Tuesday, June 23, 2009
It's All About the Fusion...
From its name and architecture, you would never have guessed that RuKasu serves sushi. At least not until you catch the words “Japanese Fusion” below the name.
Driving down Ventura Boulevard one evening, I whizzed past this stately palace whose building style was clearly Russian, but whose signage denoted Japanese cuisine. Valet parking attendants who might as well have been tending to horse-drawn troikas waited outside the entrance of this twinkly-lit, fairytale-like fortress; even the palm trees in the background seemed to have more of a sense of belonging.
Perhaps this is another fine example of L.A.’s potential for fusion, I thought; be it food or culture and even architecture, our complex melting pot never ceases to show its capacity for crossovers. I made a mental note: Must come back to eat Japanese at Russian-palace RuKasu.
A few days later, I returned to the vicinity. The thing about outstanding buildings is that they stand out, making them easier to find the second time around. I stepped into an elevator at the left side of the building and was lifted to the next floor, enveloped by predominately red lighting and…Russian music? I soon found myself in the lobby area of what looked to be a restaurant/lounge for raucous Ruskies. A Russian singer entertained a rowdy crowd as everyone clapped and clapped and—
I consulted the pile of business cards on the front desk: This wasn’t RuKasu, but their neighbor Romanov. It seemed to fit the architecture, anyhow. I learned that RuKasu, in the center of this unique building, is actually flanked by Romanov and a business called Valley Eye Professionals.
The name was explained shortly enough. Rob Lucas RuKasu, co-owner and former chef at Koi of West Los Angeles, had decided it was time to fulfill his dream of opening a restaurant. Inside, the cool and tranquil ambience is a great contrast to the riotous atmosphere of the upstairs scene.
Still pretty new to the Valley’s ongoing sushi bar war, RuKasu has hope for it yet. The simplistic yet indulgent menu seems to distill the essence of three major Japanese restaurants: Katsu-Ya, Asanebo and Sushi Roku (perhaps due to the similar dishes it offers, such as the Baked Crab Roll and the Spicy Rock Shrimp Roll).
In my opinion, the Spicy Rock Shrimp Roll should come with avocado, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t ask for it on the side. I ordered the soy paper-wrapped specialty as a hand roll for $6 (it is not available as a cut roll, according to the menu). Moments before that crunchy love-at-first-bite moment, I had a hunch it would put Sushi Roku’s version to shame. Perhaps this is because RuKasu’s brims with masago and spicy mayonnaise, unlike the drier, plainer version at Roku; and perhaps it was a newbie chef at Roku that day, who hadn’t really meant to flood my hand roll with Sri Racha sauce which seeped through the mamenori when I asked for extra spicy sauce, at which moment I vowed never to return….
I grunted my approval and moved onto the Baked Crab hand roll for $5 (it is $8 if you order it as a cut roll). And this is the item that is highly reminiscent of one of Katsu-Ya’s most popular rolls of the same name. There are subtle nuances that hint at a different taste; you can tell it’s not Katsu-Ya’s, perhaps because it’s not as blackened from the bake in the good burnt food way, but it’s definitely a winner. Somehow it’s more buttery and soft, without being overly oily and cloying.
Driving down Ventura Boulevard one evening, I whizzed past this stately palace whose building style was clearly Russian, but whose signage denoted Japanese cuisine. Valet parking attendants who might as well have been tending to horse-drawn troikas waited outside the entrance of this twinkly-lit, fairytale-like fortress; even the palm trees in the background seemed to have more of a sense of belonging.
Perhaps this is another fine example of L.A.’s potential for fusion, I thought; be it food or culture and even architecture, our complex melting pot never ceases to show its capacity for crossovers. I made a mental note: Must come back to eat Japanese at Russian-palace RuKasu.
A few days later, I returned to the vicinity. The thing about outstanding buildings is that they stand out, making them easier to find the second time around. I stepped into an elevator at the left side of the building and was lifted to the next floor, enveloped by predominately red lighting and…Russian music? I soon found myself in the lobby area of what looked to be a restaurant/lounge for raucous Ruskies. A Russian singer entertained a rowdy crowd as everyone clapped and clapped and—
I consulted the pile of business cards on the front desk: This wasn’t RuKasu, but their neighbor Romanov. It seemed to fit the architecture, anyhow. I learned that RuKasu, in the center of this unique building, is actually flanked by Romanov and a business called Valley Eye Professionals.
The name was explained shortly enough. Rob Lucas RuKasu, co-owner and former chef at Koi of West Los Angeles, had decided it was time to fulfill his dream of opening a restaurant. Inside, the cool and tranquil ambience is a great contrast to the riotous atmosphere of the upstairs scene.
