The fast-sushi movement that began here in the early 1990s left its imprint on a generation of casual sushi enthusiasts content with a selection of a mere eight to 10 kinds of seafood atop their nigiri, if that. Give them their maguro, unagi and California roll and they’ll go home content. But the sushi connoisseur will be bewildered, wondering where’s the other stuff?

At Kona Kai Sushi, there are 38 selections on the menu, and who knows how many specials might appear on the chef’s daily omakase?

I’ve had stellar sushi at a couple of other sushi restaurants lately, so didn’t find basics of hamachi ($7) or even otoro, fatty tuna belly that reflects its supreme status in its $15 price, any more rave-worthy than elsewhere. But the adventurous will revel in putting their culinary mettle and memories to the test with more novel options, ranging from shimaaji (striped mackerel, $10) to ankimo (monkfish liver), and such seasonal fare as tarabagani (red king crab, $10) and sayori (Japanese half beak, $10).

The izakaya has its own entrance behind Rock Bottom Sports Bar & Grill, across Coyne Street from the former Varsity Theatre. Don’t expect the stylishness of the recent spate of izakaya openings. Kona Kai is inside the rustic gray second-story lanai connected to the rear of the bar, so don’t be surprised if you’re sitting near the Kona Kai entrance and find yourself blocking the path of someone coming through the bar’s glass door.

Izakaya status makes this place more palatable to sushi lovers who have friends who don’t like fish, and whether sushi enthusiasts like it or not, the hot dishes will make it more acceptable to the mainstream.

The cooked appetizers won me over from the start. First up was the glistening, smooth Santa Barbara baby calamari ($10) stuffed with blue crab in a pool of thick, syrupy eel sauce, wasabi and a sprinkling of toasted sesame seeds. We were instructed to enjoy it with just a small dab of the wasabi, and the combination was perfection, with each flavor element asserting itself while contributing to the whole.

Balancing the delicacy of the calamari was the crunch of spicy tuna chips ($6), with the ahi sitting on tempura nori chips.

Diners at a neighboring table mirrored my selections, but while they moved on to crisp soft-shell crab ($12), I didn’t want them to think I was copying them, so while tempted by the Canadian albacore bintoro sashimi with ponzu sauce ($10), I opted for home-style salt-and-pepper fried chicken ($9) served with two aiolis — garlic and spicy — dabbed on the rim of the platter.

Hamachi collars typically served in whole, broiled form, are simmered here in a sweet sake and soy sauce reduction ($6), which was pleasant but eliminated the buttery, fatty appeal.

There’s no mistaking garlic steak ($14) for any other, with the rib eye topped end to end with chopped garlic.

The one dish that disappointed was shrimp tempura. As soon as I saw the small bowl of chopped shrimp, I puzzled over the tobiko and green onions on top, which left the tempura soggy.

As for sushi, nigiri sets start at $10 for a chef’s selection of four pieces, to $50 for the Mauna Kea set of 10 chef’s selections. If you like to know exactly what you’re getting, there are $20 and $30 sets, combining such basics as maguro, hamachi and salmon with one of the house sushi rolls.

On the $30 Ehukai set, it’s the Kona Kai roll ($16 a la carte), which starts with a snow crab California roll layered with spicy tuna and tempura flakes, topped with tobiko and a light touch of pineapple chili sauce.

I also enjoyed negitoro (fatty tuna belly, $8) chopped so fine that it truly melts on your tongue, a sensual experience. Gristle got in the way of fully enjoying otoro, which releases its light telltale ring of fat radiating outward in soy sauce as soon as a spot of it touches down. The staff recommends very little soy sauce to enjoy the flavor of the fish.

For the ultimate in control, this is a place for those who prefer eating sushi with their hands. Even if you don’t, I found rice for the nigiri is so loosely packed it falls apart with a tap of one’s chopstick. No oshibori (hot towel) was offered so consider bringing wipes.

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Nadine Kam’s restaurant reviews are conducted anonymously and paid for by the Star-Advertiser. Reach her at nkam@staradvertiser.com.