Sushi bar produces rich experience

The farm-to-table ideal that permeates current sustainable dining philosophy has been adapted for the sushi bar through the vision of Sushi Sho chef Keiji Naka­zawa.

Although Nakazawa has been acknowledged as one of Tokyo’s most influential sushi chefs, due to his mastery of ancient Edo sushi techniques, that doesn’t mean he’s locked into tradition.

Far from serving up a dull, old-school menu, this Tokyo import is carving out a new niche. Nakazawa combines as much locally sourced fish and shellfish as possible, with such locally grown produce as luau leaves, taro and Maui onions for a vibrant, creative and progressive experience, making Sushi Sho — in the newly opened Ritz-Carlton Residences Waikiki — the new must-stop for all who claim to be sushi connoisseurs.

Oh, and that will cost you $300 per person, plus tax and tip, and whatever you care to spend on sake, beer and wine. Even if you can only afford to go once, it is well worth the cost for an exclusive experience limited to two seatings of 10 per night, Mondays to Saturdays. Bookings are filling up fast, given the coming holiday season, when more people are willing to pay for a festive outing.

The limited capacity ensures that each guest is accorded the chefs’ personalized attention for a very special omakase comprising about 30 items. In this intimate arena, sushi literally takes center stage. The 10 seats are arranged in a semicircle around chefs preparing course after course of exquisite sushi.

That said, this experience is not for the finicky, squeamish diner. Omakase, which means “chef’s choice,” gives the chef the liberty to serve whatever he believes is best that day, so be ready to sample anything from basic maguro and salmon, to monkfish liver and sweet morsels of raw lobster stirred with its tomalley (liver and pancreas).

I feel lucky to have gotten in, because reservations have been somewhat difficult to secure. You must have a little patience, because credit card-secured reservations are being taken only between 2 and 4 p.m. Mondays to Saturdays.

I didn’t know what to expect once I sat down, but I approach each restaurant with an open mind and willingness to surrender to the moment. I had no idea how many courses were involved.

If I’d known I would be eating more than 30 pieces, I would have been very worried. At most sushi bars, I eat about six pieces before filling up on the jumbo blocks of rice. There was a point toward the end of this meal when I started feeling full and wondered how long the chef could go on, but the smaller fingers of red vinegar rice, an Edo specialty, made it easy to keep going, and the surprise factor with each morsel kept me focused on what was to come, rather than my tightening belt.

One of the most interesting selections was fermented moi, prserved in ancient Edo style, buried under vinegared rice. I’m grateful for refrigeration.

Preparations were kept simple for the most part, allowing diners to focus on the natural flavors of such seafood selections as a pair of Miyagi and Kumamoto oysters from Washington state, splashed with mild dashi and a hint of yuzu.

The local kicked in with the next dish, an arranged three-piece “poke” featuring onaga with essence of macadamia nuts and soy sauce, banana leaf-smoked salmon, and ahi with freshly grated wasabi, which is milder than the colored paste of horseradish and mustard that passes for the real deal here. Arrive early enough, and you’ll see the chefs beginning their prep by grating the fresh wasabi roots.

Fish topping nigiri ranged from chutoro and white salmon to hapupu, a Hawaiian grouper known as hata in Japan. Other bites included a baby squid ring filled with sushi rice and minced hearts of palm, and I loved the sweet slices of shiro mirugai, or white giant clam. Two pieces were not enough, but an experience like this leaves you with an appreciation for the moment and the beautiful memory that lingers long after the meal is over.

Another dish unique to this restaurant was a “laulau” of salmon and opah skin wrapped in a delicate sheet of luau leaf, served over an asparagus sauce and topped with a light vinegar jelly that had soaked into the fish by the time I finished taking a photo. All along, the chefs urged me to finish the bites as quickly as possible for optimal flavor.

The meal’s second half brought more intensity, starting with grilled opah brightened with pearls of finger lime; followed by sushi of sweet Santa Barbara uni; then sushi of sama wrapped in nori with cucumber, onion and pickled ginger; and aji, or horse mackerel nigiri topped with a dollop of chopped green onions.

Chawanmushi was heavenly, the texture of the egg custard blending nicely with a layer of uni, punctuated by slices of Kona abalone and American caviar. Many people have asked me what I would want my last meal to be, and I’ve never had a satisfying answer. Now I think this would be it.

More dishes followed, leading to a dessert choice of various ice creams and sorbets, but I opted to linger in the Tokyo mindset with kazuki, a bowl of glassy arrowroot noodles in a bowl of ice with kuromitsu, a black sugar syrup. I would have liked to linger, but I was at the first seating, and a new show was about to begin.