Matsugen

Note: Matsugen closed in March 2011, after failing consistently to draw crowds.

*

Jean-Georges Vongerichten really, really, really wants you to visit Matsugen.

The other day, Grub Street ran the feature where it asks a restauranteur to chronicle his eating habits for a week. Among other things, we learned that Jean-Georges Vongerichten always eats dinner at Matsugen on Sundays, but apparently he eats there Tuesdays as well. He does not mention JoJo, Vong, Mercer Kitchen, or Spice Market.

Vongerichten spends most of his time at the flagship, but he’s supposed to be there; and he visited Perry St, where he was testing new recipes. But Matsugen is apparently the only restaurant in his empire where he dines regularly for pleasure. Maybe it’s because when we arrived at 7:00 p.m. on a Friday evening, the staff outnumbered the customers. To be fair, it got a bit busier later on, but it never filled up. On a weekend, that cannot be an encouraging sign.

We’ve written about Matsugen twice before (1, 2), so we’ll go easy on the background. There’s some intermittently compelling food here, and a good meal need not break the bank. Four appetizers (two more than we needed), a bowl of soba apiece and an inexpensive bottle of sake were just $125 before tax and tip. You can do even better if you have the multi-course $35 prix fixe, but we didn’t go that route.

Barachirashi, or raw fish over warm sushi rice ($12; above left) was the highlight of the evening—looking as good as it tasted. I was less impressed with Toro Tataki ($21; above right). When you’re serving premium tuna, it shouldn’t be drowning in gravy.

Meatballs ($7; above left) were a bit dry on the outside, but luscious on the inside. Tempura vegetables ($12; above right) were forgettable.

The Matsugen Special Soba ($16; above) comes with a blizzard of ingredients: scallion, bonito, yam, sesame, okra, wasabi, cucumber, myoga, shiso, egg, nori. It would be refreshing even without the thin, delicate soba noodles.

Ordering at Matsugen is an exercise in frustration, as you never have a sense of how big the plates are, and the servers provide very little guidance—that’s useful, at any rate. I’ve loved the soba dishes every time, but the appetizers aren’t as consistently enjoyable. The space is sterile and charmless, and for the price I think there are more comfortable destinations where the food is equally or even more compelling.

Matsugen (241 Church Street between Leonard & Worth Streets, TriBeCa)

Food: **
Service: *½
Ambiance: Sterile, charmless
Overall: *½

Greenwich Grill & Sushi Azabu

If the owners of Greenwich Grill had asked my advice about their two-headed restaurant concept, I probably would have said, “Don’t bother.” The main dining room offers a mash-up of “Californian, Italian, and traditional French cuisines” refocused through a Japanese lens. You would guess none of this from the name, nor would you likely stumble upon the lightly-trafficked block on which it resides. And if you did walk by, you’d never guess there is a sushi bar downstairs.

Improbably enough, Greenwich Grill is actually worthwhile. A salad of 18-month cured Prosciutto di San Daniele ($12) was cloaked with parmesan and paired with beefy slices of bufola mozzarella. A lunch-sized portion of tilefish ($18) was beautifully done. Blueberry cobbler ($8) took fifteen minutes to cook, but paid off handsomely.

I tried the downstairs sushi bar, Sushi Azabu, several months ago. There is a variety of prix fixe offerings. I had the humblest of these, which set me back all of $50, including tax and tip. At that price, I was obviously not getting their most expensive stuff, but it all seemed carefully prepared. The majority of the patrons that night were Japanese-speaking, so somehow they had found this weirdly inaccessible place.

I was a bit worried when a colleague and I walked in at noon for lunch today, and we had the place to ourselves. By the time we left, they had filled all of six tables. Whatever business they have is due to word of mouth, as critics paid very little attention when it opened last year. Time Out New York awarded four of six stars to the dining room and five of six to the sushi bar. Frank Bruni in the Times was less impressed, awarding just one of four to the sushi bar and ignoring the dining room entirely.

