Omakase is like the ramen craze from a decade ago. Every season I hear about another Japanese restaurant offering a chef’s menu – some at $100 or less, while others in the hundreds of dollars. It’s difficult to decipher which are good, the options seem endless.

I’ve heard of Sushi Yugen and their $98 main counter omakase and determined it’s a place that maybe I’d visit. It wasn’t until a friend who indulges in a lot of fine dining mentioned the restaurant, giving their chef’s table menu ($275/person) a high recommendation that I finally booked a reservation. And I was not disappointed.

The higher price point gets you into a more intimate room where Master Chef Kyohei Igarashi personally prepares the meal. Igarashi spent 15 years in Japan, learning the craft at high-end sushi and kaiseki places, before finally settling into a Michelin starred restaurant where he spent another seven years.

Indeed, the omakase menu showcases his background, starting off with six kaiseki dishes before the nine pieces of nigiri are presented. He comes out shyly, his accomplishments touted by a translator, and immediately launches into squaring off fish filets so the slices end up all evenly presented amongst the diners.

Our winter menu begins with a hot bowl of broth. Japanese turnip is cooked and then likely pulverized so it melts throughout the soup, causing it to thicken a bit. I would have thought the monk fish liver and leeks would be strong, but somehow the addition of yuzu mellows the ingredients and ties everything together.

Sushi Yugen serves a menu worthy of a Scandinavian spa as it goes from hot to a cold plunge. A bowl of fluke arrives in a beautiful ice dome doused in a special soy-based sauce and covered with black truffle shavings. The delicate white fish allows the truffle’s flavours to be prominently featured. The combination of meaty fish and the fungi’s earthiness is an interesting flavour profile that somehow works.

A bowl of soumen arrives adorn with edible flowers and thinly julienned Japanese ginger, sitting in a three-fish broth (bonito, tuna, sardine). Normally, the bowl of noodles has a deep savoury taste. Sushi Yugen’s still has that element, but the floral and ginger finish gives the silky noodles a bright burst… almost like that pop of basil on a gooey cheesy pizza.

Steaming sauce is brought to the table and quickly ladled into individual bowls to cook the seabream table side and create Yugen’s version of shabu shabu. While the rich soy-based broth was too tad salty to finish, it helped flavour the fish, which was just cooked through remaining flaky and tender. Make sure to use some of the yuzu chili paste, it’s such a great condiment that I want to use on everything.

Being Chinese, I’ve had my fair share of abalone, but having it fresh was a completely different experience. Chef Igarashi trims off the gills and liver, using them to create a thick rich sauce. Meanwhile, the meaty part of the sea creature was simply sliced and more tender and sweeter than my past experiences. We’re advised to leave some of the sauce in the bowl, at which point, Igarashi places some rice so we can mix it into the rich sauce and finish it off.

The uni rice bowl was like an over-the-top seafood risotto, the uni sushi rice adorned with chopped fatty tuna, ringed with briny fish roe, and then topped with caviar. Looking at it, you’d think it would be so rich and decadent, but surprisingly the vinegar in the rice cuts through it to make it lighter than you’d expect, while still having a powerful taste of the sea (in a good way) and a lovely creaminess.

After the last flavourful kaiseki dish, the nigiri begins, but not before a big pile of chopped ginger helps cleanse the palette. Cut into smaller pieces, I enjoyed the little bits that helped provide a refresher without being too much.

The nigiri starts with a piece of filefish (kawahagi) adorned with its liver. It’s meaty and creamy, but also lightened with the heavily vinegared rice that’s made with a combination of three vinegars.

I had the cleanest tasting scallop at Sushi Yugen, it’s sweet without an ounce of gumminess. When pressed, Chef Kyohei Igarashi did explain the three-step process he uses to ensure it’s so silky and fresh. I promised I wouldn’t give away his trade secrets, so you’ll have to ask him yourself.

The saba was flavourful with a pop of freshness, despite not being heavily loaded with green onion and ginger. Left neutral it was still delicious.

A trio of tuna arrives afterwards with the lean akami being marinated so it was flavourful, especially brushed with an extra bit of sauce.

Indeed, the fattier tunas were decadent. I was surprised by how soft and buttery the chutoro was already, to a level that made the otoro seem not as different.

