The Herald - The Herald Magazine
Japanese cuisine No prizes for originality but sushi this fresh and this good is hard to beat
SLIVERS of raw sea bass arrive arranged like a kiss from a rose on the grey, to steal a line from Seal, who’s coincidentally singing sweetly on the sound system right now. Sprinkles of orange flying fish roe are dusted over fish the chef has carefully arranged into petals.
It’s fresh, cool and delicate eating as, outside, Glasgow’s Byres Road bakes quietly in the unusual June heat.
“That sea bass just came in today,” the waiter had said earlier while gesturing to the counter where a woman is preparing sushi. “It’s super, super fresh but” – and he added this ominously – “I’ll be honest with you, because there is no point in lying. The sweet shrimp sashimi are frozen.”
This is not that shocking considering where we are (Scotland) and where those shrimp come from (Japan, maybe). They are pretty little things, cleanly prepared, lovingly laid to rest on dark grey ceramics, gleaming even in the muggy evening sun. And tasting of, well, absolutely nothing.
Sushi may have lost its eastern mystique the minute Marks & Sparks started banging out sanitised versions from a high-street chill counter near you but it, and definitely sashimi, remain something best eaten where you can trust the kitchen. Or better still see it.
I’ve been in E Sushi for half an hour or so and already know who their fish supplier is, how apparently difficult it is to get live Scottish prawns and that the original idea for the restaurant’s name was that customers would order from those little Lenovo tablets that are on every table – showing dishes in glorious true colour.
“Some customers would be pressing the tablets to order and it wasn’t coming up in the kitchen while other customers wouldn’t be touching their tablets at all and orders were coming up in the kitchen. We had to stop all that ordering.” Indeed.
Tuna sashimi, then? This fish is caught in India; Scottish mackerel are soused sweetly and deliciously in soy and vinegar. Pause for some ika karage – light, tender squid in a diaphanous tempura with chilli, sea salt and sesame. This is definitely the weather for eating sushi, but tonight as we swelter in the sticky heat, the best, most refreshing thing is that soft, succulent and vibrantly green mound of crunchy kaiso seaweed sesame.
Seaweed is something else we have rather a lot of in Scotland and, if you follow the latest American food fads, something that has just been rediscovered and is crossing the Atlantic like a billowing squall to appear on a plate, a snack-pack or even a crisp packet near you.
If you pop into any of Glasgow’s many Chinese supermarkets and see rows of cartoon-character packets containing dried, flavoured, impossibly delicate stacks of seaweed wafers, it’s pretty clear Korean schoolchildren at least have been enjoying the health benefits of seaweed for a very long time. And let’s not say anything about the Highland Clearances.
Now, did I mention the eel fried rice? Space is made among glazed earthenware bowls containing soy and wasabi, green tea and chopsticks, and that Lenovo tablet is moved as a huge dish of this arrives.
This baffles me. Not that I didn’t order it. I did. I just forgot. But it’s only £3 on the menu. Is this the same thing? Never mind. It’s an unctuous, sweet and slightly sticky concoction, the eel chunks seared or spread throughout in flakes. A lingering flavour of eel after every mouthful. You’ll know whether you like that.
It’s now quarter to 10. The kitchen closed at 9.30pm and the other customers, including quite a few Japanese couples, have left. I’m still talking to the manager about fish. Squat lobster, I say. “Yes, he says. “We could do those.” Michelin-starred restaurants across Europe are now serving raw Scottish prawns and scallops, sliced with razors, served with glory. “Price,” the waiter says. “Would people pay here?”
Maybe they would – and it could raise this honest little place to the next level.