Since I can't seem to keep my psyche out of my reviews, we will call this one my coming of age story. Ever since I can remember I always wanted to be an epicurean. Back when Kuni's first opened (Early 90's?) the original restaurant was on Elmwood. At that time, long before Ahi Tuna was overfished and ubiquitously omnipresent (redundant?), sushi was prepared with an eye towards simplicity. Back in the day the quality of sushi depended on the fish itself, not by gloppy sauces, crunchy bits or rolls which look like dragons. Leave it to the Americans to take a healthy, minimalist meal and turn it into a fount of decadence, but I digress.
Kuni's is where I made my bones in the sushi world. Dining there often with my best friend, now a chef, we excitingly delved into Kuni's menu, each time becoming bolder in our choice of fish. I remember when I ordered unagi (bbq eel) for the first time. It was probably the scariest looking thing I had ever put into my mouth (at that point)...and it was amazing. Unagi changed my world: creamy, crusty on the outside, sweet and succulent, I realized that eel is absolutely amazing. What other culinary wonders were there to behold? We knew we had to push ourselves as far as we could go...where only brave men dared to tread. We had to try the ultimate underground delicacy: uni (sea urchin roe sack). Mind you, this was before Iron Chef made it to American TV so we had no idea what a culinary delicacy uni was, we only knew it was the scary, yellow thing that separated the men from the boys. We cleansed our palate with some pickled ginger, picked up the uni, dipped it into a bit of soy and took a bite. Creamy and metallic with a hint of the sea and the texture of foam, I was in love. Kuni's had popped my cherry turning me from a culinary boy, into to an epicurean man.
Kuni retired shortly thereafter, as sushi restaurants popped up everywhere. Frankly, I did't blame him. People wanted rolls where the flavor of the fish disappeared and demanded Wegman's Prêt-à-Porter sushi. It was the day...the suuuuuushi died...and I was singing bye, bye...
After that SeaBar opened, and Mike A started doing some crazy twists on sushi. I loved what Mike was doing, but I missed Kuni's. Kuni's was intimate and traditional, not avant garde and impersonal. Then Kuni unretired(?) and took over the old Lexington Co-Op, but I could not bring myself to go back. I was done with sushi; I was jaded after staring into the abyss and living to tell the tale.
After years I decided to finally go back. I mean it's planted right next to my favorite bar, I could only avoid it for so long. I wanted to see if Kuni could still wow me after all this time. My Wife and I sat at the bar and my eyes dilated as they began to grasp the breadth and depth of liquors behind the bar. They had a wonderfully large selection of Saki, Shochu and Japanese Whiskey. So I opted for a single malt Yamazaki on the rocks to help me peruse the menu, and help me it did.
I knew Kuni's is a go bold or go home kind of place, so I knew the only option for me was the large omakase, with a note to the chef that I wanted his boldest fare. I also ordered some jellyfish and fried octopus to start, it was amazing; I didn't even know jellyfish was edible up to that point.
Well Kuni did not pull back any punches with me, and provided me with a plate of the rarest delicacies I have ever eaten in a sushi restaurant. To start, he had some of the standard fare, Ahi Tuni, Toro (fatty belly of Tuna), seared albacore and salmon. Then he added bolder selections like octopus and Spanish Mackerel. I have never liked Spanish Mackerel in the past as it usually has way too strong of a flavor. This Mackerel was smooth and mild, absolutely wonderful and one of the best fish on the plate. However, that merely whet my appetite for his rarer pairings: herring roe sack, codfish roe sack, Ika no Shiokara (Fermented Squid) and (wait for it) Monkfish liver (cue the Angelic music). The codfish roe sack was very salty with a firm, almost rubbery texture, while the herring roe sack was also salty, but was very soft and exploded a myriad of tiny bits of roe which popped in my mouth like fishy tasting pop rocks. These selections were a wonderful counterpoint to each other. The fermented squid was also wonderful, and much less bold tasting then I would have imagined. As for the crown jewel, it was definitely the monkfish liver. It had a foie gras taste, texture and consistency with a slight hint of the sea. It was one of the greatest things I have ever eaten. Mark my words, monkfish liver will become the underground food sensation that uni once was.
Thank you Kuni! Not only have you ushered me through my awkward culinary teenage years, but as a jaded, aging food lover you have once again given me something new and exciting to keep me tethered to my path: To find the world's greatest foods...and eat them. read more