Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Eat at Roy's
What’s better than eating top-grade sushi at a world-renowned fine dining establishment? Having the chance to win a free trip to Hawaii just for doing so.
This summer, Roy’s Hawaiian Fusion restaurant introduces the L.A. Ohana Tour, a rewards program that enters diners into a drawing for an all-expense-paid trip to the Big Island after visiting at least three of the five Roy’s locations in the Southern California area, including Woodland Hills, Pasadena, Downtown L.A., Anaheim and Newport Beach. The promotion continues through the 31st of August, when one lucky winner will be announced. The prize is round-trip airfare and a five-night stay at a luxury villa for two, as well as a special dinner with founding chef Roy Yamaguchi.
The purpose of the tour is to encourage diners to partake of the unique chef creations at different Roy’s locations and revel in the aloha spirit with friends and family—hence the word Ohana, which means “family” in Hawaiian culture.
After the first restaurant visit, diners will receive an L.A. Ohana Tour card, which they can bring to a second Roy’s location to redeem a complimentary chocolate souffle (with the purchase of an entrée). A different card is then handed out, which can be turned in for a $20 gift card at the third Roy’s location, whereupon diners are entered into the sweepstakes.
Some of Roy’s most noteworthy creations include the Lakanilau, a roll of Wagyu beef, snow crab, tempura asparagus, avocado, sesame miso and truffled greens, for $16.50. This roll delights with the distinct pungence of truffle oil—an ingredient that also notably agrees with the Hawaiian Big Eye Ahi Tartar, a signature appetizer combining pine nuts, garlic chipotle aioli, and “honey dashi drizzle.” Then there is the ever-popular, eye-pleasing presentation of Sunrise at Haleakala, a crunchy deep-fried roll that encases tuna, yellowtail, salmon, avocado and asparagus in a “spicy butter sauce,” for $13.50.
Although the menus are ever-changing and often based on seasons (for instance, right now there is a “Summer Fusion Prix Fixe Menu”), in the past the Newport Beach location served up an amazing roll called “Da Crunch”—the shrimp tempura and snow crab in the roll were perfectly accented with toasted Macadamian nuts and Malaysian curry aioli. And who could forget the Yellowtail Sashimi served with slices of avocado, grapefruit, and a beautiful flower garnish?
Reminding you that this is a fusion restaurant, the L.A. location currently features the exotic Grilled Albacore Flatbread, which hints at Mediterranean flavors with its pickled red onions, smoked feta and Tzatziki sauce (defined as a yogurt and cucumber dip).
Just by eating at Roy’s, you’re already a winner.
Roy’s has more than 30 locations around the world—25 in the continental U.S., six in Hawaii, one in Japan and one in Guam. Selections on the menu may vary in each restaurant.
Roy’s
800 S. Figueroa St., Los Angeles
213-488-4994
This summer, Roy’s Hawaiian Fusion restaurant introduces the L.A. Ohana Tour, a rewards program that enters diners into a drawing for an all-expense-paid trip to the Big Island after visiting at least three of the five Roy’s locations in the Southern California area, including Woodland Hills, Pasadena, Downtown L.A., Anaheim and Newport Beach. The promotion continues through the 31st of August, when one lucky winner will be announced. The prize is round-trip airfare and a five-night stay at a luxury villa for two, as well as a special dinner with founding chef Roy Yamaguchi.
The purpose of the tour is to encourage diners to partake of the unique chef creations at different Roy’s locations and revel in the aloha spirit with friends and family—hence the word Ohana, which means “family” in Hawaiian culture.
After the first restaurant visit, diners will receive an L.A. Ohana Tour card, which they can bring to a second Roy’s location to redeem a complimentary chocolate souffle (with the purchase of an entrée). A different card is then handed out, which can be turned in for a $20 gift card at the third Roy’s location, whereupon diners are entered into the sweepstakes.
Some of Roy’s most noteworthy creations include the Lakanilau, a roll of Wagyu beef, snow crab, tempura asparagus, avocado, sesame miso and truffled greens, for $16.50. This roll delights with the distinct pungence of truffle oil—an ingredient that also notably agrees with the Hawaiian Big Eye Ahi Tartar, a signature appetizer combining pine nuts, garlic chipotle aioli, and “honey dashi drizzle.” Then there is the ever-popular, eye-pleasing presentation of Sunrise at Haleakala, a crunchy deep-fried roll that encases tuna, yellowtail, salmon, avocado and asparagus in a “spicy butter sauce,” for $13.50.
Although the menus are ever-changing and often based on seasons (for instance, right now there is a “Summer Fusion Prix Fixe Menu”), in the past the Newport Beach location served up an amazing roll called “Da Crunch”—the shrimp tempura and snow crab in the roll were perfectly accented with toasted Macadamian nuts and Malaysian curry aioli. And who could forget the Yellowtail Sashimi served with slices of avocado, grapefruit, and a beautiful flower garnish?
