Sushi Chitose UPDATE - Redondo Beach

After SushiStop, Sushi Chitose is exactly what I need. So on a random Thursday lunch, while someone was sniffing my car for fumes at the 76, I was sniffing all the sushi smells at Chitose's bar. 

My car passed its smog check, and Chitose passed its palate check. The Omakase is still on point, but the selections haven't changed too much so I'll try to keep my recap brief.

The Monkfish Liver starts things off, a creamy pat of liver-butter with a dash of acid-ponzu.

Maguro is a dense slice of sophistication - can't fight the bluefin!

The Yellowtail comes next, a whiter, lighter contrast.

Scottish Salmon is creamy and smooth,

And Halibut is a reliable palate-reset with the aftertaste of a crisp shiso leaf.

Amberjack is gooey and sticky in all the right ways,

and the lighter Snapper is dwarfed by the more-robust Albacore.

The Shima-aji, or striped horse mackerel, has a hint of the fishy mackerel I despise, but the chunky texture cuts down on the sting.

The Sweet Shrimp is so soft,

and the Japanese Scallop is tender and sweet.

To help you digest before the rest, there is a Miso Soup with your sweet shrimp's head. Do what the chef says and scrape out the shell. Mix those bits of mini-meat into the soup, and taste the texture-change. A little shrimp adds a lot of seafood-savor. 

Ikura is still not my favorite, but their preparation is very good; fresh and minimally fishy. 

The Blue Crab Hand Roll is still my fave, and it's crafted with a high-grade, crackly nori. The quality shows.

Always a happy ending with soft, sweet Eel,

And a taste of shrimp-egg Tamago. 

The omakase hasn't changed much - why mess with a good thing? Nothing needs to change at Chitose, and I hope this sweet, family-run restaurant sticks around.

Sushi Chitose - Redondo Beach

You can't go just anywhere for sushi. One wrong turn, one placement of trust in the wrong ungloved hands and you may go everywhere for days.

Cue Sushi Chitose. Cute little restaurant next to a liquor store in a too-small-to-be-a-strip-mall, with an inevitable fight for a spot in a lot that holds no more than ten people who know how to park...how's that for perilous?

Except it wasn't really. I was the only Asian eating there, and I should have know that a restaurant occupying prime real estate on PCH had to be onto something. The food is special, alright. The good kind of special, the "how does this much quality omekase only cost $45?!" kind of special.

We started with the special Monkfish Liver. Creamy, bile-acious slice, as light and fatty as any force-fed fowl.

Judging by the gigantic Hama Oyster that kick-started a long line of omakase, the appetizer is just too much. Now THIS is an OYSTER. Giant and surprisingly light, this one is all brine, like taking a bite of the high-tide surf when a wave pulls you under. It slides down slick and makes the tongue tingle for fish and flesh.

A stark contrast to the oyster, a lean-and-mean Tuna is tender but confident, exerting its solid sophistication.

You don't fully appreciate this fat-fringed Yellowtail without first having the tuna lean and mean. I've had a ton of hamachi but I've never had such a spread of fatty and buttery segments that cover every last nook and cranny with sticky, savory micro-grains flavor.

Salmon isn't really a thing in Japan, it seems, but I'll have it any and every way. This slice is so smooth it slips down and so soft it feels like floating.

The Halibut with shiso is a refreshing break. The snapper is standard, and the shiso gives it a kick, a waxy cross between basil and mint.

Saba is not my thing and this one does it no favors. This chopped boat of sour Mackerel is vinegared much more delicately than the abruptly sour sting to which I have become accustomed. Less abrasive but a bit more forgettable.

I think this one was another hamachi . It's smooth and safe but not a standout in this lineup.

The halibut may not be memorable, but the Amberjack is unforgettable. The fatty flavor is sticky and gooey and coats every micromillimeter of the mouth, pasting the tongue with so much umami, it blows the mind.

The Scallop is tender and sweet, a safe dollop that doesn't disappoint.

It's hard to get excited about a regular shrimp over rice, but the Sweet Shrimp is of the ooey-gooey variety, a sweeter spread.

Fluke with Uni is a texture-clash. Grainy, briny roe bursts over a strip of solids-and-stripes, a crash with an explosion of flavor.

The roe gets bigger with Ikura, busting bubbles of frothy, salty sea.

The Blue Crab Hand Roll turns the ride from salty and savory to sweet. The sweet crab cleanses the palate, a resent button for a rapid re-route to dessert.

The Sea Eel is smooth, so soft it crumbles on the plate. It alights, barely touching down on the tongue, sweeps it up in a flurry of fleeting sweet sauce.

The Tamago is dense yet slightly fluffy, solid and reliable.

You can't take another bite, but you'll make room for some Black Sesame Ice Cream.

The ice cream is a standard scoop, but it's probably the only thing I would describe as standard. The sushi snobs say otherwise, but screw the snobs, Sushi Chitose is truly special. The chefs are clearly skilled, the nigiri makes a subtle splash, and the memory of a meal from this intimate PCH pearl will linger.