Gen Kai Japanese Cuisine - Irvine, CA [Eating]

(Pictures for this review taken with my Canon PowerShot SD800is.

Read Elmomonster's review of Gen Kai here.)

Kitty-corner from Irvine Valley College lies a small, darkened strip mall mostly abandoned once the sun has set. Home to an eclectic gathering of businesses that draw little foot traffic and shutter their doors early, the lifeblood of the center's surprisingly numerous eateries is a thin trickle of car-less students desperate to get away from the campus cafeteria. With such anemic support, it's no wonder that this area of Irvine has a less than stellar reputation for food.



If there's one important piece of knowledge that I've gained from my gastronomic explorations, it's that great food is seldom where you expect to find it. Some of the best meals that I've ever had were ones that took me completely by surprise. Hunkered within the shadows of this sad strip mall, Gen Kai Japanese Cuisine, a restaurant for which I had nothing but low expectations, taught me this maxim yet again.


(Juuji)

In operation for close to 15 years, Gen Kai has a less than stellar reputation amongst Irvine's sushi lovers. During my decade in the city, what little I'd heard about the place had been enough to prevent me from ever setting foot within its walls. However, unbeknownst to myself and most other Irvine-ites, the restaurant has undergone a Renaissance in recent years; New remodeling, new staff, new menu, and, most importantly, new chefs.


(Lightly pickled cucumber - A signature palate cleanser.)

My first visit was entirely accidental. Cat was teaching a class at Irvine Valley College that didn't end until 10pm. I'd had a late night at the office and had less than half an hour to eat before I needed to pick her up. Like the desperate students drawn to it during the day, I ended up at the strip mall across the street in search of something fast and still open. Sushi at Gen Kai seemed to be my only choice.


(Edamame - Boiled and lightly salted soybeans in their pods.)

The meal that followed was so startling that I found myself emailing my friend and fellow OC Food Blogs contributor Elmomonster the following week to suggest we try Gen Kai again together. It's a mark of our mutual respect that he agreed, even after an unpleasant dining experience at Gen Kai some years earlier.


(Squid and Kelp Salad)

Serving us that night was Juuji (pictured near the top), a cherubic Japanese itamae who cheerfully informed me that both of Gen Kai's sushi chefs were named "Juuji". However, this chef was one who'd prepared my first delightful meal at Gen Kai. When Elmomonster decided to leave the ordering to me, I was confident in asking Juuji, "Omakase onegai-shimasu," which meant he would have free reign to serve us whatever he considered to be the best and freshest that day. I'd placed us entirely in the itamae's hands


(Tako-Su)

Flattered by our trust in him, Juuji was on a mission to impress. He succeeded admirably. Our first course was a pair of pickled seafood dishes to be shared between the two of us. The Tako-Su was a bold, mouth-puckering heap of sliced octopus with a sweetly tempered finish. The vivid orange color came from the marinade, which had also given each piece a meaty and tender texture. The dish's counterpart (pictured above) was a crunchy mix of squid, kelp, ginger, and bell peppers that brushed over our tongues like a gentle breeze.



A giant snail followed, poached and still in its own shell. Its twisted armor offered little protection as we wrested the chewy contents free and enjoyed their unctuous earthiness. The few drops of briny liquor left behind were eagerly sucked into our ravening maws.


(Serving for one.)

Juuji's strategy that night was evidently shock and awe, and he set out to overwhelm us with our next course. Reigning over a gorgeous plate of sashimi, its antennae still thrashing about, was the head of a giant prawn that had been whole and alive mere moments ago. Its gleaming black eyes surveyed a realm that glittered with the jewel-like flesh of the fallen. At Juuji's suggestion, I performed a Shinto prayer for the crustacean's spirit, waiting for it to depart the body before partaking.



Its freshness evident with each bite, the Amaebi (Sweet Shrimp) lived up to its name. I honored its passing by consuming every delectable morsel.


(Spanish Mackerel - center, Orange Clam - bottom)

Overshadowed by the centerpiece, yet equally sublime, wafer-thin slices of Aoyagi (Orange Clam) conveyed the aroma of the ocean. Strips of Aji (Spanish Mackerel) coated with grated ginger spread their rich oil throughout our mouths.



Finishing off the selection were two luxurious slices of Toro (Fatty Tuna). While not the highest grade of toro available, their quality was unmistakable. Each tender piece was redolent with the essence of the fish, melting away like the fine filet mignon.



Still reeling from the delicacies on our sashimi plates, we were unprepared for the appearance of our third course. With a mischievous grin, Juuji presented us each with a piece of Jellied Skate Wing. Served chilled and enveloped by golden aspic made from a combination of natural gelatin and the braising liquid used to cook it, the skate's finely textured meat required care to separate from its many bones.



The fourth course was a detour from the pure to the abstract. An imaginative roll of asparagus, salmon, shrimp tempura, avocado, radish sprouts, and soy paper was presented to us on plates that would not have been out of place in a gallery of modern art. The display was both beautiful and delicious.



At this point, we were both about ready to wave our napkins as flags. Our shock was nearly palpable when we were each served a hefty portion of Ankimo (Monkfish Liver), the foie gras of the sea. Despite the grated chili and daikon, sliced green onions, and ponzu sauce added to cut the practically pure fat, this dish nearly finished us. Yet, we were unable to stop ourselves from laboriously devouring each lump of lipid love.



The sixth course was the return on an old friend. After the sashimi course, the heads of our giant shrimp had been removed by the kitchen for further treatment. They returned to us now, twisted but still recognizable. A brief swim in a sizzling oil hot spring with only the scant protection of tempura batter had transformed each shrimp's once fearsome helm into a fragile facade of crispy goodness.

I attacked the spiky legs, feelers, and antennae first, carefully shattering each sharp shard between my teeth. Once denuded, the shrimp's now-helpless skull yielded to me its flavorful fat and brains as I devoured it whole. Not a single speck of chitin failed to make its way into my belly.



Sensing our flagging resolve, Juuji wisely chose to have us share our seventh course. I don't think we could have survived it otherwise. The amusingly named Japanese Pizza roll was a tempura fried cylinder of salmon, rice, and nori. Each slice was topped with sweetened mayonnaise and was broiled until the mayonnaise caramelized. Generous pinches of Tobiko (Flying Fish Roe) and sliced green onions were added, along with a drizzle of teriyaki sauce. It was decadent. It was obscene. It was damn tasty stuff.