Reminding you that this is a fusion restaurant, the L.A. location currently features the exotic Grilled Albacore Flatbread, which hints at Mediterranean flavors with its pickled red onions, smoked feta and Tzatziki sauce (defined as a yogurt and cucumber dip).
Just by eating at Roy’s, you’re already a winner.
Roy’s has more than 30 locations around the world—25 in the continental U.S., six in Hawaii, one in Japan and one in Guam. Selections on the menu may vary in each restaurant.
Roy’s
800 S. Figueroa St., Los Angeles
213-488-4994
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Getting Saucy at Ahi Sushi
This summer, why not take a scenic drive along the coast to Santa Barbara, if only to experience one of the best sushi restaurants this side of the country has to offer?
Ahi Sushi starts as familiar as any customary Japanese restaurant—you park your car in a small lot and then enter a smaller, nondescript dive; you’re greeted by the host, and after being seated at the sushi bar, you’re handed the dish of wasabi and ginger, and your drink is served. But then comes the menu, and you’re blown away.
The zany names aren’t the big deal; many sushi restaurants come up with funky-sounding titles that entertain as well as entice, but some of the listed ingredients that follow the names of each roll are anything but ordinary.
The Ahi Roll, for example, mixes fresh fish with mango and chives and a “cucumber/wasabi vinaigrette sauce.” In some of the other rolls you may find sesame sauce, carpaccio sauce, citrus herb vinaigrette, dijon vinaigrette and chive oil, or house chipotle sauce. Spicy aioli, overall, reigned as the most popular sauce on the menu.
Behind the bar, two busybody chefs scurry about, fetching and using the 15 or so differently colored sauces in squeeze-bottles, as they prepare one artistic dish after another for the patrons that begin to pack the tiny joint. Although it’s also a matter of having fresh fish and top-quality ingredients, it’s all the sauces here that make the grade—with the help of a searing torch that brings out the aroma of it all, ensuring that the essence of good gastronomy fills the dining room.
Ahi’s signature lobster roll is called “South Beach Grill.” Portabello mushroom, red bell pepper, eggplant, asparagus and garlic agree harmoniously with chunks of grilled lobster in this roll, which is then sprayed with white truffle oil by the chef using a small mist-bottle (no kidding). Finally, a spicy tomato soy sauce is added on the side. At $12.95, this dish puts to shame some of the far less tasty lobster rolls served at many upscale Japanese restaurants, some of which charge almost double the price.
Just when you think the South Beach Grill can’t be topped, along comes the Sunny Southern—this one has snow crab, jalapeno, cucumber and avocado, but it’s the sundried tomato oil and spicy aioli that do the trick…and it’s seared. The sundried tomato oil runs alongside the roll, but the spicy aioli sits on top of it with the snow crab and gets burned in, ensuring that the two flavors melt and merge together in creamy perfection.
The single snag in an otherwise perfect performance: the chef did not impart that the ususual sauce of papaya aioli, which according to the menu is served with the “Ono Ono” roll, was unavailable today; he simply substituted regular spicy aioli in the dish next to the green jalapeno sauce. But otherwise, the Ono Ono, with its tempura crab leg, avocado, cucumber and seared blackened salmon with cajun powder was pure bliss.
Ahi Sushi
3631 State St., Santa Barbara
805-687-6942
Ahi Sushi starts as familiar as any customary Japanese restaurant—you park your car in a small lot and then enter a smaller, nondescript dive; you’re greeted by the host, and after being seated at the sushi bar, you’re handed the dish of wasabi and ginger, and your drink is served. But then comes the menu, and you’re blown away.
The zany names aren’t the big deal; many sushi restaurants come up with funky-sounding titles that entertain as well as entice, but some of the listed ingredients that follow the names of each roll are anything but ordinary.
The Ahi Roll, for example, mixes fresh fish with mango and chives and a “cucumber/wasabi vinaigrette sauce.” In some of the other rolls you may find sesame sauce, carpaccio sauce, citrus herb vinaigrette, dijon vinaigrette and chive oil, or house chipotle sauce. Spicy aioli, overall, reigned as the most popular sauce on the menu.
Behind the bar, two busybody chefs scurry about, fetching and using the 15 or so differently colored sauces in squeeze-bottles, as they prepare one artistic dish after another for the patrons that begin to pack the tiny joint. Although it’s also a matter of having fresh fish and top-quality ingredients, it’s all the sauces here that make the grade—with the help of a searing torch that brings out the aroma of it all, ensuring that the essence of good gastronomy fills the dining room.