Despite the odd collision of cuisines and concepts, the owners are Japanese, and this is their first New York restaurant. Perhaps this is why they had the folly to try something so strange, which nevertheless is surprisingly enjoyable. It is a quiet, comfortable place, and service is first-rate.

Greenwich Grill/Sushi Azabu (428 Greenwich Street between Vestry & Laight Streets, TriBeCa)

Food: **
Service: **
Ambiance: **
Overall: **

Mr. Jones

Note: Mr. Jones closed in June 2009.

*

It was the day after Thanksgiving, and we wanted something casual. I decided on Mr. Jones, the new Yakitori restaurant on the northern edge of the East Village. If Jones doesn’t sound familiar, you haven’t missed anything: he’s fictitious. What he has to do with Yakitori, or Japanese food served on skewers, utterly eludes me.

Restaurant Girl nailed the décor: George Jetson’s bachelor pad. Someone dropped major coin to build it, but the design betrays some indecision about the mission. The inconspicuous exterior looks like a garage door. Inside, it looks more like a party lounge than a restaurant, with its tightly-packed tiny tables and low-slung chairs. “Japanese” isn’t exactly what comes to mind. I’ve been to a few Yakitori restaurants in Tokyo. They look nothing like this.

Neither do the staff: our server was a busty Brazilian girl, dressed in a low-cut frock. The manager looked like the Russian mafia. The chef, Bryan Emperor, isn’t Japanese either, but he has some serious cred., with stints at Nobu, Megu, Bouley, and a kaiseki restaurant in Japan. His job is more boring than a Maytag repair man’s: we found his restaurant almost totally empty. I hope for his sake that the day after Thanksgiving was atypical.

You can have some fun here. The cocktails are a diverse lot, many of them classics,and well made. Most of the food follows the food-on-skewers theme, though with some ingredients I’ve never seen in Japan, like pork belly, foie gras, and chicken wings. There are some misfires, but most of what we tried was enjoyable.

We spent just $114 for two before tax & tip, and that included two cocktails apiece. At that price, one is loath to complain. Nevertheless, several dishes came out not quite warm enough—an odd mistake, given that we had the place to ourselves.

The small-plates format encourages communal ordering, though some items weren’t well designed for it (e.g., why three meatballs?), and when we asked for plates to divide our food, the little dishes they produced were only slightly larger than a cigar box. Like most small-plate restaurants, the kitchen tosses out the food at whatever pace and in whatever order suits the chef. Sometimes you have nothing, and at other times you have two plates at once.

They were also out of several things, on a small menu of about 35 appetizer-sized items in various categories (chicken, beef, rice, soup…), most of them $10 or less. With some help from our server, we chose eight items to share, which proved to be about right. They were all $5–9 apiece except for the Kobe meatballs, which were $12.

The menu has been changing. Those meatballs were originally listed at $16, and some other items shown on the bill don’t agree with the online version.

Berkshire Black Hog Belly ($5; above left) is usually a safe bet, but this skewer was lukewarm and adorned with not much more than a bit of sea salt. Tori Tatsuta Age ($9; above right), or Japanese style chicken wings, were a hit, with a generous allotment of six to the portion.

Chicken is probably the most authentic of Mr. Jones’s Yakitori ingredients. Naturally, it is “Organic Free Range Chicken,” but when it’s drowning in spicy Yuzu sauce ($7; above left), I doubt its pedigree matters very much. It was actually one of the better items on the menu, in an unsubtle way.

I liked the Kobe Meatballs stuffed with foie gras ($12; above right), though as noted above, it wasn’t easy to divide 3 meatballs among two people.

Wagyu Short Ribs ($8; above left) were tender, and the kitchen wisely went easy on the sauce, letting the superior beef speak for itself. The next item was a bowl of mushrooms and rice ($9; above right) that I don’t recognize in the online menu. The mushrooms were a tad under-cooked.

Vegetable tempura ($8; above left) was perfectly done: six pieces in a light and greaseless tempura batter. Calamari tempura ($8; above right) suffered from an excess of sauce. Any calamari beneath all that batter was undetectable.

