If I had worried that the big move had stolen Fuji's magic, the shabu-shabu banished my fears.
It wasn't simply those precious slices of velvety Japanese Kobe beef (not that cheaper, more common American strain), which gently simmered in a bowl of pristine kelp broth alongside perfect bundles of tender veggies. It was the bowl itself - a piece of white paper folded origami-style into a vessel - that sat atop the heat of a licking flame unperturbed and unsinged.
Of course, this was wonder number seven in a parade of nine impressive courses that made up chef Masaharu "Matt" Ito's signature kaiseki tasting. And I was pretty certain earlier on, somewhere between the caviar-crowned tuna tartare in smoked dashi broth and the seared scallop with foie gras and duck posed over a sunburst of kabocha pumpkin puree, that Fuji's mojo was intact.
But I worry about such things, like whether a restaurant's spirit can be damaged when its unlikely-but-lucky home of 27 years - a little brick hut on seedy Route 130 surrounded by hourly rate motels - got bulldozed to make way for a housing development.
After a couple of spectacular meals (despite a few service nits) at its new location in higher-brow Haddonfield, it's clear that Fuji's greatness resides safely in the heart of its artisan chef.
The 54-year-old Ito, long one of the region's most unsung and modest kitchen masters, has inched a bit closer to the limelight here, though his space in the rear of a Kings Highway mini-mall retains a morsel of obscure mystique.
It feels like a homecoming to Ito, who commuted Kings Highway daily as a young man on his way to Sagami in Collingswood, where he worked the sushi counter in the late '70s. And he has made the most of his new address, outfitting a comfortable 68-seat space with an austerely natural but pretty look of varnished bamboo walls, trickling water sculptures, and a polished sushi bar hewn from a single slab of wild Allentown mountain maple. (A curtain to cover the open coat closet near the entrance, though, would make it feel more finished.)
But Fuji's draw was never really about ambience or service. And the service still needs polish, judging from the blank looks our friendly and relatively efficient waiter gave us when we ordered sushi in Japanese. ("I'm Chinese; speak English please!")
The real reason to visit Fuji is simply to eat, because the kitchen creates some of the most authentic and expertly crafted Japanese cooking in the region.
