Given the short time sushi has been around, it’s startling how prevalent and entrenched it’s become. True, depending on where you live may determine how easily you can find it. In larger and coastal cities, it’s everywhere. You can pick up a few maki bites in supermarkets for ten bucks or you can make a reservation to go top of the line with an omakase experience. Be prepared to drop anywhere from $100 to $450 per person for that indulgence. Pronounced oh-muh-kaa’-say, it means “I leave it up to you” or “I trust you, chef.” Regardless of what you think about eating raw fish, freshness and quality are the real drivers powering diners’ cravings for this indulgence. Taste is critically important too of course, which is why flavor accents in the form of sauces and high intensity embellishments like truffles aren’t uncommon. Flown in fresh daily to restaurants all over the world, it’s remarkable fish supplies can still satisfy a demand that persistently grows. That ability is waning. Just like other protein options in our diet, sustainability issues are rising around sushi. Its impact on fish populations and the climate are also growing. Because of that, some sushi restaurants are trying to move away from the standard model by avoiding overfished species and experimenting with substituting locally available fish in their offerings. Q Sushi Bar and Omakase is not one of those places.
Even though it enjoys very high ratings as a Chicago sushi destination, it wouldn’t be accurate to call the restaurant classically traditional. Spare clean lines characterizes its look. Just north of Lawrence, with its big tinted windows looking out on Damen Avenue, it throws a patina of chic. Modern and self-assured, it fits in well with other stylishly trendy establishments lining the street. Inside, it seemed to be putting on airs. A few minutes early for a reservation, we were asked to have a seat in the lounge; a small minimalist couch and chair set against the wall near tables occupied by diners. Calling the seating a “lounge” was a tad excessive. Although it’s common, it’s not always compulsory that you sit at the counter during an omakase meal. After asking if it would be possible to be seated at a table for the evening, the host responded with a quick, hard “No!”. He didn’t explain why it wasn’t possible. From the look on his face, and maybe because a diner at another table laughed loudly at his response, he recognized his breach and retreated to a less abrasive posture before seating us. By then, the tone of the evening had been set.
It soon became clear why table service wouldn’t be possible. This was performance omakase where diners were expected to witness the knife and assembly skills of the chef. In this case, the show was more like what you’d expect to find in America’s West when it was wild or in an SNL skit. Loose, a little wacky and something of a hoot make a better descriptive of this sushi bar’s approach to omakase. A lot of people might love it. In Japan, top sushi chefs are revered. It can take a decade to go through the formal training to become respected in the craft. There, in addition to expert knife skills, “precision, grace and charm” can be as valuable as technical prowess. And Q’s chef, with his casually hip persona, did have a certain charm.
Sushi can take several forms and often during an omakase meal more than a few are represented. Most of us know makizushi rolls, or maki rolls; a smattering of ingredients laid on a bed of rice, rolled in nori (dried pressed seaweed) and cut into segments. Nigiri is another style of presentation. A slice of fish is placed on a pressed ball of seasoned rice, dabbed with accents and served. Slivers of ginger act as condiments. You’re intended to pick each serving up with chop sticks and eat it in one bite. If the rice is too loose, it becomes unwieldy or breaks. If the fish and rice ball are too large, they’re an effort to consume in a single bite. It’s essential that the size of the rice ball be perfectly matched to the slice of fish and that the texture of the rice ball be perfect. Q’s rating on this metric was a little wanting. Although sashimi is often thought of as a compulsory part of an omakase, it’s not. Still, thinly sliced raw fish with no accompaniment other than a sauce or slice of ginger is as close to purity as you can get. At this juncture, Q Sushi’s omakase does not include it. Instead, the focus is almost entirely on the nigiri style. In all there may be anywhere from 13 to 14 nigiri servings at Q. Usually delivered in very quick succession and Emeril style, with a might-as-well-be bam when it’s placed before you, it only takes a short time for things to get monotonous. Fish quality and variety saved the day. Several different types of bream, a common and popular Asian fish, a variety of tuna, Japanese mackerel, and two types of eel made up a recent assortment. Most were delicious and all were uniquely interesting.
Acting as food preparer, busboy and wait person, the chef at Q was a little like a docent who’s given the tour one too many times. And the way he scooped rice from the bamboo container, pressed it into a not always consistent ball and top it with fish carried a distinct air of John Belushi. He then would deliver a fast, not always intelligible statement about what the fish and accoutrement were before he placed the finished product, voila, before you. A written list would have been so much more helpful. Unfortunately, they’re rarely provided in most establishment offering omakase. Usually the reasoning is that because restaurants never know what the they’re going to receive from each day’s delivery, they don’t have time to prepare a menu.
For anyone who enjoys delicious interesting food, it’s very easy to fall under the spell of the kinds of culinary adventures an omakase can provide. For quality and assortment, Q Sushi Bar & Omakase is hard to surpass. But if you’re sensitive to how we eat affects the planet, omakase, at least in its classic form, will likely not make it to your to-do list.
Q Sushi Bar and Omakase
4845 N. Damen Ave.
Chicago, IL 60625
www.qsushichicago.com