There are some slips-ups on the menu at Mr. Jones and some faulty execution in the kitchen, but we enjoyed most of what we tried. With most of the items priced under $10, you don’t feel cheated if one or two of them are less than satisfying. For a diverting bit of fun, Mr. Jones is worth a visit.

Mr. Jones (243 E. 14th Street between 2nd & 3rd Avenues, East Village)

Food: *
Service: *
Ambiance: *
Overall: *

Archipelago

Note: Archipelago closed in December 2008 after about two months in business. Either the space or the food was doomed. Take your pick. The owners claimed they would be re-opening with “an exciting new menu,” but that idea was short-lived.

*

I’m not a believer in “cursed” restaurant spaces, but the new restaurant Archipelago threatens to challenge that view. It occupies the space that was formerly home to the doomed Dani, a pretty good Italian place that couldn’t attract diners to the cavernous gloom of Hudson Square, the dead patch of land west of Varick Street between Houston and Canal Streets. It’s not that a serious restaurant couldn’t draw people to this neighborhood. But it would need to be serving “destination cuisine” — the kind of food people go out of their way for.

Archipelago tries to make the case for Japanese–French fusion cuisine, but it fails. The chef here is Hisanobu Osaka, who was the sous chef at Morimoto. With such a pedigree, who’d have thought the food would be so awful? Maybe we just missed the boat, but this was the most mediocre meal we’ve had in quite some time—a real disaster at the price. Can an Eater Deathwatch be far off?

The menu is divided into three sections, not counting dessert: starters ($12–18), mains ($20–32) and shokuji—rice dishes—to conclude ($10). The server advised ordering one of each. This is wise, in that the mains are practically appetizer-sized; but also unwise, as you’ll probably be wishing you were somewhere else by the time the last course arrives.

Many of the items have French-sounding names but Japanese-sounding ingredients, such as Côte de Boeuf with Yuzu Foam or Carré d’Agneau with Japanese eggplant. Despite occasional nods to France, the “feel” of the restaurant is mostly Japanese, and a majority of the patrons seemed to be Asians.

 

Cannelloni ($14; above left) sounded better than it turned out. Cold crabmeat was plated lazily between two cold sheets of cauliflower pasta, with a bland avocado purée on the side and a bizarre crabmeat mini-sandwich at the top of the plate. Crevettes et Canard ($13; above right) offered poached shrimp and smoked duck, both of which tasted like they’d been in the fridge for a week.

 

A dish called Sake ($20; above left) is pan-seared salmon with a tasty tomato and lemon confit under the skin. This was the only dish we had all evening that we liked. It was actually a respectable hunk of fish, skillfully prepared, albeit looking a little lonely on the plate. Côte de Boeuf ($32; above right) may look impressive with yuzu foam on the top, but under the foam were just a few wan slices of cold beef that tasted like the London Broil they serve at a Bar Mitzvah.

 

Risotto ($10: above left) was alleged to contain toro, but it tasted merely like slightly over-cooked rice. But that was a gourmet experience compared with Oshi Zushi, or “pressed sushi” ($10; above right), which seemed to be a salmon paste slathered onto hunks of chalky rice.

At least the sake was comparatively inexpensive. Bottles of Tamano Hikiri were $30 apiece, and after two of them the food here almost seemed decent. I say “almost.” Dinner for two was $172 including tax, but before tip.

The space has been lightly redone since the Dani days. It is rather sterile and charmless. The restaurant was only about 3/4 full at prime time on a Saturday evening, which does not bode well for its success. Despite the rather low degree of difficulty in the dishes we tried, the food took a long time to come out. It wasn’t worth the wait.

Archipelago (333 Hudson Street between Charlton & Vandam Streets, Hudson Square)

Food: Mediocre
Service: Friendly but too slow
Ambiance: Dull
Overall: Mediocre

Masa

For almost five years, I’ve been wondering…watching…waiting. Masa was there, beckoning, but I knew the expense was staggering—more than most Americans pay for rent. Last week, finally, I decided it was time.