Mercifully, our eighth course was a simple plate of Hakusai (Lightly Pickled Napa Cabbage) that served to cleanse our palates and sooth stomachs troubled by the heaviness of the last two dishes. Its mild bite was just what we needed to reawaken our senses.



Our ninth and final course was a shared sashimi plate of Shiro-Maguro Tataki (Water-Search Albacore) served with thinly sliced onion, grated daikon, and ponzu. The mild fish and tart ponzu left us refreshed and utterly satisfied.



(Green Tea Ice Cream Mochi - Gen Kai's Omakase includes dessert!)

Gen Kai Japanese Cuisine - In the restaurant world, it's rare when an existing, mediocre establishment is able to remake itself into something noteworthy. With the addition of Juuji to its staff, Gen Kai has managed to profoundly elevate the quality of both its food and customer experience. His mastery of traditional flavors and modern Californian sushi cuisine has made Gen Kai a contender in Orange County's highly competitive sushi market.


Bill (per person, including tax & tip):

Omakase - 53.10


Flavor: A+ (averaged over two visits)
Ambience: A
Service: A
ROI: A+

Overall: A


Gen Kai Japanese Cuisine
15435 Jeffrey Rd., #119
Irvine, CA 92618
1-949-786-3420


Read Elmomonster's review of our meal at Gen Kai here.

Funashin - Fountain Valley, CA [Eating]

(Pictures for this review taken with my Canon PowerShot SD800is.

On a personal note, I used to frequent a restaurant called New Sushi House at 1969 Harbor in Costa Mesa, which was run by a friendly Chinese couple. They were suddenly replaced by a Taco Surf around July of 2004. If anyone knows what happened to them or where the chef is now, I'd very much appreciate a comment or email. He had some very innovative rolls, which I'd like to taste again.)

In Japan, a bento is a culinary jewel box containing a variety of succulent tidbits that delight the senses. They're a ubiquitous lunchtime treat that can be picked up from convenience stores, department stores, restaurants, and train stations. Mothers pack them for their children and husbands. Families take them to work, school, parks, or outdoor events. Every city has its own regional variations, epitomized by the famous ekiben (train station bentos). Yet in the States, the glorious plethora embodied by the bento is diminished, replaced by mix-n-match combination lunches that are pretenders to the name. A bento isn't a choice of teriyaki chicken, teriyaki beef, or a pork cutlet. It doesn't always come with a garden salad. You shouldn't be locked into a side of tempura, gyoza, or sashimi. A true bento is a cook's gift to you. It's an omakase of his or her favorite small dishes, packed together in an amount that won't make you gain ten pounds, at a cost that won't make you raid your child's college fund. A bento, in short, is a box of edible imagination.



Having recently embarked on a journey of home bento-making discovery, Elonweis wanted to sample some authentic restaurant bentos for inspiration. Unfortunately, everywhere we looked, we were faced with boring, insipid, unimaginative offerings. Through a series of misadventures, and with the help of my trusty GPS, we ended up at Funashin Japanese restaurant in Fountain Valley.



Conveniently located at the corner of the 405 freeway and Brookhurst, Funashin appeared to be typical of Japanese restaurants in the States. A small sushi bar spanned one side of the restaurant, separated from the dining area by shoji screens. The menu contained the usual suspects, teriyaki this, tempura that, and nods to udon and sukiyaki. However, two small lines near the top of its menu set Funashin apart; "Funashin Bento. Boxed lunch with a variety of Japanese delicacies." There was an A Set and a B Set. The difference? The B Set included a tempura assortment. Fingers crossed, we ordered the Funashin Bento B Set.



The standard bowls of Miso Shiru were brought out immediately. They passed the first test. We didn't go blind.



To take the edge off of our hunger while we waited, we ordered a few items from the sushi bar. The tender slices of Tako (octopus) were chewy, juicy, and redolent with the flavors of the briny deep. The sushi rice, on the other hand, was disturbingly salty.



Two ruddy pieces of Hamachi (yellowtail tuna), my gauge for freshness at any sushi bar, were mediocre at best. Once again, there was something terribly wrong with the seasoning of the sushi rice, which almost drowned out the fish.



The Uni (sea urchin genitalia), glistening cylinders of ice cold richness, tasted of egg yolks and the sea. Here, the large amount of salt used in the sushi rice served to enhance the strong flavor of the sea urchin, instead of clashing as it had with the more delicate yellowtail.



The Ninja Roll was a Soft Shell Crab Roll done on the cheap, containing mostly imitation crab with a little avocado and deep fried soft shell crab. I guess the soft shell crab was the "ninja", since it was well-hidden by the other ingredients. With only five pieces, definitely not worth its $9.50 asking price.



Disappointed with the sushi, Elonweis and I were more than ready for our bentos when they arrived. It was worth the wait. The selection, the sheer variety, these were the bentos we were looking for. They were type of bentos one might find in Japan, featuring the best small dishes the restaurant had to offer.



Going clockwise from the top, we found a number of simmered items, including bamboo shoots, kabocha pumpkin, taro, konnyaku, and fishcake. A piece of tamagoyaki, sweetened and custard-like Japanese omelet peeped out from next to a cup of seasoned burdock and carrot threads. A small mound of seaweed salad graced the front.

Everything was exquisite and perfectly flavored, particularly the dense kabocha, which melted and spread its gentle sweetness throughout my mouth. The konnyaku resisted slightly before breaking into shards that ricocheted off my mouth and tongue like a shattered super ball.



Next, a slab of salmon, austerely seasoned with salt and grilled, was perfect in its simplicity. A squirt of lemon added a bright accent to the rich meat. Behind the salmon, a crispy piece of tori kara-age, its deep color revealing the ginger and soy sauce marinade it had steeped in before taking a dip in hot oil.



Generous slices of gem-like maguro (tuna) and hamachi sashimi glowed in the lower right. The hamachi, which we'd already sampled, was average. However, the ruby red maguro was very fresh, releasing more and more of its rich flavor as we chewed.



