Situated right at the Eivissa Marina, I would have considered Mariner to be a tourist trap if their food wasn’t delicious. The wooden beams and bits of foliage offered a sense of privacy, shielding against the crowds, allowing us to tune them out and focus on our meal.

Amongst the twirling fans, which added more ambiance than breeze, we sipped an amuse bouche of olive oil laced gazpacho that was silky and savoury. While I’m not generally a fan of cold soups, amongst the heat and humidity of an Ibiza summer this was a great start.

Some cool appetizers are also ideal. The plate of Iberian jamon (29€) was expertly cut with an astounding uniformity of each slice. At Mariner, the leg of ham was wonderfully marbled with a melt-in-your-mouth quality that beckoned me to have one more slice.

We generally found many restaurants overly toast (some would say burn) their bread, but Mariner’s pan con tomate (3€) was airy and soft… like having the tomato spread on an English muffin. I love the freshness of the tomato and the simplicity of the bread that went well with the flavourful cured jamon.

Although the cheese in the burrata salad (16€) almost became lost amongst the plump cherry tomatoes, arugula, and dollops of avocado cream, the overall salad was creamy and delicious. Given this was rather rich, I’m happy we had thought to order side salads (6€), which helped balance out the velvety burrata and avocado combination.

Sharing the glazed milk-fed lamb shoulder (36€) is recommended as this main is huge. The meat was tender, easily breaking apart with just a fork, presenting a light lamb that wasn’t gamey. If anything, it could have been more heavily season as I found the glaze, while thick and sticky, was too lacklustre and a more savoury red wine au jus would work better, especially to help cut through the richness of the lamb.

The menu describes the protein as being served with asparagus and baby potatoes – essentially, a full and complete meal. While there were plenty of soft roasted baby potatoes, the asparagus consisted of a small spear cut in two, hardly enough to call out on the menu, let alone counteract the meatiness of the dish. In retrospect, a side salad would work perfectly as I really was yearning for something acidic and refreshing to balance the otherwise tasty lamb.

Mariner reminds me not to be too judgmental about a restaurant’s prime location – just because an establishment is in a sought-after area doesn’t mean it’s a tourist trap. There seems to be plenty of Spaniards dining at Mariner (so the clientele wasn’t touristy) and we found the dishes to be delicioso.

Some restaurants just exude an unexplainable charm, and this is Lake Inez. Maybe it’s their homey dining room that elicits a sense of comfort, the helpful but not over-the-top staff that makes you feel you’re amid seasoned veterans, or the quirky hand drawn menus and wine descriptions that makes you chuckle. Whatever if its, this charm makes you really want to like Lake Inez.  

Their menu features seasonal ingredients along with whatever they pickled/fermented previously that’s now ready-to-eat. Dishes are presented with eccentric names that has a Trader Joe-like feel, such as the Hand Upstream Rolls ($22), which presents the upstream swimming fish, salmon, cured into gravlax form and covers it with cream fraiche and plum sauce. I enjoyed the meaty chunks of fish but wish the chefs weren’t so heavy handed with the sauce, it masked the salmon’s flavours and made it difficult to wrap in the nori.

While pairing tomatoes with bonito seems strange, the Tomato Tonnato ($21) was one of our favorite dishes of the night. Somehow, the fish flakes’ umami essence and the juicy heirlooms just work, bringing out the freshness of the fruit but giving it a bit of je ne sais quoi as well.

In fact, Lake Inez’s most simple sounding dishes were the tastiest. The Humble Potato ($19) featured big chunks of well-fried, roughed up potatoes that have a lovely crispy coating and tosses it in a flavourful Gouda queso. While the dish may sound heavy, the addition of herbs and anise hyssop (an edible flower) added a freshness to the cheesy potatoes.

Along the same vein, the Corn Puddin’ & Baby Shrimp ($23) was a lovely dip of hot gooey Fresno sauce studded with sweet corn and a fair amount of just cooked through shrimp. While it was tasty, it would be even better with more seasoning and salt. Still, the bread plate sized tortillas added a sunniness to the dish that I couldn’t help but smile when seeing it.

The Wham! Bam! Thank You, Ham! ($22) started with promise with slices of lightly cured country ham paired with sweet Korean melon and pears. But then the pickled watermelon rind and pickled peanuts were so pungent that after getting a bite of these that’s all I could taste.

It seems Lake Inez really likes sour flavours as the Cucumber?! I Hardly Know Her! ($19) was also too tart for my taste. The diced crunchy cucumber was tossed with a cashew cream that seems to contain a fair amount of preserved lemon. Aside from the refreshing cucumber and lemon, the other flavours were rather muted as I couldn’t really taste the curry leaves or much salt. This was a divided dish for the table.