Ahi’s signature lobster roll is called “South Beach Grill.” Portabello mushroom, red bell pepper, eggplant, asparagus and garlic agree harmoniously with chunks of grilled lobster in this roll, which is then sprayed with white truffle oil by the chef using a small mist-bottle (no kidding). Finally, a spicy tomato soy sauce is added on the side. At $12.95, this dish puts to shame some of the far less tasty lobster rolls served at many upscale Japanese restaurants, some of which charge almost double the price.
Just when you think the South Beach Grill can’t be topped, along comes the Sunny Southern—this one has snow crab, jalapeno, cucumber and avocado, but it’s the sundried tomato oil and spicy aioli that do the trick…and it’s seared. The sundried tomato oil runs alongside the roll, but the spicy aioli sits on top of it with the snow crab and gets burned in, ensuring that the two flavors melt and merge together in creamy perfection.
The single snag in an otherwise perfect performance: the chef did not impart that the ususual sauce of papaya aioli, which according to the menu is served with the “Ono Ono” roll, was unavailable today; he simply substituted regular spicy aioli in the dish next to the green jalapeno sauce. But otherwise, the Ono Ono, with its tempura crab leg, avocado, cucumber and seared blackened salmon with cajun powder was pure bliss.
Ahi Sushi
3631 State St., Santa Barbara
805-687-6942
Sunday, May 16, 2010
A Matter of Trust at Sasabune
It’s another “Trust Me” menu.
By now I’ve figured out that in a sushi bar, these two words are code for omakase, which means chef’s choice. No choice by you, in other words, as far as what you eat. Sushi Nozawa of Studio City employs this command of faith, this motto; Nozawa’s menu alone bears nothing but the two words Trust Me.
Sasabune of Los Angeles is a bit more lenient: only the sushi bar is strictly reserved for omakase-style, but you can order what you want if you sit at a table—as long as it’s a minimum of four orders per person.
Right as you walk in, you see a sign at the register that forbids the Americanized staples. “NO California Roll, NO Spicy Tuna Roll, NO Teriyaki/Tempura…Seriously!” Consider yourself forewarned.
At the bar, there are two types of omakase to choose from: regular, at $65 per person, with 13 different types of sushi, maki and sashimi served; or Japanese style, $95 per person, with 17 types. Some of the sushi served between the two types of omakase overlap (for example, both styles serve tuna, yellowtail, halibut, salmon and butterfish); but the Japanese style offers rarities such as sweet shrimp, jumbo clam, sea urchin and abalone.
Normally I don’t handle restrictions in any restaurant very well; after all, I am the patron, and isn’t the customer always right? Or is that the Americanized way of thinking? Although I usually rack up more than $15 or $20 total on my sushi bill, I still hesitate when I see the occasional sign behind the sushi bar that dictates “$15 minimum per person at sushi bar.” What if it’s my first time there and I don’t know if the rice is seasoned to perfection? Once in a while, I simply request the check after a single order if something is not up to par. This may just cause discord among the staff should my order at that point be less than the predetermined minimum.
But fair is fair, and I give every restaurant a chance to impress me—Chef Nozawa, after all, did do just that, with his freshness of fish and integrity of sushi rice, heavy restrictions notwithstanding. And so I sat at a table and ordered my four minimum, happy to do the choosing and grateful that the sushi and maki dishes I wanted ranged from $5 to $6. (The most expensive sushi items appeared to be the chilled toro, which costs $10, and sea urchin, $12. At the bottom of the menu, various sashimi are labeled “Market Price.” In the mood for baby tuna sashimi? It’s $18).
Sasabune, which means bamboo leaf boat in Japanese and is pronounced sa-sa-boon-nay, may claim to only serve “traditional style sushi,” but I must say there are modern twists which surprised me. Most of the sushi I ordered, for example, were unexpectedly but pleasantly cooked. Butterfish, which I have only seen served raw, came browned and eel-sauced, unagi-like and served gunkan-style (sitting on seaweed-wrapped battleships of sushi rice), with sesame seeds sprinkled on top.
The monk fish liver was warm and soft, as opposed to the usual cold, pate-like variety. According to the owner, his restaurant doesn’t serve it out of the refrigerator like most sushi bars do; at Sasabune, the ankimo is boiled, baked, and then brushed with miso sauce.
Very few sushi bars carry these: clear strips of kombu, a type of kelp, often draped across the top of a piece of fish for taste and decoration. At Sasabune, the salmon nigiri comes with kombu, which enhances the flavor of the fish. The scallop was extremely fresh, and was probably the only thing I ended up with that wasn’t cooked. But the most exquisite signature item has got to be the blue crab roll. Served as a perfectly cylindrical (as opposed to cone-shaped) hand roll, the blue crab is pure seafood essence—it just doesn’t get fresher or creamier than this.