The lower left side held a dazzling assortment of tempura, including shrimp, sweet potato, and kabocha. Most intriguing was a lurid yellow cylinder covered in a batter I'd never seen before. One bite revealed it to be surumi, with a crisp covering reminiscent of Corn Flakes or puffed rice. The tempura were very enjoyable, although a little too oily. Given the sheer amount of food in Funashin's bento, it was almost overkill. I could see why they offered an A Set sans tempura.



Above the tempura, what initially appeared to be a croquette drizzled with tonkatsu sauce turned out to be a whole scallop crusted with panko crumbs and deep fried. The soft texture of the scallop was a great contrast for its crunchy armor and tangy sauce. Behind it lurked another piece of tori kara-age.



Last but not least, a selection of tsukemono (Japanese pickles) were placed in the center to refresh the palate between items. They went very well with the rice.



After all, no meal is complete without rice. Gotta have the rice.


Funashin - The sushi is only so-so, but the bento makes it worth going to. That one dish alone is enough to make me a regular. The tempura in the B Set should be tried at least once. However, if you have a low tolerance for oily food, you might be better off getting the A Set. Stay away from the sushi bar.


Bill:

Hamachi - $4.00
Uni - Market Price
Tako - $3.50
Ninja Roll - $9.50
Funashin Bento B Set - $13.50


Flavor: B+
Ambience: A-
Service: A
ROI: B

Overall: A-


Funashin
18120 Brookhurst St, Ste 25
Fountain Valley, CA 92708
1-714-963-3484

Frenzy Sushi (Vegetarian Omakase) - Costa Mesa, CA [Eating]

(Pictures for this review taken with my Canon Rebel XTi.

Dedicated to the moderators in the "Chowhound Team".)



Here's a shout-out to my two new friends, Gene and Nami, who managed to spot me having dinner at Frenzy Sushi. I never thought that I'd be considered a "celebrity sighting". Nami, thank you so much for being a fan and loyal reader. I'm very flattered. Please keep coming back!



Longstanding visitors to this blog will, at this point, undoubtedly be aware of my love for Frenzy Sushi, my watering hole of choice for raw fish goodness. I'm so passionate about the food at this fine restaurant that I managed to get myself kicked off of Chowhound defending my right to post about it. Although I wasn't friends with Chef John Arteaga during the Chowhound debacle, we've become friends since then though a shared love of food.



So, when Meridius Chick, my "other little sister", wanted vegetarian sushi for her graduation present, there was really only one place for us to go. Meridius Chick is also a big fan of Frenzy Sushi. As a vegetarian, it's hard for her to find regular restaurants with interesting vegetarian items on their menus. At sushi bars, her options are often limited to Kappa Maki (Cucumber Rolls) and Tamago (Japanese Sweet Omelet). Chef John's inventiveness when it comes to preparing vegetarian dishes for her is a refreshing change of pace.



Since this was supposed to be a dinner celebrating her graduation from college, I phoned the restaurant ahead of time to ask for vegetarian omakase. Chef John didn't disappoint. He started us off with Inari-zushi. Sweetened skins of fried tofu held a mix of sushi rice and pieces of marinated shitake mushrooms. The mild vinegar used in the rice, the meaty mushrooms, and the chewy tofu made for a delightfully flavorful package.



Next were orders of Futomaki. Contained in these hefty rolls were marinated mushrooms, spinach, radish pickles, tofu skin, and sweetened Japanese omelet. The crunchiness of the pickles did a great job offsetting the soft egg and more resilient mushroom. Futomaki were my favorite rolls as a child, and they're often a great way of breaking in sushi novices who aren't ready to eat raw fish.



To help clear our palates before moving us on to the cooked items, Chef John served up portions of this sublime Hakusai, delicately salted and pickled Napa cabbage. Each piece had just the right amount of sourness from the fermentation process to reawaken our taste buds. The dusting of shichimi togarashi (Japanese chili pepper mix) on top provided an intriguing hint of spiciness to a dish already perfect in its simplicity.



Our first cooked dish was Age-nasu. Pieces of Japanese eggplant had been skillfully scored and marinated in a blend of miso, sake, and other seasonings. The eggplant was then deep fried and drizzled with a sauce made from reducing the leftover marinade. Next to the Hakusai, the Age-nasu was Meridius Chick's favorite dish of the evening. Each morsel of eggplant had crispy, flakey skin which broke apart to release a deliciously light interior. The miso glaze added a complex sweetness that spread through the mouth with each bite, and enhanced the natural flavors of the eggplant.



To contrast with the Age-nasu, Chef John served a Tofu Salad consisting of pan-seared fingers of tofu, blanched green beans, and thinly sliced cucumber tossed in one of his signature dressings. The firm texture of the tofu played well with the cool crunch of the celery and sweet meatiness of the green beans. Toasted sesame seeds brought a rich nuttiness to the party. I'm definitely ordering this dish again.



Chef John's knockout punch for the evening, as far as I was concerned, was his Sweet and Sour Agedashi Tofu. Classic Agedashi Tofu consists of cubes of battered and deep fried tofu served in a seasoning made from bonito broth and soy sauce. Since bonito is dried skipjack tuna, Chef John made the dish vegetarian by replacing the standard broth with a sweet and sour sauce containing onions, pineapple, and bell peppers.

It was marvelous. The fried tofu had a delicate, ricotta-like interior that was a perfect match for the crunchy exterior. The gentle sweet and sour sauce was enhanced by the natural sweetness and sourness of the vegetables. This style of sweet and sour sauce is a Japanese adaptation of a traditional Chinese preparation. By fusing it with a classic Japanese dish, Chef John created something remarkable.



The next dish was somewhat controversial. The Tofu Lettuce Wraps consisted of a strip of deep fried tofu, Japanese pickles, and sushi rice drizzled with a creamy sauce and rolled up in lettuce leaves. I enjoyed my wrap very much, finding the lettuce leaves refreshing, and loving the richness the sauce and tofu imparted on the rice. Meridius Chick felt the wraps were too heavy, with both the fried tofu and creamy dressing. She also didn't think there was enough contrast between textures in the filling. This one might be a matter a personal preference.



