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!

Tucked in the Japanese Cultural Centre, walking into Kaiseki Yu-Zen Hashimoto transports you to another country. Given their limited seating, their doors may be locked, so give the posted number a call and in no time, someone will greet you at the entrance and lead you through the orange torii gates into the dining room.

There’s so much to take in that the first ten minutes is like sensory overload. Take a deep breath and get ready for the meal; Hashimoto only serves three tables an evening, there’s plenty of time to explore after dinner. So, settle into your private dining room and decompress for the meal to come.   

Hashimoto describes kaiseki as “much of an art form as a style of food preparation” and this is certainly accurate. Each dish was beautiful and like a gift waiting to be unwrapped; a sense of excitement settled over me as I lifted the dome from many of the courses.

The eight-course meal ($350 per person) began with an onjyaku-zen (amuse bouche) consisting of three hearty soups designed to warm-up the stomach. Hashimoto’s saikyo miso soup wasn’t overly salty but rather rich in umami made with white miso, topped with a braised carrot, and a pea-sized amount of mustard to add an expected spice against the broth. Meanwhile, the nutty flavour that burst through the cube of goma (sesame) tofu was incredible, almost bordering bitter if it weren’t balanced out by the thick savoury soup. If anything, I could have done without wasabi on the tofu as the sesame taste was already so pungent.

Of all three bowls, my favourite was also the simplest and what Hashimoto calls “seasoned rice”. It’s like a thick congee studded with cubes of sweet soft squash and topped with slivers of salty dried kelp (?). The bowl was lovely and comforting and had us wanting another taste of it to end the meal.

Paper thin slices of tennen madai (line caught sea bream) was featured in the sashimi course, so delicate that it’s like eating flower petals made of fish. Around the plate were three agar jellies flavoured with ginger, carrot, and seaweed, as well as a washer-sized daikon filled with thinly julienned pickled vegetables. It’s a much lighter dish following the onjyaku-zen and really showcases the knife skills of Chef Masaki Hashimoto.

Diners are asked to refrain from wearing strong scents to ensure they’re able to enjoy the sensory experience of the food. The yuzu aroma that escapes from the owan-mono was so refreshing, although at first whiff, it leaves me wondering if a citrusy soup is something I’d enjoy.

Hashimoto didn’t disappoint, balancing the yuzu in a savoury consommé and pairing it with a host of rich flavours: a silky chawanmushi (egg custard), a thick chewy rice cake, and a soft braised daikon. The slice of amadai (tile fish) was cooked perfectly and I loved that the fish’s scales were deep fried to form a crunchy garnish on top.

The yaki-mono (grilled course) featured a host of ingredients that were in-season during the autumn in Japan. Generally, I only have persimmons raw, yet somehow the fruit tastes so good baked, releasing more of its sweet flavours with chewy pieces of mochi included to soak up some of its juices. The fruit was so inventive that the grilled shima-aji (stripe jack) almost seemed secondary; I found the fish a tad overcooked and in need of a stronger glaze to make it stand out.

To finish the yaki-mono a host of seasonal produce were used as palette cleansers including crisp lotus root, a gooseberry topped with egg yolk (surprisingly, it works), mountain yam, and a lovely mountain peach that’s almost tastes like a cross between a plum and strawberry.

The Spice Girl’s song, When Two Becomes One, is what comes to mind when I think of the taki-awase course. The dish begins with ingredients being stewed separately – in this case, cubes of octopus, vegetables, squash, and daikon – and are then steam together to blend the flavours and aromas without causing the ingredients to become overcooked. After simmering for four hours, the octopus was so tender that if our server didn’t tell us what the protein was, I would have thought we were eating brisket.

Following the softer steamed dish was the shii-zakana (signature course), which provided a textural contrast with different crispy elements:

• Medallions of the most incredible chicken teriyaki encapsulating a soft walnut and wrapped in a thin crispy skin. I could munch on rounds of these in lieu of chicken wings.
• A ball of flavourful mashed Japanese potatoes filled with wagyu beef cubes and rolled into crispy rice grains creating something that rivals arancini with its crunchy and soft elements. Of course, in this case, instead of the traditional ground beef and peas, it’s filled with rich wagyu. Oh boy.
• Even the garnish of popped wheat was edible; a bit fibrous when I took a bite of the entire stalk, but once we started picking out the individual grains from the husk, became almost like a nutty popcorn.

Guilt washed over me as I took my first bite of Chef Hashimoto’s hand carved radish crane… it must have taken so much time to carve its delicate neck and legs! It was the last thing consumed so that I could appreciate its beauty before finally dipping it into the carrot sauce and devouring the refreshing décor.

The last savoury course brought a bowl of sticky rice topped with slices of A5 Hyogo wagyu, the prized beef from the Kobe region. While it was delicious, I do wish the beef was left thicker and cut into cubes so that more of the fatty rich flavours would be locked in and flow onto the tongue.

A bowl of noodles and soup is always a delight. In this case, a cha (tea) soba served in a fragrant dashi broth that was good to the last drop. What a lovely way to end and cleanse the palette before dessert.

Like many Japanese desserts, the mizu-mono was a fruit plate prominently featuring the expensive Shizuoka musk melon. A sizeable melon is upwards of $200 a fruit and commands the premium as supposedly they are raised to only have one melon per plant to ensure all the flavours are concentrated into one fruit and there being less of a chance of the melon having blemishes.

Indeed, every time I’ve had a slice it’s the sweetest melon ever and tastes like a cross between cantaloupe and honeydew. What also makes it different is the texture: when you have a normal melon it tends to be very soft and sweet in the centre, then gets hard and flavourless as you approach the find. The musk melon tends to have a more uniform sweetness and tenderness throughout.

It’s strange when I’m excited to try fruit, at Hashimoto they also provided a white strawberry encapsulated in a light jelly and topped with condensed milk. Truthfully, it just tasted like a lighter Ontario strawberry that you can purchase at a farmer’s market when it’s in season… I don’t think I would pay the ~$40 for a pint. It was my first experience having a shine muscat, which was like a sweeter and juicier globe grape without seeds. Set in gelatin and adorned with a gold leaf it’s crazy to think that a bunch of these grapes can be upwards of $100.

Aside from the fruit, we were treated to a leaf of uber-rich matcha pudding and a dollop of sweet azuki beans topped with a crispy candy. My recommendation is that Chef Hashimoto switches out the rock sugar with pop rocks to really give the diners a surprise.

With an extensive sake menu, if you’re not familiar with the Japanese spirit, they have a “sommelier” to help you choose one based on your preferences for other alcohol. Letting her know that we like a dry crisp wine, she recommended the Okunomatsu Junmai Ginjo Genshu Arabashiri that was offered in a half bottle on weekends ($55), which does have a less sweet finish.

For those who are abstaining from alcohol, they also offer pots of fragrant tea ($9 a person) or water served from a kimono clad Swell bottle ($7 a person).

Incredible surroundings and beautiful unique dishes aside, what makes dining at Kaiseki Yu-Zen Hashimoto an unforgettable experience is their service. With only three tables nightly, we were in good hands – just like in Japan, the hospitality rises to another level.

It evens ends warmly with our server offering to take a picture of us, which they email to us later that evening along with pictures of the dishes sampled. It’s a simple and sweet gesture that sets the restaurant apart, from the moment you enter and after you return home, dining at Kaiseki Yu-Zen Hashimoto is a true sensory experience.