The restaurant is named for Masa Takayama, who five years ago closed his famed Los Angeles sushi temple, Ginza Sushiko, and joined Thomas Keller to anchor the Time-Warner Center’s “Restaurant Collection.” Masa and Keller’s Per Se lived up to the hype, with eight New York Times stars and five Michelin stars between them. Other restauranteurs at the venue weren’t so lucky (Jean-Georges Vongerichten, Gray Kunz), or failed to open at all (Charlie Trotter).

The format here is a three-hour omakase—meaning you’re in the chef’s hands. The cost? It was $300 when Amanda Hesser reviewed it for the Times in 2004, had risen to $350 six months later, when Frank Bruni awarded four stars, and is now $450—assuming you don’t order the Kobe beef, which carries a $100 supplement (we took a pass). Even with a modest alcohol order, dinner for two, including the automatic 20% service charge, was $1,285, including tax.

The cost of high-end sushi is surreal. The most exclusive imported fish is expensive no matter where you have it. The omakase at Kurumazushi, which I reviewed two weeks ago, was about the same price, but a lot of the items seemed similar to one another. What is astonishing at Masa is the sheer variety. At Kurumazushi, though, we were served massive chunks of fatty tuna. Masa slices the rare fish into thin slivers.

There are just 26 seats—10 at the sushi bar (made from a single slab of hinoki wood) and 16 at the tables. We chose the bar—always a better experience at a sushi restaurant—and were fortunate enough to be at Chef Takayama’s station. There were two other sushi chefs at the counter; and behind them, two more preparing hot dishes on a grill.

When we arrived, Chef Takayama was in the midst of dismembering a hunk of toro that must have weighed thirty pounds. With a knife sharp enough to shave a mosquito, he patiently peeled apart layer after layer of flesh, separated by thin cartilage membranes. The amount of waste was considerable, though the parts not fit to be served as sushi disappeared into the kitchen, aparently to be used for some other purpose.

Masa is camera-shy, and we didn’t want to encumber our meal with note-taking. As we reconstructed the meal afterwards, we counted at least 25 items, and it may even have been a bit more than that. There were about a half-dozen appetizers, followed by wave upon wave of sushi.

The appetizers were all wonderful, but perhaps the most startling was cold sea bass with chrysanthemum—we actually ate the flower along with the fish. Another winner was a diced fish still in its own skin, with vegetables and spices: “Eat it all,” Takayama advised. The other appetizers included a crab salad, toro with caviar, truffle risotto with sea urchin, and miso soup.

A list of the sushi courses is practicaly a Who’s Who of the sea: toro, fluke, mackerel, clam, octopus, scallop, eel, shrimp, sea urchin, squid, herring—and for several of these, more than one kind. Most of the time, Takayama molds a small wedge of rice, applies a dab of wasabi, lays a slice of fish on top, paints it with soy sauce, then places it on your plate, or if it is too delicate, hands it to you directly.

Occasionally, he varies that pattern. One piece came wrapped in a cucumber skin, another in a shiso leaf. One course was a shitake mushroom; another was white truffle. A few items came from the hot station: the chef seared one piece of fish with a hot poker before serving it. Late in the meal, Takayama produced a carcass that looked like it could be a baby lamb’s rib cage. He scraped off some meat and served it to us: “Tuna bone,” he said.

Dessert was a simple bowl of grapefruit granité, which seemed like an anti-climax to the sushi theatrics.

Wine (nearly all white) is served by the bottle, sake by the carafe. Compared to the price of the food, it was pretty reasonable. Three different sakes—admittedly, some of the lower priced ones—were only $101 total, which isn’t bad when the food was $900.

The service team operates quietly and efficiently, setting and clearing so smoothly that you almost don’t realize they’re there. Serving pieces (different for each course) are practically works of art in themselves.

Masa is clearly not a populist experience. At its extravagant price, it clearly cannot be. Yet, even in these tough economic times the restaurant appeared to be doing strong business—though it was not full. We could never be regulars here, but for one night we were happy to invest in Masa’s one-of-a-kind splendor. I can’t compare it to anything in Japan, but here in New York, Masa is without peer.

