To many people, Kiss Seafood is the ultimate sushi experience. I have read so many rave reviews, I can barely remember them all, and so it was with baited breath that Mr. Food Musings and I met there last night.
The dining room is t-i-n-y -- there are but 3 tables and 5 seats at the sushi bar. But it's not a suffocating closeness; rather, it feels cozy, and watching a new guest arrive has the air of sitting on the upstairs landing in your footed pajamas, mesmerized by the parade of people at your parents' cocktail party. Many -- most, in fact -- of last night's diners were Japanese. Several were also loaded up with cameras: one, a humongous digital affair with an enormous flash and a lens as long as an elephant trunk; another, a small, pocket-sized job that was used to shoot photos of Naka-san, the sushi chef and owner, who works quietly behind the bar, greeting customers when they leave and occasionally sipping from his glass of beer. I heard him tell one couple that he starts work at 9 a.m and finishes at midnight, every day but Monday and one Sunday each month, plus a month of annual vacation that he takes to go skiing in Colorado.
We ordered the Chef's Special Omikase ($60), 6 courses of the chef's choice. I asked what the difference was between the regular omikase ($42) and the special, and was told that it was the quality of sashimi and sushi. We knew we wanted toro, so we splurged. There is Japanese beer and a wide selection of sake, but no wine. Mr. FM and I each ordered a glass of sake, which was refilled at our request throughout the night, and we both enjoyed our selections. Mine was "kaiun" and our waitress described it as a medium sake. I loved it, and sipped far more than I planned.
I'm a bit shy on details, but we started with an amuse bouche of a small tangle of daikon sprouts and black seaweed. Sweet, crunchy, delicious. Next was a dish in three parts that puts Michael Mina to shame: a miso salad with Asian pear; two slices of cold eggplant that was the dark purple of a bruise. Our waitress said it had been deep-fried, but it seemed more pickled to me (her English was good but imperfect, so perhaps something was lost in translation.) Either way, it was my favorite thing of the evening. The final bite in the trio was a solid cube of soft tofu and ginger. All three were different, brightly flavorful, succinct.
Next up?
~ sashimi: halibut, sweet shrimp, toro, amberjack, giant clam, and tai snapper. When our waitress set it down, Mr. FM nearly gasped, "Is that fresh wasabi?" But of course it was. The fish was undoubtedly the freshest, most pristine I've ever had, and the tuna toro was soft as a whisper. The only thing I didn't care for was the giant clam -- it was so briny, it put me off. So Mr. FM got a double dose.
~ a tower of tofu, fish, Napa cabbage and a chunk of daikon radish in a small sea of sauce. Everything was perfectly cooked and the flavors, while distinct, worked beautifully as a team. Mr. FM used his miniature wooden spoon to lap up the sweet, caramel-like sauce.
~ chawan mushi: an ethereal egg custard in broth with three Manila clams on top and white fish waiting for our spoons beneath the custard. I can't imagine a more perfect food on a cold wintry day.
~ sushi: marinated tuna, wild salmon, toro, a Japanese fish similar to a sardine ("no translation," smiled our waitress) and tai snapper. A repeat performance of the sashimi, with the fish so fresh I almost expected it to flop a time or two before settling down. I consider myself, if not a salmon connoisseur, at least a big-time lover, and so I order it at every sushi restaurant. This was the best, hand's down. It was a deep, brilliant red. Taste aside, all of the fish also smelled and looked better than anything else I've ever eaten.
~ miso soup: If that was miso soup, then all the other restaurants in town are obviously ladling out nothing but dirty water. Rich, piping hot and the color of deep amber, this soup was earthy, but neither muddled nor salty.
We floated out of there after a few bites of the lushest, sweetest honeydew melon this earth has ever grown.
My only quibble -- and I do have one -- is the price. I'm not that sure it's a bad value, per se, and I realize that good, clean, fresh fish is expensive, but it was undeniably expensive. Walking out of there, barely-to-not-quite-full and $200 lighter is definitely something that makes you go hmmm.... But there is no denying the quality of the food, the service, the sake, or the evening. Origato, Naka-san, see you again soon.
***
Kiss Sushi, 1700 Laguna (at Sutter), 415.474.2866
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