Our rice course was something for the truly adventurous. Knowing how fond I am of natto (fermented soybeans), and after hearing that Meridius Chick was willing to try it, Chef John prepared bowls of Natto-don for the two of us. On top of a bed of rice, he laid seasoned natto, okra, grated yamaimo (mountain yam), the yolk of a quail egg, minced shiso (beefsteak tomato leaf), and shredded nori (algae sheets). It was a homey bowl of mucilaginous delight. The earthy beat of the natto, the smooth richness of the quail egg, throbbing bass line from the yamaimo, the tinkling chimes from the shiso, and the percussive explosions from the okra played against my tongue with each gooey mouthful. Meridius Chick did me proud by eating most of her bowl and liking it, although the quail egg just wasn't her cup of tea.



To finish us off, I asked for a pair of fried ice creams. The first was a Deep Fried Green Tea Ice Cream. As always, the mix between the hot, crunchy exterior and frosty, oozing interior were delightful. The grassy hints of green tea in the ice cream really showed through.



The second was a Deep Fried Red Bean Ice Cream. The sweetened azuki beans didn't shine through as much as the green tea, but Meridius Chick really liked this one. A sweet end to a sweet evening.



Congratulations on graduating from UC Irvine, Meridius Chick! I love ya, girl. I know you'll do us all proud in the Marines. Stay safe and Semper Fi!


Frenzy Sushi (Vegetarian Omakase) - If you're a vegetarian who likes to eat sushi, or have sushi-loving vegetarian friends, Frenzy will take good care of you. Just let the chefs know what your dining preferences are or call ahead and ask Chef John for the vegetarian omakase.

Since Chef John and I are friends, it would be improper for me to rate Frenzy using my standard scale, as I'm now a biased party. As such, I'll reiterate the overall score of A+ from my original review. Please don't take my word for it. Hop on in and see for yourselves.


Overall: A+


Frenzy Sushi
369 E 17th St, #17
Costa Mesa, CA 92627
1-949-646-1333
http://www.frenzysushi.com


To read my original, meat-loaded review of Frenzy Sushi, click here.

Smile Sushi - San Jose, CA [Eating]

I float like a butterfly, sting like a bee,
Keys to the ignition are like gloves to Ali.
To and fro, water in the sea,
The sunrise is my peace.
[Repeat]

I ride the distance, nature in me,
Nirvana coming through with my delivery.
To and fro, mountains and sea,
The twilight sets me free.
[Repeat]

- "Gloves 2 Ali" by Ghost Style

(Dawn on I-5.)

The drive from Southern California to Northern California usually takes six hefty hours. Sometimes I can make the trip just in a little over five hours if I do my Initial D impersonation, book it, and don't run afoul of traffic. On bad days, I can hit snags going through Los Angeles, snow and/or ice crossing the Grapevine, construction on the I-5 straightaway, and the occasional forest fire on CA-152. It's worth it, though, to see my family and friends. I have deep roots in Northern California. I like getting back to them whenever I can.

My friends all know about my food blogging proclivities. It's fairly hard to keep secret when I insist on pulling out my camera during every meal. I may be able to ninja pictures without the disturbing the wait staff, but my friends tend to notice when I stop them from eating to get a shot of their food. I get some ribbing for it, but I also get recommendations to favorite local spots.


(Mah posse.)

Late one chilly night, Ninjafuzz decided to introduce me to Smile Sushi, his sushi bar of choice, just a few blocks away from his apartment in downtown San Jose. He, Waldensian, VII XLII, K Love, a friend of theirs who I'll call "Token Girl", and I trudged though the empty, frigid streets towards the one beacon of light still shining in the darkness.


(Not a creature was stirring...)

The restaurant was as empty as the street when we arrived. We were greeted by a soft-spoken, Korean gentleman who Ninjafuzz informed me was the itamae (skilled sushi chef). The chef seated us at some tables, since our group of six was much too large for the restaurant's small sushi bar. He then proceeded to apologize for the lack of a wait staff, saying that his waitress had called in sick. It was just him manning the entire shop; front, bar, and kitchen. Even with Smile Sushi's limited seating, I imagine he would have had substantial difficulty if there had been more diners. As it was, the service was excellent throughout our meal, and continued to be excellent even after the arrival of another party.

A lot of dishes were ordered and shared, so I'll just be covering the ones that I tasted. I've tried to provide prices for these dishes at the end of this review. However, since Ninjafuzz ninja-ed the check, I don't have all of the prices and there won't be a total.

(When I say "ninja-ed", I mean he used his secret ninja arts on us and bogarted the bill. Ninjafuzz is actually a student and practitioner of modern ninjutsu. He jokes that as a student of the samurai battle technique of iaijutsu, I'm honor-bound to challenge him to a duel. I've so far refused. I know that conniving genius well. He'd probably slip powdered Altoids into my food and kick my ass while I was choking on the curiously strong, minty goodness. Suffice to say, I was on my guard during the entire dinner.)


(Chemical warfare.)

A master strategist, Ninjafuzz began by ordering us a bottle of nigori sake and plying me with drink. Opalescently sweet, it flowed down my throat, exploding in my head and stomach with saccharine warmth. Once I started, I just couldn't stop. I'm sure he was counting on this.


(Would you trust this man?)

Next up were six delectable filets of Maguro (Bluefin Tuna) sashimi, which Ninjafuzz passed around. Given his crafty expression, I was leery of his intentions. How do you trust a man with no eyes? Unfortunately, I was unable to resist the siren call of the "chicken of the sea".


(All dressed up.)

Resting on a bed of thinly sliced onions, drizzled with ponzu shoyu, and topped with a dab of Tobiko (Flying Fish Roe), the maguro was more dressed up than I was expecting. However, it was fresh and mouth-meltingly tender. While I would have preferred to enjoy the delicate flavor of the fish unadorned, the ponzu shoyu paired well with it.


(Sliced, dark, and delicious.)

Freshly returned from his travels in Japan and visiting from Cincinnati, K Love ordered a heaping plate of Bonito (Skipjack Tuna) sashimi, which he said was difficult find. Oily, sanguine, and rich, its earthy flavor contrasted nicely with bright tones of the ponzu shoyu with which it was dressed. As a fellow bonito fan, I agreed heartily with K Love's assertion that the bonito was excellent.


(Tails win.)