Still pretty new to the Valley’s ongoing sushi bar war, RuKasu has hope for it yet. The simplistic yet indulgent menu seems to distill the essence of three major Japanese restaurants: Katsu-Ya, Asanebo and Sushi Roku (perhaps due to the similar dishes it offers, such as the Baked Crab Roll and the Spicy Rock Shrimp Roll).
In my opinion, the Spicy Rock Shrimp Roll should come with avocado, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t ask for it on the side. I ordered the soy paper-wrapped specialty as a hand roll for $6 (it is not available as a cut roll, according to the menu). Moments before that crunchy love-at-first-bite moment, I had a hunch it would put Sushi Roku’s version to shame. Perhaps this is because RuKasu’s brims with masago and spicy mayonnaise, unlike the drier, plainer version at Roku; and perhaps it was a newbie chef at Roku that day, who hadn’t really meant to flood my hand roll with Sri Racha sauce which seeped through the mamenori when I asked for extra spicy sauce, at which moment I vowed never to return….
I grunted my approval and moved onto the Baked Crab hand roll for $5 (it is $8 if you order it as a cut roll). And this is the item that is highly reminiscent of one of Katsu-Ya’s most popular rolls of the same name. There are subtle nuances that hint at a different taste; you can tell it’s not Katsu-Ya’s, perhaps because it’s not as blackened from the bake in the good burnt food way, but it’s definitely a winner. Somehow it’s more buttery and soft, without being overly oily and cloying.
More Than a Mouthful
The Crispy Rice with Spicy Tuna and Jalapeno, which also conjures up memories from Katsu-Ya (although this trendy dish is appearing more and more on the menus of restaurants everywhere), is a visual banquet with the decorative purple flower in its center. And this flourish brings me back to Koi, where a sushi roll known as the SSC (Sauteed Shrimp on California Roll) is presented in the same fashion. It’s yet another crossover, the beautiful by-product of interchanged ideas as sushi chefs migrate and cross-pollinate their art form. While it may appear simple, RuKasu’s version of this dish is actually dynamite-hot, with a creeper effect to the spiciness that doesn’t hit you until you’ve taken several bites.
For good measure, I was treated to samples of the “818” roll, an amalgamation of albacore, spicy tuna and fried onion. But it was the gratuitous piece of ono sushi with cucumber slush on top that got me. It’s not on the menu, but it certainly ought to be.
For good measure, I was treated to samples of the “818” roll, an amalgamation of albacore, spicy tuna and fried onion. But it was the gratuitous piece of ono sushi with cucumber slush on top that got me. It’s not on the menu, but it certainly ought to be.
Just Shoot It!
I am not an uni die-hard, but something about an uni shooter (as recommended by the gracious RuKasu himself) sounded tempting. Tempting because I had only tried an oyster shooter before; tempting because a shot glass of sea urchin, sake and sauce sounds sick and wrong. But one little shot is hardly a glass, barely a mouthful; and with the sake added, you’d assume you would hardly notice or mind the gaggy ingredients. So I agreed, and into that shot glass went the works: uni, sake, ponzu sauce, hot sauce, masago, green onions, a single raw quail egg, and the surprising but wonderful addition of crushed garlic chips.
The top half of the shot looked innocuous enough, but a glance at the bottom where the spongy-looking sea urchin had settled provided a flashback to my high school Life Science class, where the teacher stored many a pickled specimen jar in the verboten cabinets.
Sake…
I didn’t even like sake!
Think of it as a sake shot….
The last time I downed an oyster shooter, I chewed the kaki thoroughly, slowly, so as to savor the flavor. Not so with this one. I cheated. I imbibed everything else in the glass for taste, but the spongy brown stuff which left muddy streaks in the glass afterwards…that, my friend, I swallowed.
RuKasu Japanese Fusion
12229 Ventura Blvd., Studio City
818-506-5200
The top half of the shot looked innocuous enough, but a glance at the bottom where the spongy-looking sea urchin had settled provided a flashback to my high school Life Science class, where the teacher stored many a pickled specimen jar in the verboten cabinets.
Sake…
I didn’t even like sake!
Think of it as a sake shot….
The last time I downed an oyster shooter, I chewed the kaki thoroughly, slowly, so as to savor the flavor. Not so with this one. I cheated. I imbibed everything else in the glass for taste, but the spongy brown stuff which left muddy streaks in the glass afterwards…that, my friend, I swallowed.
RuKasu Japanese Fusion
12229 Ventura Blvd., Studio City
818-506-5200
*Note: RuKasu has closed down
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