A tray of hot charcoal arrives for the next piece. They are used to sear the top of the nodoguro saikyozuke, a black throat seaperch to crisp up the skin and emit an intoxicating aroma that reminds me of Japanese barbeque. The fish almost has a unagi (eel) consistency, delicate and soft, and very flavourful as it was already marinated in miso, but with a fresher finish.

The anago or conger eel was tasty, but it’s hard to follow the delicious seaperch. Nonetheless, the eel was hot and meaty and has that slight sweetness that’s synonymous with eel without being too sugary.

Yugen’s tamago was cake-like in consistency with an almost savoury finish. I only wish the piece was larger and served warm.

Our meal ends with another bowl of piping hot soup, this time the traditional miso consisting of a rich broth with finely chopped seaweed.

The dessert leans towards kaiseki preparations again. Instead of the typical musk melon, ice cream, or mochi, Yugen presents a beautifully prepared fruit jelly topped with white bean paste dusted with matcha powder and adorned with a salted Sakura flower. What a beautiful finish.

Summing up Igarashi’s menu, I’m impressed by how well he balances rich ingredients to create a dish that still has a freshness to it… I left satisfied but not feeling heavy. Armed with our remaining champagne, we’re invited to their “patio” in the lobby, where we could finish the drinks without being rushed to leave.

Daphne occupies a great location and has a beautiful dining room, but their hosting operations needs improvement. They seem to seat people upon arrival, rather than pre-planning arrangements based on reservations, which is how we were sat beside the drafty door despite booking a month in advance.

The menu isn’t overly exciting but offers a safe selection so there will be options for all. A light spread of nibbles started our meal:

• Olives ($8) – a variety of olives in a light citrus za’atar oil.
• Bread and butter ($8) – a sizeable basket containing different breads like focaccia, sesame baguette, and whole wheat. They were all soft and fresh and went with nicely with the whipped cultured butter. It would have been even better if the bread was warmed.
• Little gem salad ($20) – your typical salad that resembled a lightly dressed Ceasar. If it had more of the garlic parmesan dressing it would stand out better but did go with the other bites and kept things light.

If you want to visit Flavour Town, hop on the black truffle pizza ($36) train. While the price may take you aback, the pie does contain slices of the fungi, you’ll find them scattered amongst the thinly sliced potatoes. The soft puffy crust was a tad soggy in the centre, but it wasn’t surprising given the egg that oozes over the pie adding a lovely creaminess. The dish was delicious with the addition of taleggio cheese, potato crema, and herbs.

The duck mafalda ($35) was equally flavourful with the crimped pasta pulling in so much of the shredded duck and spicy sauce into its crevices. Although the dish isn’t the prettiest, I loved the powerful punch of the sauce, which has a pesto-feel but still the freshness of a red sauce.  

For those abstaining from red meat, the tuna ribeye ($65) offers a 16oz hunk of protein that’s great for sharing. We’re warned the chimichurri is spicy, so we asked for the condiment on the side. In reality, there’s not a lick of heat but was heavy on the citrus and was really needed to season the tuna, which otherwise is merely sitting in a muted truffle ponzu.

The fish paired well with the sunchokes ($16), the root vegetables well roasted and tossed with sunflower tahini, brown butter, and caramelized honey that created a tasty crust. These would even work well with the little gem salad.

I can see why the cauliflower ($32) is considered a main. An entire head of the vegetable arrives covered with sauces so there’s a heartiness even without protein. Elements like the basil herb sauce gave it a freshness while the roasted grapes some sweetness. Still, it’s a lot for one person so is best shared with a large group.

I would not save room for dessert. If I liked chocolate, the Daphne bar ($16) was tasty, like a tuxedo cake in bar form with its dark chocolate mousse and caramel wrapped in a soft chocolate ganache. Alas, chocolate and I have a difficult relationship.  

We had high hopes for the coconut cream pie ($17), but it resembled a white chocolate mousse rather than pie as the dessert lacked the salty crust element. The passionfruit gel was also too tropical and took away from richness I expected from a cream pie. If anything, it’s pretty to look at.

