This is what I get for not posting a meal until 3 months later: restaurant closure due to insufficient biz. Not that I’m implying my wee bit blog spot could’ve saved a venerable itamae, but…

Over the weekend, thru the sushi grapevine, I heard Katsu, of Katsu Studio City fame, circa 1980s of Tama Studio City fame, of Katsu Beverly Hills, closed his “shop” as of last Monday, the 13th. This is upsetting news. I’ve been to Tama restaurant a number of times, sometimes for lunch, sometimes for dinner. It was always before or after visiting a past friend. Since discontinuing correspondence with that fellah, I’ve stopped doing the super affordable omakases at Tama. Then Tama shuttered after Chef Michite opened a new restaurant in Beverly Hills last year and I told myself we could visit more frequently. Except I rarely made it. Beverly Drive might as well be Ventura Blvd.

Mr. Michite came to the United States in 1969. He’s been slicing and chefing for well over 35 years since that time. 2009 marks the only time since opening the original Katsu he has had to close his restaurant doors due to anything but a disaster. Katsu-san is one of the few officiated chefs belonging to Tokyo Sushi Kenkyu Sanchokai, a “prestigious group headquartered in Tsukiji” and beyond Shibucho’s Shige-san, he is one of the few chefs in LA in front of whom I always felt at ease and tranquil. Now, after not even 1 year in the new dig, he is without a restaurant as the old Tama was sold to the OTHER (evil?) Katsu(ya Uechi) , his former competition just down the street back in October of ‘08.

Here is a great article telling his story, circa 2002: Sushi & Tofu.

Here’s a post (including my quick reply) on Chowhound on “Why Tama sushi.. is the best” from 2006.

Here’s a quick rundown of a meal we had back a few months back in April, 2009, for a birthday celebration.

First round of nigiri: Kinme Dai Left, Halibut right. No soy

Right to Left, shima aji, kanpachi, hamachi belly, toro

Shigoku oyster, baby squid, uni, hotate

Something has to be said about the Shigoku oyster. According to the Oyster Guide, it’s a new variety recently introduced to the market. Simply put, these critters were unlike anything I’ve previously tasted. Grown in Washington, they were so clean, so compact, yet not overtly chewy, fitting perfectly within the nori, packed with subtle briny flavor. Just a superior thing over the Kumamotos we’ve recently all grown so accustomed.

It was all lovely. Chef Michite belongs to the Edo style. Rice a bit vinegary, not too impacted, not too cold, nearly room temp, fish cuts not obscenely large, just showing calculated artistic irregularity.

As of Monday the 20th, a call to the restaurant gets a number re-direction to what is presumably Katsu-san’s personal line. See, I fact check. Sorta.

A sad day for the LA sushi scene.

Katsu

2 visits in 4 days (and a small green kabocha) is how fear turned into awe.

Last Saturday nite, post drinking (Suntory scotch with a splash), I was in a sudden rush to catch Shigen-san before midnite. Thanks to some fine red wine loving folks with whom I shared an epic Shibucho dinner earlier in the week, I somehow promised the infamous itamae a freshly picked kabocha would be presented to him that weekend and by god, I wanted to be a man of my words.

For nearly 10 years I’ve wanted to do Shibucho while sitting in front of Shige-san. After the final course of the perfectly appropriate piece of toro (not otoro, NOT chu-toro, really, too “greasy” like “100 grams of Japanese kobe beef”), I admitted my long dormant fears to Shige-san with impunity. What followed, was the most gentle telling of a Gastro Life (Japanese car magazines always used phrases like “Car Life”, “Tuning Life”, etc.) by a never-retiring itamae I’ve experienced, in a room with no one present, over a cup of green tea freshly brewed by hand, from loose matcha, natch.

And folks, that is how one should end a nite of debauchery. Screw the 25 Degree Burger, forget the bowl of haejang gook. Have a bowl of miso made from house-made dashi, followed by some shiromi (engawa, tai, kanpachi – holy shit, that is the softest piece of kanpachi I’ve ever had, not 1 iota of noticeable striation, kanpachi, buri), followed a nimono of 2 pieces of anago; followed by a revelation of how a sushi chef stays healthy: no breakfast, only coffee, dinner of often only quality miso soup with lots of vegetables, and no grease; followed by a sushi chef’s disdain of what has gone wrong in Little Tokyo: bunch of rowdy people in Honda Ya’s smoking in front of fake “Itlian” restaurant in Honda-Ya Plaza (2nd St Cafe, previously blogged here), Korean-operated sushi joints offering 50% off rolls ala Tenno Sushi.

That wasn’t all tho. The take home point of the nite, to poorly paraphrase the itamae cum food philosopher of the nite: “chefs can’t eat too heavy, his cooking won’t taste right”. Ya know, it really made a lot of sense at 1am.

A parting thought: To communicate mano-a-mano with Shige-san, the stars and the moon don’t have to align. You just need an empty restaurant, and this wisdom dished out so eloquently by a LA Chowhound poster back in ‘01:

the “strike zone” at Shibucho, at least until you win Shige over, is somewhere above “know little” and below “know it all.”

Shibucho
3114 Beverly Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90057

Toshi’s Sushi
359 E 1st St
Los Angeles, CA 90012
(213) 680-4166

Strangely enough, the omakase menu (ala Tama) is pre-set. $60 for the full sashimi/cooked menu, $40 for the sashimi/sushi menu only. No blue crab roll to be found. Nearly crunchy young yellowtail was a bit shocking to my senses but a nice deviation from everyday offerings. Ocha steamed squid was soft and a nice opposition to the giant clams.The scallops as well as the Spanish mackerel tasted just about perfect.

Watching the knarly ebi being shelled alive right out of a tank beneath the bar made all of our day. (Shrimp head served 2 ways, fried or in miso soup just like Sushi Gen.. but fresher) The fluffy chawan mushi egg custard was better than anything I can whip out at home while the mushy/slimey seaweed app smelled of wonderful yuzu. Ryo-san advised his rice is brown-ish due to use of dark vinegar and brown sugar. “Traditional” he says.

Bottom line: 2.5 hours of omakase happiness interjected with pleasant conversation with a neighboring frequent solo diner (hi “JC”, great talkin’ to ya, hope you enjoyed the mochi ice cream). $60 isn’t typical of Southbay prices, but it is definitely a cut above Kanpachi, my current budget sushi haunt.