Sushi Gen - Los Angeles

#sushithursday. That's a thing, right? That's totally not a thing, but we're making it a thing because there's no way we're getting a weekend seat at Sushi Gen without a reservation.

What's so special about Sushi Gen that makes people line up in a random little strip mall? For starters, they have a parking lot with affordable, validated parking. And then the omakase says it all. 

Sushi bar seats are the only way to go, and we're off to a quick start with a light app of Seaweed and Tororo. An interesting mix of textures, a collaboration of sea vs earth.  

Oh look, my favorite...everything is my favorite. And they don't play: they start with the best and end with it too. A couplet of Chu-toro and O-toro hit us hard. No palate-warmer for these slick slices of cold, flavor-burst fat. Each globule sticks to the tongue and coats it, each one bursts and sinks and spreads its savor slowly, lingering long after it's gone. 

A double helping of Amebi, another sweet and sticky sushi. This one also gets a bit globular, and the texture just one step above viscous. The gooey, almost-stickiness is the best.

Uni from Hokkaido, my favorite location. It's seamlessly creamy, sweet and succulent with barely a touch of brine.

Oysters are an unexpected treat, and these are fresh, salted butter.

The reason for double shrimp is revealed. The amebi heads are served fried and in miso soup. The head adds a lot of flavor, and everything tastes better fresh out of the fryer.

Back to business. There's a slice of Yellowtail so fatty and fresh, it tastes as creamy as the toro. The Salmon is a sweet ending, also with some marbled fat. 

Scallop and Sea Bream are a dynamic duo. No soy sauce permitted on these citrus-brushed, salt-sprinkled succulents accented with a mild flash-fire yuzu pepper.

Spanish Mackerel is meaty like a raw steak with less fishy undertones compared to its cousin. Albacore is soft and periwinkle pink, a lighter piece of perfection. 

Last round, ending in Tamago and eel. The egg is sweet and mildly shrimpy, a dense yet fluffy closer. The Unagi is heavier and more solid in texture, slathered with a weighty sauce. The Anago is a contrast, more soft-spoken and of an airy persuasion. Different pieces of the same puzzle, both of them a piece of pure bliss.

Jiro's Sukiyabashi ruined sushi for me. I love the stuff, but I haven't found the same joy since that Tokyo trip three years prior. Sushi Gen is the first time I've been genuinely impressed in THREE YEARS and it is easily best omakase I've had since Tokyo.