Bob San
Proper raw-fish minimalists typically have nothing but scorn for the dark sound-tracked nightclubs that chum fashionable neighborhoods for suckers eager to accessorize their nights out with gaudy fish candy. With a dining area and lounge, Bob San has the latter market locked up—it’s the place to be seen washing down your crabby dragon roll with a saketini. So hats off to Bob Bee. He’s a hell of a businessman, but no bottom feeder: the sushi bar at Bob San is also a haven for people who take their sashimi and sushi seriously. Show a little interest and Bee and his knowledgeable crew will guide you through the day’s best and most unusual catches, presenting them in artful textural combinations and contrasts that don’t distract from their God-given freshness—a face-off between fresh- and saltwater eel, for example, or a plate of engawa, the pale pink and resilient fin muscle of a flounder, or a tip to punch up your already lusty mackerel with a bit of refreshing shiso leaf. In these encouraging circumstances it’s easy to forget what comes from the kitchen; simple, winning dishes like gomae or black cod with miso, a heartbreakingly silky and ephemeral piece of fish that dissolves in the mouth like a dream of lush beauty. —Mike Sula
I guess Chicago wasn’t ready for an all-kaiseki restaurant. Elaborate multicourse dining based on simple, pure ingredients chosen to philosophically coincide with the changing seasons was an ambitious idea for this town, and the meal I ate at Matsumoto, Isao Tozuka and chef Seijiro Matsumoto’s Albany Park restaurant, was one of my most memorable. But despite intense media interest the place never seemed to be occupied by more than a few diners at a time. The doors closed, ostensibly for vacation, and when the restaurant reopened as Chiyo, the great Matsumoto—a man licensed to prepare fugu in five cities—was gone. Kaiseki is still available (it must be ordered four to five days in advance), but now Tozuka and his charming wife, Chiyo, focus on more conventional Japanese fare including teriyaki, sukiyaki, and shabu-shabu with a choice of prime or Wagyu beef airfreighted from Japan. The last two are showy performances in their own right, and Chiyo is still a restaurant where one can sample the uncommon, like ankimo, or monkfish liver, otherwise known as the foie gras of the sea. The standard array of sushi and sashimi items is available, prepared with skill, though somehow lacking the pristine freshness that Matsumoto delivered. —Mike Sula
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Clean lines and Japanese decor make a pleasing setting for good simple cuisine. Sushi and other fresh fish dishes are winners, although they arguably don’t meet the same high standard they did years ago. Carryout is easy if you’re in a hurry. Kids are welcome, and the menu offers plenty they’re likely to enjoy, such as noodle dishes and teriyaki chicken. There’s also a private tea room. —Laura Levy Shatkin
Let us rejoice that places like Ginza Restaurant—housed in the divey Tokyo Hotel—live on amidst River North gentrification. A comfortably worn hole-in-the-wall, it attracts downtown workers and Japanese, the latter always a good sign. Don’t look for fancy-pants maki or “fashion sushi”; instead you’ll find old-school sushi and sashimi platters, reasonably priced for the neighborhood. But Ginza—in addition to predating the sushi fad that began in the 80s and has only grown more frenzied—is perhaps best known for traditional home-style Japanese dishes such as piping hot noodle soups and tonkatsu, a breaded, deep-fried pork chop. Service is congenial, and you’ve gotta love the unpretentious, pale wood sushi bar, chefs working away behind it diligently. It’s a far cry from the Bloomingdales home store in the old Masonic temple. —Kate Schmidt
Long before the tsunami of overpriced, overdesigned sushi bars struck West Town, Katsu Imamura was quietly and unpretentiously elevating sea creatures to their edible ideal in less fashionable West Rogers Park. No Prada-toting poseurs cram this pair of narrow dining rooms, but Imamura and his wife, Haruko, have earned the loyalty of traveling Japanese businessmen and discerning locals with their friendly attention and superb high-quality fish. The best approach is to place your fate in Imamura’s artist’s hands and allow him to craft a sashimi combination of his choice. Long slabs of that day’s most beautiful fish drape over each end of the rice, accented with fresh minty shiso leaf, tiny mounds of caviar, and flecks of gold leaf. Nigiri is generously portioned; Imamura says that while most sushi chefs use their four fingers as a measurement, he sizes it against his four fingers splayed. That’s just one way in which Katsu, despite prices that can be steep (special sushi combos range from $38 to $48, and a multicourse special chef’s menu is $100 and up with advance reservations), surpasses the still more exorbitant see-and-be-seen scenes. Don’t overlook the cooked dishes and specials, which make the most out of the rare and seasonal: a grilled yellowtail jaw, amazingly moist and tender, is armored with crispy caramelized bits. Nuggets of lightly fried flounder fillet crown the fish’s equally delicious, delicate, extra-crispy skeleton. A saucer of raw quail’s egg atop a pile of shredded daikon, green onion, and wasabi is meant to be mixed into a cup of cold tea and used as a dip for green-tea buckwheat noodles. Even simple dishes like thin grilled slices of steaky beef tongue or a tender sectioned squid come off like they were born, raised, and sacrificed just for you. —Mike Sula