Masa (Time-Warner Center, 10 Columbus Circle, 4th floor)

Cuisine: Japanese/sushi, as fancy and pricy as they come
Service: So quiet and efficient, you practically don’t realize they’re there
Ambiance: A serene oasis of calm

Rating: ★★★★

Matsugen

Note: Matsugen closed in March 2011, after failing consistently to draw crowds. Click here for a more recent review.

*

Last week, a colleague invited me to Matsugen, which I reviewed previously in July. Since then, Matsugen received three stars from Frank Bruni, a judgment that seemed then, and still seems, overly generous.

Mind you, Matsugen is a very good restaurant. As Bruni notes, it doesn’t pander to Western sensibilities—unlike some of Jean-Georges Vongerichten’s other Asian restaurants. But the awful ambiance and an uneven menu are serious drawbacks. My colleague, who has sampled a good cross-section of New York’s better restaurants, said, “I’m finding it hard to believe this got three stars.”

We planned to share two or three appetizers and then finish with soba. One of our choices was the Crab and Japanese Mushroom with Rice in an earthenware pot. The server warned that this is made from scratch and would take 45 minutes. She advised us to order a plate of mixed pickles as a stop-gap. Despite her advice, the pickles came first—and it was altogether too much food. Just like gullible tourists, we had been “upsold.”

Anyhow, the plate of mixed pickles (above left) was very good, but entirely unnecessary. My colleague was eager to try the pork belly (above right), which had a faint barbecue taste. It was great, but even for two people it was a very large portion, given that pork belly is almost pure fat.

Salmon belly (above left) is a recent addition to the menu. Despite the name, the dish seemed to be indistinguishable from any other grilled salmon you’ve ever tasted, but it was a bit too greasy. Crabs, mushrooms and rice in an earthenware pot (above right) had a strong, earthy flavor, though after a 45-minute wait I expected more of a payoff.

These are all large dishes, and we were full at this point. We had over-ordered.

But soba was coming. We probably would have enjoyed it more if we had ordered half the number of appetizers. I had the Duck Soup with Inaka noodles (above left). These were the coarsest noodles available, the same as I had last time. Cold noodles with warm duck soup didn’t float my boat; your mileage may vary. The duck seemed over-cooked and flavorless.

I believe my colleage had the Kitchen Sink soba—no, they don’t really call it that—but it was chock full of just about every ingredient they offer, with a fried egg on top. He said it was good, but he left an awful lot of it unfinished, citing a full stomach.

I left Matsugen less impressed than last time. I have to add that the menu is a long one, and I am sure there are many gems here. But even with the servers’ patient explanations, it is a lot to navigate, and the format lends itself to over-ordering.

Matsugen (241 Church Street between Leonard & Worth Streets, TriBeCa)

Food: **
Service: *½
Ambiance: Not much
Overall: *½

Kurumazushi

What is New York’s best sushi restaurant? The debate usually comes down to Sushi Yasuda and Kurumazushi. An eGullet thread comparing the two is six years old, and still running, without a clear consensus. I had a terrific omakase at Yasuda two years ago, but I was still itching to try Kuruma on the right occasion. A friend of mine who loves sushi had just celebrated a birthday, so I thought the time had come.

The fish here is obviously very good, but the overall experience wasn’t as enjoyable as Yasuda. I will probably return to Yasuda at some point, but I can’t imagine going back to Kurumazushi, unless someone else is paying.

I didn’t bring a camera or take notes, but our meal was quite similar to those many others have written about. We loved the fatty tuna, served in ample portions—how could you not?—and a few other things. Other courses started tasting the same after a while. If the fish here was better than Yasuda, it was too subtle for my friend and me to perceive. The Yasuda omakase actually seemed to have more variety.