The Miami Memory ($28) contained a piece of well-seasoned blackened snapper that had a nice spice but was over cooked. While it was considered a larger “main” dish, there was a scant portion of snapper, and the shredded greens and couscous side didn’t increase it’s substantialness by much.

Mama’s Meatballs ($28 for two; $10 for an additional meatball and bread) was more generous and the better of the two mains if you’re hungry. Mama makes moist and not overly dense meatballs and the peach ragu and mostarda lightens the otherwise hearty dish. Serving these with a large hunk of buttered toast was smart to help mop up the sauce.

While Lake Inez has great vibes, their dishes were hit and miss. Ideally, you should visit with a group of at least four people so you can order the entire menu to find the dishes that stand out. Regardless, the restaurant seems to get such great reviews, perhaps not necessarily for the food, but for their quirky warm charm. Just look at these menus as see if you don’t crack a smile. 

Fismuler operates with an efficiency that seems apt for it’s German sounding name. Not long after sitting down, a starter of bread and whipped paté was brought over while we settled in. Just be mindful the nibble costs 2.75€ a person, a fact detailed at the bottom of the menu we had yet to review. Still, we enjoyed the soft crusty bread, silky and light paté, and thin lightly pickled cucumbers that helped tide us over.

The small plates were the more impressive dishes of the evening. Consequently, the crusty bread goes nicely with everything so try not to devour it right away. The sweet tomato salad (13.50€) was simple but deliciously good - ripe sliced tomatoes topped with a fragrant olive oil and flakes of salt.

It complements the burrata (17€), which has an amazing spicy green mole giving the cheese a burst of flavour. In fact, the whole dish was different: the burrata accompanied with roasted broccolini, an unusual green that works. I could have easily had an order to myself.

When our server suggested the chicken wings (18.50€) I had my doubts, but the nuggets of fried deboned chicken tossed in a creamy truffle sauce were addictive. The sauce, of course, became an excuse to have even more bread.

Of the small plates, only the fresh calamari (20.50€) was a bust. The seafood was over cooked, way over salted, and hidden amongst so much unnecessary foam. Give me more of the chicken wings any day.

Still, the calamari was better than the egregiously overdone and tough duck (25.50€), one of the worst renditions of the dish I’ve ever had. Perhaps, it could have been salvaged if the duck was cut thinner… even then, I feel they would still be chewy. The side dishes weren’t any better: the charred corn turned out to be the canned variety and the spring onions left whole and unseasoned. The best part of the dish was the puréed sweet potatoes.

I wish I had heeded the server’s recommendation to order the Viennese schnitzel (29€). Pounded to a cardboard thinness and the size of a pizza, the schnitzel gets a thin coating of raw egg yolk tableside before being jazzed up with shaved truffles and chives. It was perhaps a touch salty, but at least it was crispy and not overdone.

When an Italian tells you the best place to buy lasagna is from Porzia’s, you listen. With my luck, they also happened to be opening a new restaurant (previously, they operated a takeout joint), a no reservation establishment that can accommodate about 24 people a seating.

Porzia’s menu changes frequently with a focus on seasonal ingredients, which allowed me to try one of the sweetest cantaloupes I’ve ever experienced. If you’ve ever had musk melon, the two slices in the prosciutto and melon ($18) rivaled the prized melon in sweetness and went wonderfully with the freshly shaved Parma prosciutto, which was especially delicious when I sampled a slice covered in olive oil.  

One dish that’s constant on the menu is their lasagna, offered in a “classico” or “bolognese” format. Given I like my pasta saucier, we ordered the lasagne bolognese ($26) a hefty brick of pasta with so many layers of pasta and cheese that sat in a pool of meat sauce and was covered with finely shaved cheese.

The fresh pasta was silky and soft except for the top layer that’s broiled adding a crispiness to the otherwise soft dish. If you like pasta, you’ll swoon over this dish. And while it was delicious, it was also heavy and could use more sauce between the layers.

What impressed me was the tagliatelle with red shrimp al limone ($29), a lighter pasta that’s nonetheless a flavour bomb. I had to ask for a spoon to properly enjoy the sauce: a combination of chili peppers, rich olive oil, and slivers of garlic that ends with a lemon note that’s not overly acidic. After having bites of lasagna, I found the dish so refreshing and the tagliatelle chewy but still silky. Porzia’s you need to make this a staple.

As a secondi we shared the acqua pazza sea bass ($38), which consisted of two fair-sized pieces of perfectly poached fish cooked just to the point of flaking. The broth had a rustic feel to it with chunks of stewed onion, tomato, and artichokes amongst a host of herbs and white wine. If you like fish stews or bouillabaisse, this is the dish for you.

I’m so glad my friend let me in on the secret of Porzia’s and that they opened a restaurant. I have no doubt that as others discover the place, it will become bustling as their food is simply sublime. 

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!