In Boston, omakase is having a moment - The Boston Globe (2024)

This evening the meal begins with kegani, horsehair crab from Hokkaido, served with caviar, wobbly jelly made from the stock dashi, and its own rich tomalley, in a white, shell-shaped dish traced with blue flowers. Over the next 2½ hours, we are served a series of jewel-like appetizers — my favorites are a fat, succulent scallop, grilled and wrapped in seaweed, handed over still warm, and a dish of chilled somen noodles in vinegar and dashi with sliced bigfin squid that grows sweeter as I chew — then the nigiri Chen makes and serves piece by piece.

Taking a slice of fish in one hand, he applies wasabi — the real deal, grated from the root, mellow compared with commonly used dyed horseradish from a tube. (Manager Carrie Ko, Chen’s wife, shows around a tray of whole wasabi; throughout the meal, she finds moments to educate us about the ingredients we are eating, sometimes even breaking out a tablet to show us what a fish looks like before it’s butchered.) Then he adds a dollop of rice, turning and turning the piece of sushi in his palm until it’s just the right shape and texture. The pat of rice beneath the fish is airy, delicate, but each grain distinct within the mouth. Chen sets the piece of sushi in front of its recipient, tells them the name of the fish and where it came from, then sets to making the next piece for the next diner. Nigiri is meant to be eaten immediately, when it is at its best. Although the neta (the topping on a piece of nigiri) might seem to be the star of the show, the shari (the vinegared sushi rice beneath) is considered just as important. Most diners pick up the pieces using their fingers; a damp towel has been placed at each setting for people to wipe their fingers.

“Omakase shimasu” means “I’ll leave the choice to you” in Japanese, and that is what customers do at a sushi omakase, eating whatever the chef decides to serve — generally, bite after bite of the most perfect-in-the-moment seasonal (and sometimes luxury) ingredients. Omakase has grown steadily in popularity and status in the United States in recent years, sparked in part by the 2011 documentary “Jiro Dreams of Sushi,” about Michelin-starred Japanese sushi chef Jiro Ono and his dedication to the craft. It was widely viewed on Netflix, and Ono apprentice Daisuke Nakazawa went on to open Sushi Nakazawa in New York, then D.C., now with a Los Angeles location in the works.

In cities with a large Japanese population and strong sushi culture, omakase is more established. In Boston, the scene is nascent. O Ya, which opened in 2008, has moved in recent years to an omakase-only format (20 courses for $295 per person). Momi Nonmi, opened in 2017, offers omakase ranging from 14 to 24 courses ($192-$425). No Relation, located inside tropical bar Shore Leave (14-course omakase for $150), and Umami Omakase (15-18 courses, $138-$178) opened in 2019. In February, Uni began serving omakase on Thursday nights ($250). Recently, there has been a flurry of new arrivals: Sushi Sang Lee in Gloucester in 2022, 311 in the South End in 2023, Washoku Renaissance in Charlestown in January, and Wa Shin in Bay Village in February. Although they have much in common, each has its own distinct flavor.

Sushi Sang Lee feels like a secret, the counter tucked in the back of Savour Wine & Cheese shop in this historic fishing port. There’s a sense of poetic rightness in finding omakase in Gloucester. In fact, chef Sang Hyun Lee refers to his eponymous restaurant as a “Gloucester/Edomae omakase sushi bar.” Edomae sushi is a term one encounters frequently in the world of omakase. It connotes excellence and tradition, although its precise meaning is debatable, a la “artisanal.” It can relate back to how the fish is treated, be it cured, marinated, or simmered, methods originally derived to aid in preservation. It can mean that red vinegar, akasu, is used in the rice, as Lee does here. Originally, it referred to sushi made with seafood caught in the waters around Edo, the old name for Tokyo (“mae” means “in front of”). And much of the seafood at Sushi Sang Lee comes from the waters around Gloucester — be it winter crab atop warm, quivering chawan mushi, a savory custard, or cubes of local ankimo, monkfish liver (“people call it foie from the sea,” Lee says with a smile), served with pickled squash to offset its richness.

Lee came to the area from his native Seoul to visit a childhood friend (he arrived in the US on Sept. 11, 2001), then stayed. He discovered a passion for sushi, working locally at places like Oishii Too, and in New York at Sen Sakana and Shuko. He met his wife and four stepchildren during a stint at Madfish Grille in Gloucester; when COVID hit, they moved back. Lee first launched omakase takeout from the kitchen at Italian restaurant Tonno, then found a home at Savour. Located within a wine store, Sushi Sang Lee is not licensed to serve alcohol. Lee is working on getting a BYOB permit; when he does, he will celebrate by adding a 25-course dinner that utilizes his full range of recipes and skills. Until then, he serves 14- and 18-course omakase ($150-$190), a Thursday hand-roll omakase ($60), and chirashi zushi bento boxes ($15-$20) for lunch.

The fish here is serious. A slow roll of meaty, silky, smoky katsuo; akami zuke, lean bluefin tuna marinated in soy sauce; lightly torched kinmedai, golden-eye snapper; sweet, firm spot prawns; otoro, buttery tuna belly; and onward is a lesson in texture, a display of how timing, skill, and technique come together to create something so precise and delicious. But the mood is friendly, warm, and playful. Lee passes around a sharkskin he uses to grate wasabi for guests to touch. Diners are excited to ask questions, try new things, and befriend the strangers sharing this experience beside them.

