Misso

One of Misso's servers (who, unfortunately, has since left the restaurant) made a number of clever suggestions to enhance our meal, like steeping our cold sake (a Junmai Ginjo called Shikaiou "Thing") with shredded cucumber, a subtle twist that actually refined the drink. Combining tempura ice cream with deep-fried bananas for a "tempura split" was another playful improvisation.

But it was a recomendation for the uni-unagi nigiri that was a revelation. The creamy ribbon of urchin sandwiched between sweet eel and a pad of firm rice is one of the best "gateway bites" I've found for intermediate sushi eaters who want to be more daring.

There is plenty here for non-adventure eaters, too, like the crisply tempura-fried vegetables, shrimp (and soft-shell crabs) cloaked in a translucent batter. And the chicken and pork katsu cutlets, which are superbly tender and moist beneath their delicate crusts. The broiled salmon "shio yaki" is simplicity at its height, the pink flesh crackling with a salty micro-crust that is just perfect dipped in citrusy soy ponzu.

Misso's teriyaki is also a solid bet, thanks to a gingery sauce patiently steeped from broth, onions and sake that is deep but not too sweet. It's great over the steak, which was tender, though a shade overcooked. But the most memorable variation was the beef negimaki, thin slices of sirloin rolled around a core of crunchy scallions. Sliced into tubes and stood on end, they look like the carnivore's reply to a California roll.

It sounds like such a simple pleasure in a city now awash in new Japanese kitchens. But Misso is one of the few that actually get it right.