LAReview
Included In
If it's not there already, add Morihiro’s omakase to the top of your LA fine dining bucket list. At this high-end Atwater Village sushi spot, servers explain every course in painstaking detail, much of the dinnerware is made by the chef himself, and you theoretically could swallow your slab of soft hamachi without chewing at all. But if you just walk by and peek in the window, the space looks like a somewhat nicer version of your average neighborhood Japanese restaurant. Of course, most casual sushi spots don’t serve a signature tofu that cuts like custard, snow crab shabu shabu, or perfect saba nigiri.
The biggest question you'll have to answer is whether you opt for the $250 omakase served at one of the restaurant's handful of tables, or go all-in on the larger, longer (harder to book) $400 omakase with the chef at the sushi bar.
Both meals are top-tier—complete with sleek, silver-skinned hikarimono, abalone on the half shell, and those warm little towels for your hands—but they also create a bit of a Goldilocks dilemma. Compared to the $250 omakase, there are other excellent sushi spots in LA that offer a more interactive and intimate experience for around the same price, and compared to the $400 option, there are omakase spots that deliver just-as-great sushi for less of a premium. That said, if you're spending this much on raw fish anyway, the extra money probably isn't a huge leap. Either way, bring a wealthy fish enthusiast who likes wearing jeans to formal dinners. You know the type.
photo credit: Jakob Layman
Food Rundown
Omakase
Whether you book the $250 omakase at one of the restaurant's tables or the $400 omakase at the bar, expect a mixture creative dishes and traditional nigiri. There's also a sake pairing available for $150 per person. Aside from the more intimate service from the chef, the $400 omakase includes more courses as well. For both, you’ll begin and end with an elaborate appetizer and dessert. Think dishes like fermented monkfish liver, baby white corn still wrapped in the husk, and housemade chestnut cream puffs. Servers explain each dish in painstaking detail, and most of the dinnerware, from plates and bowls to seemingly unending cups of tea, is made by hand, courtesy of chef-owner Mori Onodera himself, who apparently spends a lot of time at the pottery studio. More traditional courses shine, too. Silky fresh tofu cubes are painted with soy sauce. Japanese abalone is served on the gleaming half-shell. Scallops are paired with sharp tsukemono pickles, and rotating plates of nigiri arrive with jumbo prawns, yellowtail, red surf clams, otoro, and perfect mounds of uni. Beneath every fish slice lies a dab of freshly grated wasabi, which makes every piece come alive. On past visits, the nigiri line-up included sea bream, fatty tuna that melts like butter, and our personal favorite, silver-skinned hikarimono (gizzard shad).