Strawberry shortcake ($18) is usually one of my favourite desserts, but Daphne’s was terrible… give me a supermarket version any day. The makrut lime cream was overpowering giving the cake a lemongrass flavour and the black sesame adding an earthy nuttiness that didn’t compliment the strawberries.

MSSM isn’t your traditional omakase restaurant. As you ascend the steps from Yorkville, the energy level of the restaurant matches the neighbourhood. At least three people yell out shari as you enter, which means ‘sushi rice’ in Japanese. There’s music pumping and in lieu of the typical wooden sushi bar the dining room contains white graffitied walls and pink neon lights. We aren’t in Tokyo anymore Toto.

Also, unlike typical omakase spots, the sushi bar is HUGE. It can easily accommodate twenty people with five chef stations laid out so that each are preparing food for about four customers. Despite the sheer number of patrons, there’s something intimate about being nestled in a group around one chef, in an instant he put me at ease with questions and jokes… conversations are encouraged here.

What also makes them different is the price point - $98 per person instead of the $200+ that you’ll usually pay. Chef Masaki Saito realized not everyone could afford (or get a reservation) to his two Michelin star restaurant, hence opened MSSM as a means of allowing more people to get to experience the art of omakase.

Traditions be damned, MSSM starts off their menu with a hand roll. Filled with finely chopped tuna and pickled radish wrapped with shiso leaf and freshly toasted nori, it’s an interesting and hearty way to start off.  

The following bonito with apple onion sauce was too pungent for my liking with so many leeks, ginger, and chives. Perhaps if it’s accompanied with something creamy, like a sesame sauce, it would help balance out the dish.

MSSM also uses a sense of showmanship, presenting trays of the seafood that would form the ten pieces we were about to sample before slicing and preparing. Once ready, a bucket of rice is whisked out and periodically changed to ensure it’s at the optimal temperature. Indeed, the rice is nice and warm but could use more vinegar.

To start, the stripe bass (shima Suzuki), a clean and light tasting fish that is often used to warm up the palette. It’s immediately followed by salmon (zuke sake) that’s been marinated for a couple of hours in a “mother sauce” that gets cooked, added to, and reused… not unlike a sourdough starter. What a flavourful piece topped with a finely chopped green onion paste.

MSSM’s scallop (hotate) tastes clean especially when finished with drop of lime juice. I love that it’s not overly gummy so that you could chew the seafood and take in the scallop’s sweetness. A sprinkle of sea salt may bring out the flavours even more.

A hand torch crisps up the skin of the sea bream (madai) while also bringing out the fish’s oils and flavours. With a light dusting of salt, a bit of chili radish paste, and a drop of lime, it’s a nice bite that gives out heat and a slight smokiness.

In fact, I really appreciated the garnishes used on the nigiri. The bit of chopped yuzu peel on the blue fin tuna (akami) gave the fish a freshness that awoken the otherwise meaty fish. Our chef explains that they chop the garnishes by hand as they found using a food processor adds a bitterness to the items. Yes, that is one of the many tasks that keeps them busy before dinner service.

What really intrigued me was the chawanmushi sushi. I’m a big fan of the steamed egg and couldn’t understand how they were going to morph it into sushi. What first arrives is the typical dish – steam egg steamed with bonito and kelp stock. It didn’t look like much, and we’re told to just have a taste of it – good but not overly exciting.

The chef than takes it back and adds sushi rice, Dungeness crab sauce, yuzu peel paste, and wasabi before re-presenting the chawanmushi in front of us. Once it’s all well mixed together, it becomes this incredible eggy seafood risotto that is one of my favourite bites of the dinner.

After the high comes a small low, a spot prawn (botan ebi) with lime. While I’m glad it wasn’t too gummy, I still don’t like the texture of the raw shrimp … not one of my favourite bites.

It’s unclear whether torching the bluefin tuna belly (toro) makes it better. Sure, I liked that the fish oils were starting to liquify, but I found the piece a tad chewy – not necessarily from the fish, but perhaps from the spring onion inside. While still a nice piece, it just didn’t the pow of flavour that normally comes from a fatty tuna.

Give me dashimaki instead of tamago any day. At MSSM, the egg omelette is warm and savory with a moistness that keeps the layers light and fluffy. All hail the dashimaki!