A few sips of nigori sake later, I was ready for something lighter. I ordered the Amaebi (Sweet Shrimp), which had a firm texture that was yielding without being mushy. I could really taste the natural sweetness of the shrimp's raw flesh, although the scattering of tobiko that the itamae seem compelled to add to almost everything was a little distracting. I was also disappointed when he didn't deep fry the heads and serve them to me on the side, as is customary. I felt like I was being charged market rate for half a dish.


(Real men eat natto.)

I was feeling a little mischievous, so I got a Natto (Fermented Soybean) roll for everyone to share. The itamae prepared it simply, with some chopped scallions for accent.

The smell of natto is highly distinctive, carrying with it associations of runny cheese and Athlete's foot. The flavor is an acquired one. Much like Marmite, if you didn't grow up eating it, you really have to work at liking it. The only person up to the natto challenge was K Love, who impressed me by taking two pieces.

Now that I'd gotten the preliminaries out of the way, I was ready to get down to the serious eating. Smile Sushi's Special Combination #3 came with soup, salad, rice, a sixteen piece, mixed nigiri and sashimi platter, a Spider Roll, a California Roll, and Prawn Tempura. It was an ungodly amount of food at an unbeatable price. I waived the soup, salad, and rice to make room for the good stuff.


(VII XLII's Thumb of Approval.)

Special Combination #3 Part 1 - Mixed Nigiri and Sashimi Platter

The sashimi was equal parts maguro and Sake (Salmon). The nigiri were bonito, Tako (Octopus), Ebi (Shrimp), maguro, Tai (Red Snapper), sake, and Hamachi (Yellowtail Tuna). Most of the selections were quite fresh, although a few pieces, like the tai, were obviously past their prime. They weren't dangerous to eat, but their flavor had degraded to the point that I was surprised the itamae had still served them.

Overall, I was satisfied with the platter. However, if it hadn't been part of a larger combination and such a good real, I might not have been as happy. Smile Sushi's strength doesn't seem to lie in classic preparations like nigiri or sashimi. The itamae did a decent job, but nothing on the platter wowed me.


(Amazingly long.)

Special Combination #3 Part 2 - Shrimp Tempura

Cutting shrimp and frying them into such long fingers is practically an art form. Here the itamae impressed me. The batter was a little bready, but nicely crispy. I shared these with my friends.


(Dynamic duo.)

Special Combination #3 Part 3 - Spider Roll and California Roll

The rolls were where the itamae really showed his skill. Although the soft shell crab in the Spider Roll was deep fried a little drier than I liked, the proportions were perfect. I enjoyed how balanced and melded the flavors were, and applauded the addition of both avocado and pickled carrot.
The California Roll was equally impressive. It was moist and juicy without being cloying. You see California rolls everywhere these days. Japanese restaurants are practically required to serve them, and you can find pathetic renditions in the deli sections of most grocery stores. Smile Sushi's version was at the upper end of the California roll spectrum. I shared both rolls with my friends as well.


(Oh so good! Moose like!)

According to Ninjafuzz, Smile Sushi's best offerings were rolls that fused Japanese flavors with tropical ones. At our urging, he ordered several examples of island fusion for us to sample.


(Odd couple.)

The Aloha Roll was filled with salmon, snow crab, and mango. The mango was surprisingly good with the salmon. I've tried fruit salsas on cooked salmon and haven't been impressed. But, somehow the richness of the raw salmon and sweetness of the mango worked together in this roll. It was excellent.


(There's a mouthful.)

Ninjafuzz loves San Jose. He worships the San Jose Sharks. It's no surprise, then, that he adores the roll that Smile Sushi has named after his fair city. After this display, I wasn't sure I wanted to see what he'd do with the roll named after the Sharks. It couldn't possibly be included in my review.


(The money shot.)

The San Jose Roll was composed of salmon and tuna on the outside, and avocado, eel, and cashews on the inside. It was topped with two types of tobiko and a milky, mayonnaise-based sauce. The cashews were a surprising addition to the classic pairing of avocado and eel, but they added a nice crunch and a pleasant, nutty fragrance that filled the mouth while eating. This was another excellent and inventive roll.


(Mounds of pure pleasure.)

I felt the need for one more roll to round out the evening. The Honeymoon Roll on the "Specials" whiteboard intrigued me, so I got one to share. It turned out to be the best roll of the evening. Filled with raw scallops and mango, and topped with eel sauce and a mayonnaise-based sauce, this horrific-sounding concoction somehow combined to form a flavor reminiscent of high grade Uni (Sea Urchin). The scallops added texture and briny ocean flavor. The mango added a different texture, along with mild sweetness. The eel sauce added a different kind of sweetness and the mayonnaise-based sauce added richness. It was truly remarkable.


Sweet ending.

An order of Deep Fried Ice Cream with chocolate sauce and berry coulis was the perfect palate cleanser. Stomach straining and eyes heavy, I knew that Ninjafuzz had won this round. He had me helpless and at his mercy. But, the sly devil just threw me a wink and snagged the check. After all, what are friends for?


Smile Sushi - Quality sushi at bargain (for NorCal) prices. The itamae's classical preparations are ok, but the rolls are where his true skills lie. The last three were some of the most inventive, yet sensibly tempered, fusion rolls I've had.



(Faithful steed.)

Just that dinner alone was well worth the trip.


The Bill (for six):

Nigori Sake - unknown
Maguro Sashimi - 11.50
Bonito sashimi - 11.50
Amaebi Nigiri - 5.75
Natto Roll - 3.25
Special Combination #3 - 31.95
Aloha Roll - 5.25
San Jose Roll - 10.50
Honeymoon Roll - unknown
Deep Fried Ice Cream - unknown


Flavor: B
Ambience: B+
Service: A
ROI: B+

Overall: B+


Smile Sushi
86 South First St. (& San Fernando)
San Jose, CA 95113
1-408-294-2238


(The song lyrics I quoted above, "Gloves to Ali" by Ghost Style, can be found on the soundtrack for the Initial D live action movie. If you haven't watched it yet, I highly recommend you go rent or buy it. It's an excellent film that even people who don't like street racing movies will enjoy. Hey, Cat liked it. Trailer below.)

