Sushi nya Kita impresses during its opening week

Sushi nya Kita impresses during its opening week

It started out like a chapter from Epicurus' Bad Days journal.
It was 9 p.m. on a Friday night and there was practically no
vacant parking spot in sight on Jl. Kemang Raya, South Jakarta.

"Does it have to be Kemang?" groaned my partner, who claimed
he hadn't eaten all day. But he knew only too well how to
interpret my silence. Yes, it had to be Kemang.

After several unproductive U-turns, a parking spot on a
seemingly vacant lot sprung up on us like Perrier in the middle
of a sandstorm. What's more, it was wedged between the Sundanese
eating house Warung Bit Bet and the popular Raja Thai restaurant,
both high on my secret priority list.

It was only after we were out of the car that I realized that
the lot wasn't an extension of either restaurants. A white cloth
sign, buoyed ever so slightly by the light evening breeze, glared
at me, almost obscuring the flurry of activities inside the
building before us. On it was artfully printed in black brush
strokes: Sushi nya Kita. From outside, it looked more like an art
gallery, more deserving of Berber's signpost. Yet, as I was to
find out, this roughly one-week-old establishment houses one of
the most promising Japanese kitchens in town. Better still, it
promised a 20 percent discount.

Hipness seems an unwritten rule in the "eatertainment"
business these days, and this new outfit is no different. At
least in its intentions, that is. Combining typically clean-cut
and well-scrubbed Japanese-style efficiency and a liberal
splashing of eclectic asymmetry, it tries a bit too hard to make
a point.

The wall itself is a playful mix of gray limestone and blended
yellows with a rough finish -- a tribute to Laras philosophy, no
doubt. Twelve or so still-life floral paintings adorn two sides
of the wall, a tad too clustered and the worse possible
embellishment for a Japanese-theme den, if you ask me. Though the
blue and mauve dining ensemble is no contender for an ergonomics
award, the 12-seat floating sushi bar is actually a rather cool
concept, especially if it serves its function of displaying the
establishment's every single delicacy on a crowded day. Call it
Balemang Cafi on a minor scale.

Yet the overall impression was that of colorful, casual,
yuppefied inventiveness that definitely cuts ice with the young,
voguish, mainstream set. As we braved our way through the sea of
enthusiastic corporate first-timers, all of whom practically
screamed "the new middle class" in their DK ensembles, we felt
apologetically old and old-fashioned. OK, so society's beau monde
might still favor their weekly seats at Aryaduta's Shima or Sari
Pacific's Keyaki, but the trend now is to go for the same quality
for less money.

The menu is comprehensive and decipherable. The Nigiri sushi
section boasts standard favorites of Tae (snapper), Unagi (eel),
Hamachi (yellowtail fish), Toko (Octopus), Torigai (clam),
Hokatagai (scallop) and much, much more. The Hosomaki/Temaki
sushi section offers a similarly exhaustive selection including
the ubiquitous California Maki (crab stick, avocado, and fish
roe).

As is commonly the case with Japanese restaurants, the sushi
is rather expensive, with one order of nigiri sushi costing
between Rp 6,000 (US$2.45) to Rp 15,000 for only two meager
slivers, and the California Maki costing up to Rp 18,000 per
order. But these are excellent sushi, needing only a hint of
wasabi for enhancement. Small wonder, given that the seafood is
imported from Japan and is so wonderfully fresh. A deliciously
practical choice is the Sushi Moriawase (Rp 29,000), which
consists of nine varieties, including Sake (Tuna), Tamago (egg)
and Tobiko (flying fish roe, which in itself is Rp 15,000 per
order).

Equally recommended is the Sashimi Moriawase. To avoid making
costly mistakes, Rp 26,000 for seven carefully-selected
conservative varieties should do the trick. For the more
adventurous, the restaurant's "Original" list seems to be the
answer.

Sporting snappy titles like Just Cause and It's All About
Kemang, these dishes are the restaurant's original culinary
inventions.

"What do they look like?" I asked the ultra-hip female owner.

"Oh, they generally look like sushi," she said in her
infectious cheerfulness, "But with a difference." Which is the
only way one can describe a mouth-watering combination of smoked
tuna, cream cheese and avocado.

If anything, Sushi nya Kita buttressed the fact that there is
no substitute for a) food quality, and b) personalized service.

First of all, every meal we ordered was light and scrumptious,
with the Salmon Teriyaki set menu topping the lot. The broccoli
may have been a tad overcooked, but it didn't even merit
consideration once we got to the salmon -- an ambrosial blend of
succulence and a perfect sauce. The Ebi Tempura, another set menu
accompanied by rice, miso soup and fresh fruits, was lightly
battered and very tasty.

When the owner came to clear our table, I practically
beseeched her: "Think what you like, but we can't seem to stop.
Please, recommend us something else."

Her whole face lit up like a Christmas tree, happy but in a
nice, self-effacing way. Leafing through the menu, she finally
pointed at Gindara Tareyaki (Grilled Halibut) in the Robatayaki
(barbecue) section. "At a paltry Rp 4,000, this is our cheapest
dish. Yet it is quite possibly the nicest of them all."

Subjectivity aside, she was dead-on. The fish was supremely
tender, the sauce delicious -- a fitting bonus to the
unforgettable teriyaki experience. Who cares about dopey waiters
who still struggle with the menu, or the erratic, "forgive-us-
first-timers" food delivery system? There's much to improve on,
but if the food is anything to go by, it will hopefully come with
time.

Which brings us the point B, of course. I hate sounding like a
promotion board, but look out for that lady with the beautiful
smile who greets, serves and pampers you. Just like the food,
which leaves us pining for more and in love with life, she really
makes a difference.

-- Epicurus