The hand torch makes one last appearance with the sea eel (anago). After being liberally heated, some lime and yuzu peel is added to the slightly sweet, delicate, and tender eel. What a wonderful final bite.

So, what makes MSSM’s omakase experience different, other than the price? It certainly relies on volume. The five chefs are preparing the omakase at a decent clip and soon after they are done the miso soup arrives. The broth is made with fish bones instead of a strong dashi so there’s a mellowness to the soup. It’s adorned with Japanese chili powder and spring onions, giving it a spicier finish than traditional versions.

Dessert consisted of house made strawberry daifuku. Certainly not as incredible as the version I had at Kappo Sato, but still a good rendition of chewy mochi encapsulating sweet azuki paste and a juicy strawberry.

As a warning, don’t arrive too early for your reservation. As MSSM relies on volume, the seatings are close together and they may not be ready if you show up more than five minutes early. Luckily, Yorkville is a great place to walk around, so we kept ourselves entertained for ten minutes with ease.

Given some of the chefs and staff have worked together at Tachi, there’s a natural ease in the operations despite our opening week visit. I love the comradery and casualness between the staff, which makes us laugh and feel comfortable speaking to the strangers sharing the table around us. After all, it’s not every day you hear the sous chef joke that the chef is her “work husband” instead of curtly replying “yes, chef”.

Not taking themselves seriously and laughs is what MSSM is about. When I asked what the name stood for, our chef cheekily replies - Masaiki Saito Sexy Man. It’s unclear if this is real or he’s joking, but after seeing their sake pot, I thought there could be some truth to the name. And yes, call me a child, but if you serve me sake in that vessel with two round cups, you must expect a photo like this. Take it easy and just enjoy the shari!

Shunoko reminds me of Shoushin, before it was awarded a Michelin star and their tasting menus now start at $330. The restaurant quietly opened in the spring and was relatively unknown unless you’ve visited their previous location at Yonge and St. Clair. It’s helmed by Chef Jun Kim whose father and uncle both owned sushi restaurants in Korea.

While Shunoko offers an a la carte menu, it’s their omakase that drew my interest. The promise of twelve pieces of sushi, four “tastings”, and a dessert for only $100 seemed too good to be true. I arrived with lowered expectations and was blown away by the experience.

Best yet, there’s also a $30 wine pairing that’s an appealing contrast to the traditional sake pairings. Chef Jun notes that he likes wine, especially natural ones, and prefers its subtle flavours when paired with sushi. He likes to just crack open bottles with friends, while eating sushi, and see what works. Up first, a flute of light dry cava from Barcelona, a classic wine to pair with fish.

The meal started with a cube of cold tofu topped with spot prawn and ikura (salmon fish roe). I’ve never been a fan of the texture of raw shrimp. Shunoko’s was still a bit gummy, although less so than some establishments, but could be even better if it was quickly poached. The combination of briny ikura and soy was also a tad salty, working well with plain tofu but detracts from the shrimp’s sweetness.

Luckily, the following sea bream with ginger dressing was a hit. The sauce reminds me of the concoction used on salads, excepts less vinegary and having a thicker purée consistency. It goes so nicely with the slices of meaty fish, giving it a warm feeling, even though the dish was served cool – you must taste it to understand. The bits of chives rounded it off so nicely.

The first nigiri of the night was fluke wrapped around sisho leaf and topped with a piece of its fin. A lovely fresh start with a bit of interest from the chewy fin piece.

It’s followed by the chicken grunt, which is the strangest tasting fish I’ve ever had. While it looks like it comes from the sea, it has the taste of chicken, especially the chewiness of its skin. There’s a gaminess to the protein that’s mellowed a bit by the chives but could use something stronger like chopped scallions and ginger. While not my favourite bite, it’s nevertheless interesting to try.

Chef Jun simply tops the sea bream with rock salt, which while simplistic changes the taste of the classic fish. It’s savoury and neutral so that you can also enjoy the warm creamy rice, that has a lovely soft consistency but could use a splash more vinegar.

The amber jack was nice and meaty and had a light spicy essence from the pepper leaf topping it. But what made this piece shine was the French cider pairing. The cider must be aged in barrels giving it an olive scent. Yet, when you drink it, there’s a mellow sweetness that finishes off so smoothly, not like the overly fruity and bubbly canned cider you’d find at the LCBO.