Frenzy Sushi (Super Post) - Costa Mesa, CA [Eating]

(Pictures for this review taken with my Canon Powershot SD100.)



Tucked in the same little strip mall as the renowned Plums Cafe lurks one of Orange County's most overlooked culinary experiences. In an area where there are sushi restaurants on almost every block, the delight that is Frenzy Sushi has gotten lost in the shuffle as SoCalites lurch from one mediocre sushi experience to another. That's the way we locals like Frenzy; pleasant, homey, classy, unassuming, absolutely delicious, and relatively unknown.

Frenzy Sushi is one of those places that we Chowhounds love. Known only to the locals and boasting of superb eats, reasonable prices, and a friendly staff, this is one of those places where most of the regulars know each other by name. Sit down at the bar on a busy night, and it's almost guaranteed that the people sitting next to you will start drawing you into their conversation. Drinks are bought for, and shared by, random strangers, food is exchanged, and new friends are made; it's that kind of place. If you're the type of person who craves serene sushi dining in Zen-like contemplation, Frenzy can also accommodate, just not during dinner on the weekends.



The restaurant is the brainchild of Itamae (Skilled Sushi Chef) and owner John Arteaga, a seasoned veteran with over twelve years of experience in the field at a number of high-end and well-known sushi restaurants, including the famous Hama Sushi and the iconic Mitsuyoshi. Tired of seeing the same old ideas repeatedly regurgitated at every sushi restaurant, where freshness was sacrificed for style and flavor for presentation, John set out to break the boundaries between traditional sushi restaurants and California fusion sushi restaurants, creating a new, re-imagined style of sushi all his own. The product of a mixed marriage, John inherited his love of cooking from his Okinawan mother, and he imbues his food with his belief that flavors don't have to be traditional to be excellent.

John's cooking is solidly based on traditional Japanese sushi techniques, but he borrows liberally from Okinawan, Chinese, Korean, Vietnamese, and Cambodian cuisines. The result is a combination of high class traditional and fusion sushi dishes, where freshness and taste are paramount, and fusion is only done when the combination of ingredients will genuinely enhance the overall dish, never merely for the sake of fashion. When it comes to flavor, John is truly a purist.

Frenzy's motto, "Sushi Gone Wild", illustrates for John's belief that good cuisine knows no borders, as well as the fun and irreverent attitude he takes towards all things established. Make no mistake about it. The man is a sushi artisan trained in all of the traditional sushi-making techniques by some of the best sushi chefs in Southern California. He knows all the rules, and exactly how to break them.



As avant-guard as his philosophy may seem, the delicate tightrope John walks between the traditional and fusion seems to be paying off for him. Since Frenzy Sushi opened early last year, the restaurant has earned a number of glowing reviews from local and national publications, including this one from the Orange County Register and this one from the OC Metro. It's a credit to the restaurant's staff that the upswing in clientele resulting from these reviews hasn't diluted the restaurant's fine service and good-natured cheer.

Once a month or so, if I can afford it, I try to break away from my hectic existence as a salaryman and schedule a pilgrimage to Frenzy, my personal shrine to relaxation and bon temps. Friday night, I had about reached my stress limit at work when I realized that I was in desperate need of some alcohol-assisted unwinding. I sent out word to the usual suspects, and three of my top performers answered the call.



Fast becoming a regular on this blog, the first to answer the call was the Shire Nomad, my old college buddy, former flat-mate, and bottomless stomach.



Next was Mama Bear, another dear college chum and former flat-mate. Warm, generous, and caring to a fault, she earned her nickname by acting as our dorm's surrogate den mother and mother confessor so many years ago.



Finally, a party isn't a party without Mama Bear's husband, Single Malt; a man with a connoisseur’s tongue for fine Scotch, and whose Jewish frugality rivals my own genetic Asian ability to get blood from pennies. If any man could help me objectively critique Frenzy’s ROI score, he was the one.

Posse thus procured, arrangements were made to meet at the restaurant Saturday night at 7:00pm.



I arrived a little early and, as any good sushi lover does when they first step into a sushi restaurant, I scanned the whiteboard for the day's specials. Itamae John's playful and creative nature can clearly be seen in the selection of delicacies. The Cajun Tuna Tataki, Baked Butterfish, and Toro Tataki Nigiri all intrigued me. I vowed they would be mine to taste before the night was out.



After staking out four seats at the bar, I decided to start the "unwinding" process with a frosty glass of my favorite Wakatake sake (say that three times fast). Served in a frosty glass, it was cool, crisp, and smooth with a dry sweetness that was very pleasing. But, no true gentleman has sake without snacks. To this end, I procured the services of Shokunin (Sushi Sous Chef) Nori-san.



A good-looking, burly man who trains in K1-style full contact Karate and considers UFC "tame", Nori-san's rugged looks hide the delicate artist he is when he's not training to kick ass. He presented me with two plates to accompany my drink that showcased this duality of spirit.



The first plate represented Nori-san the fighter. Five shisamo (Japanese gravid female smelt) were dusted with sea salt and broiled until they were golden, brown, and almost burnt. Brushed lightly with the sliced lemon provided, they were rugged and bold. The slightly bitter charred bits, the savory browned skin, the salty richness of the roasted roe inside the fish, the tangy bite of the lemon juice, and the tingling burst from the salt grains combined to shout, "SMELT!" with each delicious mouthful. This was a straightforward, in-your-face dish that seized you by the tongue and didn't get go. It paired delightfully with the cleansing wash of the sake.



The second plate represented Nori-san the artist. A series of fine incisions were made into a succulent piece of mirugai (geoduck/giant clam) before it was cut into sashimi, causing the flesh to "flower" beautifully. Sprinkled with a little sea salt and served on a bed of julienned cucumber with a slice of lemon, this dish was even more simple than the shisamo, yet oh-so subtle and complex. The mirugai tasted clean and mildly of the sea. The flesh was resilient, yet broke apart easily when eaten the way only truly fresh mirugai will. The more you chewed, the more sweetness and flavor was released, accentuated by the sea salt and lemon. It was an excellently calculated offering, and also paired well with the subtle flavors of the sake.



