Shunji - Santa Monica

An unmarked store front, windows blacked out. A server emerges from a suspicious-looking front door that looks like a side door right before your seating time and leads you to a different world. The decor is sleek, the floor is shiny and spotless, and a sliding divider separates two sushi bars. Eight seats each, only four occupied, with the chef centered. We get Shunji himself and his extraordinary omakase of sushi and kaiseki. 

The first round is a smorgasbord of seasonal vegetables, prepared perfectly to highlight their natural flavors. Viscous cauliflower sweetens bitter brussels and cradles English peas. Logs of white asparagus support a spoon of caviar.

Squares of Scallop and Shrimp are meaty and succulent, contrasting textures tender and firm. 

Fiddlehead Ferns are a forager's find - they're snappy and sharp, a real gasp of grass. Mountain yam's sweetness offsets the briny bellies of fire-braised squid. 

A steaming cup of Onion Soup sips smoothly and tastes like time: the time it takes to boil every last drop of meaty savor out of a bunch of bones, the time it takes to thicken meat-water into a hearty broth, the time it takes to transform a throwaway into a treasure. I've never had a soup taste so richly of time.

A Sashimi of smooth kanpachi, melty marbled toro, and slick strands of squid. The sharp stab of real wasabi and salt of aged shoyu are noted.

Bonito is bold with smoke and soy sauce, a balance to the last tender ramps of spring. They look and taste like green onion crossed with leek, but there's a smoother, softer, subtler quality that makes them truly memorable.

A braised Black Cod is flaky butter balanced by a bitter broad bean and scallion broth.

A fried Oyster ball is a puree of perfect granules that harmonize butter, bile, and brine. 

It's straight sushi from here, and there's a gleaming Red Snapper to start. 

It jumps to a slick Seasonal Trout that has the softest, smoothest flesh, silkier and more plush than any salmon.

Squid is expertly scored; those little cuts turn rubbery stiffness smooth and tender. 

King Mackerel is meaty and robust. 

Lean Tuna is the other red meat.

And Toro is perfection.

Ikura tastes like bubbles of a barely-briny sea.

This piece is the Sea Perch, a fish that is unforgettable. It has a mouth-feel of buttery plush and an enveloping sweetness with a slight sear sends up some smoke.

Abalone slices are a sea-steak, on a bed of uni rice. The liver sauce is understated yet bold and bitter, and it makes the subtle sweetness pop. 

A mighty Sardine is oil and salt. The fillet-work is gorgeous, and each little cut releases more pockets of savor. 

Ankimo is a bonus piece by special request, a Shunji preparation of all cream and fat. He eliminates all the bitter notes from the bile, fabricating foie gras from the sea. 

An assertive nori makes crunches in a Hand Roll full of gooey tuna. 

A sweet-flesh Anago tastes as pure as its bright white flesh. 

A brick of Tamago signals the end. 

The final dessert is a Poached Pear, clear and pure, punctuated with Ginger Ice Cream. 

It's an amazing meal, but to say that does it no justice. What you get here isn't merely food. There's an entire journey in all these courses, a life lived, a story told. Shunji is a master of all trades; he even brews his own sake, and when he cooks, he sweeps you away, and you forget there is a world beyond this table. Each element requires thought and precision, and there is no detail spared, down to the stunning dishware for every delight. Some would say it's just a meal, but what Shunji makes is so much more than that.