One of our favourite pieces of the night was the yellow tail finished with ponzu and chives. It’s perfect for the warm whether, so refreshing and bright.

If Chef Jun didn’t tell me the next piece was striped jack, I’d almost think it’s horse mackerel as there’s such a meatiness to the fish. All while still having a clean neutral finish.

It’s at this point in the meal that the restaurant seemed to be in full swing, the four tables for two and the approximate nine chairs around the sushi bar were almost at capacity. Given Shunoko offers an a la carte and two omakase menus, it’s quite the feat to juggle.

From what we could tell, Chef Jun concentrates on the omakase experience while the other sushi chef focuses on the rest. The sous chef also fills in as the sommelier, explaining what we’re drinking and how many courses it should last.

The biggest flop for me of the evening was the scallop with truffle oil. Oh, truffle oil, such a powerful seasoning that can work with neutral fatty items but overpowers the scallop until it almost tastes bitter. At least it was paired with a gewürztraminer, the wine’s slight sweetness helps to counteract some of the bitterness. It was a lovely version of the German wine, ending with a buttery finish.

Shunoko’s horse mackerel was so refreshingly clean that it’s a testament to Chef Jun’s expertise. He knows how to prepare and neutralize a cut that can sometimes be so overly fishy.

The following Portuguese sardine was a tad gamier, but when paired with onion helped to ensure any fishiness was offset. Surprisingly, the fish was delicate, perhaps it’s because I’m normally familiar with the packed canned variety. This was paired with a French sparkling rosé, a lovely summery wine to finish the tasting.

Oddly, it was the blue fin tuna that had a gaminess, for what is normally a crowd-pleasing piece. I’m wondering if the chef mistakenly called the cherry salmon, which was listed on the board, tuna instead as this really didn’t taste that much like blue fin to us. If it were salmon, it would make more sense, like a concentrated slice of the fish.

I thoroughly enjoyed the bonito that had such a different creamy finish than most establishments. The lightly smoked fish was topped with ponzu and daikon for a bit of freshness.

Another “first taste” of fish for me of the night (aside from the chicken grunt) was the phantom fish. Despite looking like a traditional white fish, it’s rich in taste – almost like a mackerel and bonito morphed into one – so was aptly adorned with shallot to give it a punch. It’s a fascinating fish as it emits a taste that reminded me of the ocean. Let me know if you try this and feel the same.

Finally, something that actually tastes like blue fin tuna, this piece consisting of the belly cut with more chopped tuna on top! Finished with a light floral shisho flower and rock salt, this was another favourite of the evening.

Shunoko’s miso soup must be made with a fish bone broth as there it’s creamy, rich, and has a slight oiliness. Whatever it’s made with, it’s delicious and hearty, even containing some crispy napa cabbage.

Usually, when the soup is served, the meal finishes and turns to dessert. At this point, Chef Jun comes over to ask if we’d still have room for a hand roll. While I was getting full, how do you turn down another taste? He ended up presenting us with a hefty roll filled with sea bream (?), marinated mushrooms, and sisho leaf so there were so many flavours wrapped into one crispy shell.

Imagine our surprise, when the nigiri procession continued with the last piece – a tamago taco. If you’re worried about leaving the restaurant hungry (I’ll admit, my husband and I usually get something from McDonalds after some omakase meals), it won’t happen here. Shunoko’s tamago was three slices wrapped around rice. It was slightly too cold for my taste, but with its sweetness perhaps its meant to be enjoyed like a custard dessert.

Only, we were presented with actual dessert: a rich coconutty taro ice cream. It’s so creamy and delicious that I thought they would have made it in-house, but we’re advised it’s purchased from a third-party. Boy, would I like to get my hands on a take-home pint. There’s a lovely, toasted taste to the ice cream, perhaps it mixes in crispy coconut chips?

If the above sounds like too hefty a meal, Shunoko offers a “Nigiri 10” menu, which consists of ten pieces of sushi (essentially ten of the pieces that is part of their omakase menu), tamago, and miso soup for less ($67 during our dinner). Best yet, this menu doesn’t require pre-ordering with reservations, so if you find yourself walking by Shunoko and have a hankering for good sushi, you can walk-in and enjoy.