crunchy tempura shrimp. I never expected white truffle to jive with tuna, but these powerful little shavings build on the rich toro and pack some punch of their own.

It takes serious nerve to serve amebi – raw shrimp spoils with a rancid sting faster than you can say ebi. But when confronted with a basket of Chirashi this perfect, the amebi is as sweet as every other brilliant bite. The tuna is tasty, the salmon is solid, but the rice was disappointingly plain. Just don’t be too scared to take a few bites of the battered amebi head for an extra burst of bittersweet. And definitely give due diligence to that little dish of salmon roe.

A Japanese restaurant must have noodles. And the Noodles with Uni (or whatever it’s called) are thin and slightly chewy with just enough fluffy egg to make it filling but light. Break the egg and mix this lighter, classier, and a-lot-less-processed hybrid of bagged ramen and Maggi and chew slowly while the uni bursts with flavor. Take note Via Matta, THIS is how uni is done.

Judging by some the Yelp reviews about the dessert, I got the impression that the Green Tea Tiramisu put the O in Oishii. I usually agree with your average yelper, but I just wasn’t a huge fan. The rich, subtle sweetness of the mascarpone undoubtedly revved my engine, but the tall, narrow dish it was served in had the dimensions of a champagne flute so it was impossible to eat the mascarpone with the bittersweet ladyfinger layer at the bottom. A few bites and I was about a quarter mile short of joining that mile-high club. Mostly because I’m not a fan of digging for buried treasure…especially if it’s my dessert you buried.

Thanks Oishii, you justified my three years in South End. Over the years, I often wondered I should have slipped away in favor of affordable food meccas like Cambridge and Chinatown. But sometimes you really do get what you pay for, and once in a while it’s good to opt for a place like Oishii. Sure it’s pricey and sure it’ll set you back a couple meals out, but this kind of quality with this kind of ingenuity ends up in an experience that is priceless. (For everything else there’s Mastercard).