Guests come to talk about the fish. I understand — the bluefin is dramatic, the uni is luxurious. But ask any sushi chef what keeps them awake and they will say the rice.
Temperature is everything
We serve shari at roughly body temperature, never cold from the fridge. A warm grain against cool fish is the contrast the whole bite depends on. Get it wrong and even perfect tuna feels flat.
The fish is the guest of honour, but the rice is the host.
Our rice is seasoned with a blend of red and rice vinegar, a little salt, almost no sugar. It is mixed by hand with a cutting motion to keep each grain intact, then held in an ohitsu — a cedar tub — that wicks away excess moisture.
Aged, not fresh
Counter to instinct, we let cooked rice rest. A short rest lets the seasoning settle into the grain and the texture firm up. Freshly steamed rice is too loose; rested rice holds its shape under the fish and dissolves the moment it meets your tongue.
None of this is visible to the guest, and that is the point. The best parts of an omakase are the ones you never notice.