Then, there is the small matter of price. Except it’s not so small a matter. I was prepared for the omakase to cost somewhere around $150–200 a head. We weren’t shown a menu or asked about our budget, so I just figured it would be in that general range. Silly me. The bill arrived, and it was $1,005 for two. Back out the sales tax and subtract the sake ($150), and it appears we were charged $387 apiece for the food. That sake, by the way, wasn’t a splurge either, by this restaurant’s standards. I believe I saw only one bottle less than the $150 I spent.

A thousand bucks is awful lot to charge somebody without giving any kind of notice of what you’re in for. As best I can recall, it’s the most I have ever paid for a meal for two. Even on a straight-up basis, I think I liked Yasuda a little more. When you consider that the bill for one at Yasuda was just $107 two years ago, it’s not hard to decide which is better.

I do a lot of research before choosing a restaurant—especially when I’m visiting for an occasion. My research obviously wasn’t good enough this time. Since I posted on this meal at eGullet, a few folks have mentioned that, indeed, if you say “omakase” and nothing more, two people are liable to spend a thousand bucks, or something thereabouts. I simply had no idea that this was their default offering. I cannot be the first person to have gone home feeling cheated.

The restaurant is on the second floor of an office building. The interior is spare and not especially luxurious. I like Yasuda’s blonde wood better. Service was attentive, as it damned well ought to have been, but nothing more that I would expect at sushi places charging a quarter of the price.

Kurumazushi (7 E. 47th Street between Fifth & Madison Avenues, East Midtown)

Food: **
Service: **
Ambiance: **
Overall: **

Matsugen

 

Note: Matsugen closed in March 2011, after failing consistently to draw crowds. Click here and here for more recent visits reviews.

*

Matsugen, which opened about a month ago in TriBeCa, is Jean-Georges Vongerichten’s latest Manhattan restaurant. It replaces 66, which I sort of liked, but which died a slow, natural death, and closed last year.

Vongerichten has had a long love affair with Asian Cuisine. Vong and Spice Market are both Thai-inspired, 66 was Chinese. At Matsugen, it’s Japanese. But at those earlier restaurants, Vongerichten was the nominal chef, even if he paid little attention to them after they opened. At Matsugen, the Matsushita brothers are running the kitchen. The only things Vongerichten supplied were the space and the chocolate cake recipe. Funnily enough, he wrote a blog post about dining at Matsugen, as if he were an ordinary customer.

An almost inconspicuous sign outside reads “Soba Cuisine,” but while there certainly is soba here, there’s a lot more, at a wide range of prices: appetizers ($6–65), salads ($8–39), tempura ($12–22), grilled items ($20–135), shabu-shabu ($52–160), rice dishes ($32–45), hot & cold soba ($14–36), sushi & sashimi à la carte ($4–10), and rolls ($5–12). To be fair, the higher-end prices are for luxury items like Wagyu beef, fatty tuna, and sea urchin. Typical prices are nearer the lower end of each range. Still, this has to be called a luxury restaurant.

So it’s hard to avoid the fact that the décor is rather charmless and ugly. I deliberately didn’t try to find the best angle. The photo (left) was the view from my table: an unadorned industrial column, white walls, spare tables, plain banquettes. Restaurant 66 wasn’t a beauty, but I don’t remember it being this barren. Maybe my memory is deceiving me.

The staff aren’t any more stylish than the space, but they are knowledgeable. When I asked about something to drink, I got a course in Sake 101. The explanation of the soba dishes rose to a graduate-level seminar. As I was alone, I didn’t really mind the explanation. But it does underscore the potential to be overwhelmed by the menu here.

Fortunately, when the food arrives your patience is repaid—maybe enough to make you forget the grim surroundings.

 

Sliced chilled asparagus was cool and crisp, but it was $15 for a small portion. An eel–cucumber roll ($8) was uncomplicated, but beautifully done. There was a nice contrast between the warm rice and the cold cucumber. The soft, fresh-ground wasabi put to shame the clumpy version of it that most sushi places serve.

That left the main event, Soba Goma Dare ($16), one of the simpler soba items on the menu. The noodles at Matsugen are offered three different ways, with a variety of accompaniments. I chose the darkest, huskiest noodles, served cold. They had a lively, bracing flavor that is difficult to describe.