It’s no surprise that Sasabune has its legions of devout followers—those who discovered it after this location opened four and a half years ago, and those who have been avid fans since the very beginning, back when the restaurant was on Sawtelle Boulevard (the old location has been taken over by Bar Hayama).
Sasabune reminds me of Hiko Sushi of Los Angeles and Sushi Park of West Hollywood, with similarities in menus, policies and presentation styles. Both of them are traditional Japanese restaurants, with omakase-only sushi bars and arbitrary table orders—as long as it’s (you guessed it) a four-dish minimum.
You will love Sasabune…Trust Me.
Sasabune
12400 Wilshire Blvd., Los Angeles
310-820-3596
By now I’ve figured out that in a sushi bar, these two words are code for omakase, which means chef’s choice. No choice by you, in other words, as far as what you eat. Sushi Nozawa of Studio City employs this command of faith, this motto; Nozawa’s menu alone bears nothing but the two words Trust Me.
Sasabune of Los Angeles is a bit more lenient: only the sushi bar is strictly reserved for omakase-style, but you can order what you want if you sit at a table—as long as it’s a minimum of four orders per person.
Right as you walk in, you see a sign at the register that forbids the Americanized staples. “NO California Roll, NO Spicy Tuna Roll, NO Teriyaki/Tempura…Seriously!” Consider yourself forewarned.
At the bar, there are two types of omakase to choose from: regular, at $65 per person, with 13 different types of sushi, maki and sashimi served; or Japanese style, $95 per person, with 17 types. Some of the sushi served between the two types of omakase overlap (for example, both styles serve tuna, yellowtail, halibut, salmon and butterfish); but the Japanese style offers rarities such as sweet shrimp, jumbo clam, sea urchin and abalone.
Normally I don’t handle restrictions in any restaurant very well; after all, I am the patron, and isn’t the customer always right? Or is that the Americanized way of thinking? Although I usually rack up more than $15 or $20 total on my sushi bill, I still hesitate when I see the occasional sign behind the sushi bar that dictates “$15 minimum per person at sushi bar.” What if it’s my first time there and I don’t know if the rice is seasoned to perfection? Once in a while, I simply request the check after a single order if something is not up to par. This may just cause discord among the staff should my order at that point be less than the predetermined minimum.
But fair is fair, and I give every restaurant a chance to impress me—Chef Nozawa, after all, did do just that, with his freshness of fish and integrity of sushi rice, heavy restrictions notwithstanding. And so I sat at a table and ordered my four minimum, happy to do the choosing and grateful that the sushi and maki dishes I wanted ranged from $5 to $6. (The most expensive sushi items appeared to be the chilled toro, which costs $10, and sea urchin, $12. At the bottom of the menu, various sashimi are labeled “Market Price.” In the mood for baby tuna sashimi? It’s $18).
Sasabune, which means bamboo leaf boat in Japanese and is pronounced sa-sa-boon-nay, may claim to only serve “traditional style sushi,” but I must say there are modern twists which surprised me. Most of the sushi I ordered, for example, were unexpectedly but pleasantly cooked. Butterfish, which I have only seen served raw, came browned and eel-sauced, unagi-like and served gunkan-style (sitting on seaweed-wrapped battleships of sushi rice), with sesame seeds sprinkled on top.
The monk fish liver was warm and soft, as opposed to the usual cold, pate-like variety. According to the owner, his restaurant doesn’t serve it out of the refrigerator like most sushi bars do; at Sasabune, the ankimo is boiled, baked, and then brushed with miso sauce.
Very few sushi bars carry these: clear strips of kombu, a type of kelp, often draped across the top of a piece of fish for taste and decoration. At Sasabune, the salmon nigiri comes with kombu, which enhances the flavor of the fish. The scallop was extremely fresh, and was probably the only thing I ended up with that wasn’t cooked. But the most exquisite signature item has got to be the blue crab roll. Served as a perfectly cylindrical (as opposed to cone-shaped) hand roll, the blue crab is pure seafood essence—it just doesn’t get fresher or creamier than this.
It’s no surprise that Sasabune has its legions of devout followers—those who discovered it after this location opened four and a half years ago, and those who have been avid fans since the very beginning, back when the restaurant was on Sawtelle Boulevard (the old location has been taken over by Bar Hayama).
Sasabune reminds me of Hiko Sushi of Los Angeles and Sushi Park of West Hollywood, with similarities in menus, policies and presentation styles. Both of them are traditional Japanese restaurants, with omakase-only sushi bars and arbitrary table orders—as long as it’s (you guessed it) a four-dish minimum.
You will love Sasabune…Trust Me.
Sasabune
12400 Wilshire Blvd., Los Angeles
310-820-3596
Monday, May 3, 2010
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