The Shire Nomad was the first to arrive. Since he'd recently made the mistake of wandering into the local Fry's Electronics for a pair of new headphones and had staggered out with said headphones, video games, and a new 400GB hard drive, he was a little strapped. So, he went for one of his high-bulk low-cost sushi favorites, the Una-don (Eel Bowl).

Generous filets of unagi (freshwater eel) were brushed with Frenzy's special eel sauce and broiled to caramelized deliciousness before being laid over a heaping mound of sushi rice, then brushed with more special eel sauce. The result was tender, sweet, and savory unagi with each mouthful of plump rice.

What makes Frenzy's eel sauce so special? The secret is all in the way Itamae John prepares it. He won't let me in on the process, but the sauce is glossier and more flavorful than any other eel sauce I've encountered, with a complexity that compliments without overpowering. The sauce is an excellent example of how John fuses new cooking techniques and ingredients to improve on traditional flavors, and how he sensibly tempers his "Sushi Gone Wild" philosophy.



Mama Bear and Single Malt arrived soon after and ordered their standard palate cleanser of miso soup. Frenzy's miso soup is very traditional and very good, with just the right balance between the sweet bonito broth and salty miso. I've always enjoyed it.



Single Malt had a craving for Frenzy's signature shiromaguro (albacore) salad. Raw albacore tuna was blanched briefly in scalding hot water to sear the surface, then chilled immediately to preserve the rawness of the inner flesh, providing a wonderful contrast between raw and cooked albacore. The albacore was cubed and tossed in a ponzu-based dressing with julienned cucumber, shredded onions, sliced mushrooms, and quartered spears of homemade carrot pickles. The salad was stacked into a tower and garnished with toasted sesame seeds and dried bonito shavings. The tart, soft, and crunchy combination was out of this world.



Now that the key players were present, the real "unwinding" could begin. We started out by a few large bottles of Morimoto Black Obi Soba Ale, a special creation by Iron Chef Masaharu Morimoto. Imagine the dark bitterness of Guinness Stout. Now add a touch of sweetness from rice and soba (buckwheat), followed by a crisp finish with no aftertaste.



Single Malt and I decided to follow the beer up with oyster shots. John was busy with some other customers, so we decided to try Nori-san's version. Nori-san the fighter was in true form with this viciously strong concoction of soy sauce, lemon juice, the yolk of a quail egg, sake, and a raw Hamersley oyster from Washington state. The drinks seared their way down our throats as we knocked them back and left us with screaming tongues and clenched stomachs. Yet, within seconds, the shock to our systems had subsided and we could taste the flavors from the drink flooding our mouths. We liked it, and only Mama Bear's admonition against drinking too much kept us from ordering another.



Now pleasantly buzzed ("pissed" if you're British), we decided to eat until we were sober. The Shire Nomad was still nose deep in his Una-don, but the smell of the eel tempted Mama Bear and Single Malt into ordering the Caterpillar roll.

Broiled unagi fillets were rolled in nori (sheets of dried algae) and sushi rice, topped with thinly-sliced avocado, cut into rounds, and drizzled with Frenzy's special eel sauce. Each round was like a mini Una-don with a creamy avocado bonus. The roll was huge, and came with eight pieces. The three missing pieces in this photo were already in tummies before I could bring my camera to bear.



I decided to go for okonomi (a la carte orders). Nori-san highly recommended the maguro (Bluefin tuna in this case) and I wasn't disappointed. Each piece was like a tuna-rrific morsel of filet mignon from the sea.



Next, I needed to slake my hankering for hamachi (yellowtail tuna). Unfortunately, both Nori-san and John warned me away from it that night. It always pays to make friends with the itamae and the shokunin at every sushi bar you visit. They'll take care of you in the future and make sure you get the good stuff. Unwilling to give up on hamachi, I inquired about the hamachi no hara (yellowtail belly), which got nods of approval from both chefs. Folks, if you love toro (fatty tuna) but can't afford it on your budget, remember that yellowtail belly is Pepsi to toro's Coke. Like all animals, fish store a hefty portion of their fat in their belly flesh. Most sushi chefs throw the belly of the yellowtail away as rubbish, but John discovered that properly prepared, the belly of the yellowtail rivals the flavor and richness of toro at only a fraction of the price point.

Where's the other piece? That's right. In mah belleh! The yellowtail belly was firm and rich without being greasy or overpowering. Since of lot of the flavor of the fish is stored in the fat, yellowtail belly has an even more intense yellowtail flavor than the flesh. The serving I had that night blew me away.



Since that sexy bastard Kirk from mmm-yoso!!! had helped inspire this mad binge with Part 1 and Part 2 of his Restaurant Yakata review, I decided to pay him back by ordering something John had recommended to me when I had first walked in; the aji (Spanish mackerel).

Served with ponzu sauce, minced scallions, and grated chilied daikon radish, the aji was everything I dreamed it could be; milky, sweet flesh with a slightly chewy texture that melted into a creamy softness only accentuated by the tartness of the ponzu and the bite of the chilied daikon. Take that, Kirk!



The smell of the eel my friends were eating was really getting to me, so I ordered up some anago (saltwater eel). With a finer, richer flesh than unagi, the anago practically melted away in my mouth and left me craving more.



Instead, I opted for the briny, palate cleansing power of fresh Hama Hama oysters. The one in the front was prepared like the aji, with ponzu sauce, minced scallions, and grated chilied daikon. The one in the back was more simply prepared with lemon juice and shredded shisou leaf. Both were excellent and refreshing after the richness of the anago.



I wasn't done yet, though. John had been tempting me all night with the freshness of the uni (sea urchin genitalia) he had in the case. Since I can resist all things except temptation, I succumbed willingly to the uni's siren call.

The uni was perfect. The flesh was chilled, flowing over my tongue like egg yolk redolent with the flavors of the ocean. It was classically served in a cup made of nori and sushi rice, with wasabi and yuzu zest for accent, and so good that I ordered a second round.



Inspired by my sea critter binging, Mama Bear and Single Malt ordered the Cajun Tuna Tataki. Nori-san prepared it simply by coating a piece of tuna with John's special blend of Cajun and Japanese spices, then gently searing the outside with a blowtorch. It was served in classic sashimi-style on top of a bed of thinly sliced daikon with a little ponzu sauce drizzled over the top.

