I sat across the table from my friend Gil at Yohachi Sushi on Esplanade Avenue and surveyed the beautifully crafted platter of sashimi that had been set down before us.
Appropriately bite-sized, impeccably sliced morsels of seafood populated the plate alongside grated wasabi, ginger, and shiso leaves on the stem. The assortment represented the very freshest of Yohachi’s daily supply and included delicate and ornate strips of cuttlefish, tuna belly, yellowfin tuna, salmon, salmon roe, and prawns.
These latter were served in a dramatic, deconstructed presentation, with tails attached but heads removed. The heads, pale coral when raw, were taken away by our server just after we had begun to eat and were later returned on a separate plate, having been deep fried until golden brown and crispy.
These fried delicacies, with their thin, crunchy exoskeleton and tender, moist, brainy bits, are positively delicious and should not be missed, irrespective of the common Western aversion to looking one’s food squarely in the eye prior to eating it.
Despite the succulent selection provided by the kitchen, it was the final item on the platter that we were most excited about: uni, which is in season now through the middle of winter.
Four delicate mounds of this creamy, orange-hued sea urchin roe sat unaccompanied on one edge of the platter, as if they had not been invited to play with the other sea creatures in the school yard. There was something sadly symbolic about their ostracism as uni is a woefully misunderstood food that provokes undue revulsion in many.
To be fair, it is remarkable that uni has found its way into the human diet at all. What manner of desperate hunger or mad experimentation must have driven the first person to venture a taste?
The prickly and uninviting sea urchin, studding the cold depths of the ocean, is not an intuitive meal by any standard. It requires delicate handling and a steely resolve to wrest one from the seabed and crack its hard, spike-covered shell, sift through its briny internal mire to unearth and pluck out its quivering, paste-like egg sacks, then pop them into one’s mouth without so much as a glance in the direction of a cooking apparatus.
I am eternally grateful to the intrepid, pioneering gastronome who first blazed this bold path for the rest of us; I hope that your clearly tormented mind has at last found quiet, away from the peculiar temptations of the ocean floor that so vexed you once upon a time.
I am a big fan of uni now; I proclaim it proudly, but must confess that it wasn’t always so. My first dozen experiences with the odd substance, the taste of which
I can only describe as a faintly sweet, soft-set custard of fish and surrealism, produced an involuntary shudder.
Over time, I grew to tolerate it, and eventually, when served the freshest imaginable morsel from the depths of an urchin that had been in the ocean only seconds before, I found a deep appreciation for its unmatched complexity.
It is an uncontestable prerequisite in the enjoyment of uni that the roe is as fresh as can be; old uni takes on a fetid pungency that risks putting the squeamish off forever. This requires finding a reputable supplier that turns over the product sufficiently quickly and knows how to handle and serve it. Yohachi is just such a supplier, the deft hands and experience of knowledgeable sushi chef and owner Takuya Iwaki ensuring that patrons stand the best shot at enjoying some of the ocean’s more unusual treasures.
Gil and I enjoyed a sublime meal there, the first experience of the restaurant for both of us.
Prior to our sashimi odyssey, we enjoyed a course of pine mushroom Dobinmushi, a gorgeously bold broth of earthy, nutty pine mushrooms, chicken and shrimp served in a compact teapot with a tiny cup.
Patrons are to drink the sophisticated elixir first and then tackle the hearty, meaty morsels of mushrooms afterwards; it is an unusual, memorable dish that makes an ideal first course. Next up was an order of crispy, nicely seasoned soft shell blue crabs and an impossibly tender, moist and rich Kakuni, pork braised in a sweet and salty soy sauce.
Inspired by the relentless creativity and exceptional quality of chef Iwaki’s food, Gil and I opted for an utterly unnecessary dessert of soft and buttery, sake-marinated sablefish and boldly flavoured, skin-on grilled mackerel. Both dishes were exquisite in their simplicity and left us thoroughly sated.
A 300-millilitre bottle of chilled Junmai Ginjo sake and a frosty pint each of Sapporo draft beer paired very well with the meal.
Our indulgent and exceedingly large meal was $160 before gratuity. Yohachi sashimi platters can be custom prepared to accommodate any budget.
Yohachi Sushi is located at 171 West Esplanade Ave. yohachi.ca
Chris Dagenais served as a manager for restaurants downtown and on the North Shore. A self-described wine fanatic, he earned his sommelier diploma in 2001. Contact: [email protected].