Washoku Renaissance is located inside Foundation Kitchen, a shared commercial kitchen and food-hall-in-the-making in Charlestown. Here, chef Youji Iwakura serves omakase and the artful multicourse meals known as kaiseki. He previously ran Kamakura, a multilevel downtown Japanese restaurant named for his hometown. Washoku Renaissance — washoku is traditional Japanese cuisine — took shape during the pandemic, when the chef began offering curbside takeout. This year, he opened the eight-seat counter, a space as neat and compact as a ship’s galley. His food is as refined as it ever was at Kamakura, but the intimacy suits it better, condensing and illuminating the experience.

I miss out on reservations for Washoku Renaissance’s Friday-night Sapphire sushi kaiseki meal, 18 courses of savory dishes and premium sushi, including ingredients like wagyu beef ($254). (There’s also a slightly scaled-back Ruby option.) But I land a spot for the 15-course Tokyo Downtown Sushi Club Sapphire “Chillaxed” dinner ($150), which still feels quite special.

Once we are seated, Iwakura shows us the fish for the night and tells us where it is from. On the counter before him are many sauces in dishes and jars and squeeze bottles, plus an arsenal of brushes and tweezers. The meal begins with steaming fish bone broth with miso and broccoli rabe, a tonic for the soul. Hollowed cucumber segments are filled with baby eel, an ingredient the chef says is hard to come by; he has requested it specially. Translucent slices of fluke are laid upon a dark blue plate with shiso leaf, spicy apple, chardonnay gelee, chives, and wasabi, with dashi for dipping. Later in the meal, diminutive purple firefly squid are served whole, over purple radishes, blush-and-yellow tomatoes, peas in their pod, and local microgreens. It’s all fresh and elegant, without being showy.

To make nigiri, Iwakura wets his hands and slaps them together, then shapes the rice. As I try the shellfish tairagai, he nods toward my glass, filled with the Soto junmai daiginjo sake he recommended: “This is why it’s good you got that sake,” he says, and indeed, they are perfect together. Kasugodai nigiri features baby sea bream topped with a dollop of plum and a pink petal. It is cherry blossom, from a tree at Iwakura’s house. Sakura masu, cherry trout, is smoky as lox and served with dill fronds and roe; it’s giving bagel. Toro gets its lily gilded with a shaving of Italian summer truffles and a dab of Perigord truffle oil.

The meal ends with a steaming cup of hojicha and conversation. Iwakura is involved with nonprofit organizations concerned with sustainability, he says, and he is looking more toward local ingredients instead of featuring products only from Japan. It’s interesting to see sushi chefs moving in this direction; it makes sense for New England, with our excellent seafood, but it’s also a change in mind-set in this Japan-centric culinary tradition. In 2024, it may be harder to justify flying ingredients all over the world when there are world-class alternatives at home.

Wa Shin is Boston’s newest omakase (18 courses for $185), and it already feels poised, from the food to the service. Chef Sky Zheng was previously head chef at the Michelin-starred Sushi Nakazawa in New York. Presiding over the sushi bar, he is both exacting and slyly funny. And the pure flavors of his nigiri are starting to win him a following. On one visit, a repeat customer promises to be back again the following week.

The room is peaceful, all pale wood and a display of bonsai and ceramics. There is a sake list one could splash out on, plus some expensive Champagne. But mostly there is beautifully prepared seafood: a Kumamoto oyster with uni and purple shiso blossoms; miso black cod from Canada with smoked okra, rich and intense. This is the one omakase where I took exactly zero pictures of nigiri, because the first time I tried, Zheng gently chided me for not eating the sushi right away. I loved it. He was right.

But I remember the excellent rice, the Hokkaido scallop warmed with citrus-chile paste yuzu kosho, the swordfish mekajiki and the kinome, an herb Zheng slaps to release its tongue-tingling flavor. Akami zuke, the marinated bluefin, appears again; someone else gets good-natured grief for not eating it properly. Taking just half a bite changes the taste, Zheng explains. It’s perfectly balanced, so it’s necessary to eat it all at once.

Chutoro, medium-fatty tuna, is dolloped with caviar. Kagoshima horse mackerel is beautifully oily, with deep flavor. Sea urchin is tucked atop rice rolled in toasted nori, all cool and warm contrasts. Zheng hand-grates wasabi, carefully dips bristles in sauce for just the right amount. The meal ends with tamago, the omelet that concludes many omakase; this one is particularly good, with the spongy texture of Japanese kasutera cake. The chef inquires about our favorites, asks if anyone would like to repeat anything, offers special courses involving wagyu beef, uni, truffles. Most of us decline. We are perfectly full.

311 Omakase, 605 Tremont St., South End, Boston, 781-831-0311, www.311boston.com. Sushi Sang Lee, 76 Prospect St., Rear Suite, Gloucester, 978-381-3818, www.sushisanglee.com. Washoku Renaissance, 32 Cambridge St., Charlestown, 617-952-4211, www.washokurenaissance.com. Wa Shin, 222 Stuart St., Bay Village, Boston, 857-289-9290, www.washinboston.com. Advance reservations required for all.

Devra First can be reached at devra.first@globe.com. Follow her @devrafirst.