The Cajun Tuna Tataki is another example of John's subtle fusing of the traditional and West Coast techniques with his own subtle flare. Each piece was deliciously complex, with the varied heat and flavors of different chiles, the pungency of garlic, the tartness of the ponzu, the contrast between raw and cooked, and the aroma of the other spices.



At this point, I decided that our state of "unwoundedness" was fading too rapidly, so I bought a round of this excellent Juu-yon Dai Shochu, that one of John’s Japanese waitresses had procured for him from her home prefecture.

If you don't know what shochu is, it's the Japanese equivalent of Scotch or vodka, usually distilled from a root vegetable, wheat, and/or barley. It can have a 25-47% alcohol content. I don't know what they make Juu-yon Dai shochu out of, but that stuff is magic in a bottle. Smooth and sweet with a honeyed mouth-feel, it slid over our tongues and down our throats with nary a whisper. The bottle was gone before we knew it.



Pleasantly renewed, we decided to buffer ourselves with even more food. Mama Bear ordered the gyoza (Japanese-style potstickers). The gyoza at Frenzy is another great example of John's subtle fusion cooking. Acknowledging that the main weakness of most Japanese gyoza lies in their pasty, bland filling, John fused Japanese-style gyoza with their ancestors, the Chinese guo tie.

The skins retained their crispy crunch and al dente resilience, which were impervious to the potsticker sauce lightly sprinkled on. The filling was a combination of the Japanese cabbage-based filling and Beijing-style meat filling, including a rougher grind of pork and the addition of garlic and sesame oil to the ginger, scallion, and soy flavoring ingredients. The resulting potstickers appealed to all tastes, and did not need to rely on the sauce for their flavor.



I followed up with an order of shrimp shumai (steamed dumplings). As with the potstickers, John had recognized that the weakness of traditional Japanese shrimp shumai lay in the smoothness of the shrimp paste used to fill them. To help them appeal more to the American palate, he made them larger, intensified the flavors slightly, and stole a page from Cantonese-style dim sum by adding a meaty, plump shrimp to the top of each one. The resulting shumai combined the smooth texture of the shrimp paste with the chewy, juice resilience of the shrimp meat. These shumai practically exploded with juice in our mouths.



I still wanted to try the saikyo misoyaki (butterfish marinated in miso paste marinade and broiled). There's just no cooked fish that can beat this dish. Mildly sweet, savory, and caramelized on the top, the rich flesh melted away in my mouth, leaving a pleasantly buttery aftertaste that wasn't greasy. The radish sprouts and homemade pickled carrots helped cut the richness and refresh the palate between bites. Mama Bear and I loved this dish.



Since it was nearing closing time, I decided to combat our inebriation with its classic foil, fried foods. I ordered the biwa, another one of Frenzy's signature dishes.

Biwa is John's fusion take on the classic Scotch egg, which is traditionally a hard boiled chicken egg wrapped with raw sausage meat, breaded, and deep fried. John's version uses quail eggs wrapped in ebi (lightly poached shrimp), coated with tempura batter, and deep fried. The biwa are then halved and served with fresh cucumber slices, lemon slices for zest, a spicy garlic chile sauce, and a seasoned aioli of John's own devising. The blend of creamy yolk and aioli, tender shrimp, chewy egg white, and fiery chile is really invigorating. The raw cucumber helps you cool off between each hit. Single Malt and Shire Nomad were instant converts to the biwa experience.



I also wanted my friends to try my favorite roll, and another of John's special creations; the Firecracker roll. Fat tempura shrimp were wrapped in nori and sushi rice with avocado and cucumber. The roll was topped with a spicy, chopped hamachi, then drizzled with two of John's original aiolis. (I'd tell you what's in them, but that flavors are too complex to decipher, and John won't tell me his secrets.) Hefty dollops of Sriracha hot sauce were added to the top of each piece to give it that firecracker-like burst of heat. I really can't describe the flavor, save to say that it's the most delicious roll I've ever had, and I've had a lot of sushi in a lot of places, including NYC, Tokyo, SanFran, and the fishing docks of Kobe.



At this point, I was more worried about being able to get out of my chair than I was in being able to drive. But John had one more surprise up his sleeve. He gifted me with this order of Toro Tataki Nigiri. Large slices of toro were placed on fingers of rice, seared with a blowtorch, seasoned with a little ponzu, and topped with a fresh chile blend. The rare toro with its warm, melting fat, the familiar zing of the ponzu, and the heat of the chiles was an awesome way to close an excellent evening of fine dining...

... or so I thought.



What I didn't mention was that during our roughly four hour stay at Frenzy, we'd made friends with a pair of high spirited, intelligent, and attractive, law school students named Sophi and Erin. We'd shared our sake and beer with them, they'd bought us a few rounds, we'd helped them convince Nori-san to do three sake bombs, and managed to give everyone including John and Nori-san, healthy Asian glows (gotten them nicely pissed). As I wrote in my introduction, Frenzy is just that kind of place.

To thank our new found friends, I bought an order of deep fried ice cream for them, and one for myself. Single Malt liked the idea of deep fried ice cream so much that he ordered one too.

Frenzy's deep fried ice cream is another example of the excellent balance between flavors and textures in its cuisine. Scoops of ice cream are carefully wrapped in thin pieces of pound cake, covered in a sweet batter, and deep fried. Given a light topping of whipped cream, they're served and eaten immediately. The hot, crunchy light batter, the buttery whipped cream, and the moist pound cake and cold, sweet ice cream contrast and compliment one another beautifully. That was the perfect way to end a perfect evening.


Frenzy Sushi - For the best sushi in Orange County at a highly competitive price point. Where the fish are always fresh and delicious, and the only roll with creamy imitation crab filling is the California roll. Go there. You won't be disappointed. Better yet, stay away. We locals would rather not fight a crowd to experience the awesome flavors of Sushi Gone Wild.


Bill (for four):

Okonomi binge of death - 196.59

Tax - 15.24
Tip - 39.39

Total - 251.22


Flavor: A+
Ambience: A+
Service: A+
ROI: A (For what we ate in quality and taste, totally worth $60 per person.)

Overall: A+



Frenzy Sushi
369 E 17th St, #17
Costa Mesa, CA 92627
1-949-646-1333
http://www.frenzysushi.com/