A server brought over a funky-looking teapot (right) containing the hot broth that the noodles were supposedly cooked in. I was instructed to pour this broth into the bowl in which the noodles and condiments had been dipped (lower left of the photo above), and to drink it like a soup. This was the highlight of the meal, with all of those terrific flavors floating together in one bowl.

After $14 for a small carafe of sake (served in a bamboo box), this fairly modest dinner was $53 before tax and tip. As everything I ordered was near the low end of the range, it’s safe to say that most meals here will cost a lot more. Any Vongerichten restaurant is bound to attract plenty of attention, but I have to wonder if such an expensive, yet ugly, restaurant will be able to build up a loyal fan base. I’ll probably be back, but not on a regular basis.

Matsugen (241 Church Street between Leonard & Worth Streets, TriBeCa)

Food: **
Service: **
Ambiance: Are negative stars allowed?
Overall: *½

15 East

 

15 East is the Japanese restaurant that blossomed out of the old Tocqueville space, when co-owners Marco Moreira and Jo-Ann Makovitzky moved that Union Square standout two years ago to larger digs down the block. The odd-shaped room always seemed too small for Tocqueville—the owners obviously thought so too—but in its new guise it seems just about right.

The front room, which formerly housed Tocqueville’s bar, now has a sushi bar. The layout isn’t ideal, since guests waiting to be seated hang out in the same room, but the bar seating appeared to be comfortable. As there were four of us, we were seated in the main dining room, which has been attractively re-decorated. We had the restaurant to ourselves when we arrived at 6:00 p.m. on a Tuesday evening, but the space was mostly full a couple of hours later.

The menu offers a wide range of appetizers ($6–22) and a smaller selection of entrées ($24–45). Sushi ranges from $4–12 per piece, rolls $5–18. Omakases and tasting menus range from $55–120.

The composed appetizers and main courses may even be more compelling here than the sushi. The amuse-bouche was a terrific spring pea tofu (right). We followed it up with the slow-poached octopus ($12; below left) that was the highlight in Frank Bruni’s two-star review.

Servers told Bruni that the octopus was “massaged 500 times.” We didn’t know that, but perhaps it explains the terrific fatty taste that reminded me of pork belly.

 

Tuna tartare ($22; above right) is the most expensive appetizer, but the kitchen throws a party in its honor, spraying the plate with a spice confetti.

 

The entry-level omakase offers ten pieces of sushi or sashimi for $55 (above left). For a party of four businessmen, the chef sends out safe choices. The rice was warm and each piece was individually seasoned, but you’ll probably have a more interesting meal if you order pieces individually, or order one of the more expensive tasting menus. One of our party did not want raw fish, so he ordered the Wild Salmon Five Ways ($26, above right), which he seemed pleased with.

The service here is more accomplished and elegant than at most mid-level Japanese restaurants. There was a hint of upselling, but the captain’s ordering advice was sound, and he picked a fine sake to go along with our meal.

15 East (15 East 15th Street between Fifth Avenue and Union Square)

Food: **
Service: **
Ambiance: **
Overall: **

Blue Ribbon Sushi Bar & Grill

I dropped by Blue Ribbon Sushi Bar & Grill the other day for a snack. A pulled pork appetizer from the daily specials list, at $12.25, was impressive. I didn’t note the details, but it was essentially a cross between American barbecue and miso soup.

I was seated at the end of the sushi bar, where a huge fish head was staring at me. Initially, I wasn’t sure if it was real, but it surely was. Periodically, a chef would pour a bucket of ice cubes into the mouth—without which it would turn foul in a hurry.

 

Service was a little helter-skelter, as one expects in this type of restaurant. I wasn’t impressed the last time I visited, but the pulled pork appetizer persuaded me that perhaps Blue Ribbon Sushi is worthy of more attention.

Blue Ribbon Sushi Bar & Grill (308 W. 58th Street in the Thompson Hotel, 6 Columbus Circle)