Masa and Bar Masa

[nick.kokonas]

Count me among those who found Masa to be an ethereal experience.

Much has been written about the restaurant, the price, the fish, the wood on the sushi bar, etc. So I will only give my impressions:

-- The place feels very small. In fact, it is downright intimate, though the sushi bar is expansive given the number of seats.

-- I would never sit at a table there. Only the bar.

-- You can actually feel the fine grit of saw dust on the sushi bar. I assumed that they must sand it every night. I asked. They do.

-- It is very, very quiet. Two guests on the other end had a bit of laughter going on, but it felt out of place. The only negative at all was that it felt like a stern experience. While enraptured with the food, I felt like I had to speak in hushed tones. Even the waitress who poured the sake did...

-- Masa smiled a lot. He was having fun. But he was quiet, too.

-- The non-sushi courses were universally excellent, especially the soup.

-- The nigiri was the best I have ever had -- and we had a lot. I didn't count, but 15-18 pieces for sure, maybe more.

-- The Toro Maki Roll was the size of a quarter pounder with cheese. OK not quite, but it was huge.

-- I was expecting traditional japanese desserts of some sort. There were none.

-- The meal ended abruptly -- "this is your last course". OK. Gotcha.

All in all I would not hesitate in the least to go back -- in fact, I will go back as soon as possible. Is there equivalent sushi in NYC? Probably... but not in that setting. It is indeed a jarring experience to re-enter the world of Time Warner. Next time I will linger a bit longer over some tea and stroke the dust of the bar for a bit longer. Maybe they will cut another fish or two...

[fiftydollars]

It's a pretty awesome experience. I am a bit traumatized, actually. I went about a month ago and I haven't really told anyone about it. This is mostly on account of not wanting to reveal that I'm the type of person that drops $700 eating by himself. But it is also because it is difficult for me to describe what happened.

But the soup with the baby sardines was astounding. The grilled toro nigiri was also unbelievable. Oh, and then there were the baby scallops, the toro tartare, the sake... not to mention the impeccable service, the beautiful bar, and the experience of watching upclose as Mr. Takayama dissected a perfect segment of tuna the size of Shaquille O’Neal’s upper thigh.

[raji]

-- Masa smiled a lot.  He was having fun.  But he was quiet, too.

No doubting the man's abilities and the ingredients, but I'd be smiling a lot too I charge that much....

[nick.kokonas]

-- Masa smiled a lot.  He was having fun.  But he was quiet, too.

No doubting the man's abilities and the ingredients, but I'd be smiling a lot too I charge that much....

←

I think in general there is a great misunderstanding among the dining public about the margins in the restaurant industry.

Generally speaking, a well run restaurant -- even one that charges several hundred dollars per customer -- brings about 10 % to the bottom line. Could it be 15% -- sure. It could also be 8%. I would be surprised if Masa does substantially better than that -- with the exception that the lease at AOL - TW could be a different sort of deal.

Food costs usually run about 35% in a fine dining restaurant -- so that would put Masa at about $122 per person. Did I eat that much food. Probably. I certainly had enough Toro to choke a horse. Plenty of quality caviar too. Fish that flew first class from somewhere... fish of types I have never even heard of.

Floral... that is a funny one. No one expects the floral arrangements to cost what they do -- but they are thousands per month. Plus maintainance.

Staff. Usually another 35-40% of revenue.... Masa may have this one beat a bit since he has a relatively small salaried staff of chefs. I counted 6. Dish washers and such were out of site, but there can't be too many.

Rent. I am sure the AOL TW deal is unique given the ambitions of their "food court"... but what would a lease there usually cost... $100 per square foot triple net? I don't know NYC pricing, but Michigan Ave. in Chicago approaches that, so that is not an unreasonable guess.

I could go on, but my point is basically this: if you want the best of anything, it usually costs that much for a reason. Incremental improvements cost more than anyone would guess. Add another degree or two on top of that and it is not crazy to see how such an experience can cost $350.

Is it worth it is a completely subjective question that is up to the individual diner to decide -- there are a million different answers to that question, as it is a personal one.

[raji]

I think you're putting words in my mouth.... but still, 15% of $700 is a lot more than 15% of $70!

That's also putting a lot of faith in restaurants to not charge you for their name (or celebrity chef's name), reputation, or otherwise, don't you think?

[oakapple]

I think you're putting words in my mouth.... but still, 15% of $700 is a lot more than 15% of $70!

←

Masa has only about 20-24 seats, which is far less than a restaurant with a $70 check size. If Masa has just a few empty seats on a given night (which I'm sure they often do), it's very significant to their bottom line.

On top of that, they're open only six nights a week for dinner, and only four days a week for lunch, and most of the seats don't turn over, so their fixed costs are spread across a much smaller number of covers.

Edited May 31, 2006 by oakapple (log)

[herbacidal]

I think you're putting words in my mouth.... but still, 15% of $700 is a lot more than 15% of $70!

It seems to me you're looking at the numbers from different angles.

No one is saying that 15% of $700 is not a lot more than 15% of $70.

ANY RESTAURANT PATRON WOULD AGREE.

But Nick is taking apart the issue from the viewpoint of the restaurant,

so that people better understand what that money is paying for.

That's also putting a lot of faith in restaurants to not charge you for their name (or celebrity chef's name), reputation, or otherwise, don't you think?

←

Yes and no.

Do you mean that dining there implies putting a lot of faith in restaurants not to charge you for their name, etc.?

[robyn]

Count me among those who found Masa to be an ethereal experience.

Much has been written about the restaurant, the price, the fish, the wood on the sushi bar, etc.  So I will only give my impressions:

-- The place feels very small.  In fact, it is downright intimate, though the sushi bar is expansive given the number of seats. 

-- I would never sit at a table there.  Only the bar.

-- You can actually feel the fine grit of saw dust on the sushi bar.  I assumed that they must sand it every night.  I asked.  They do.

-- It is very, very quiet.  Two guests on the other end had a bit of laughter going on, but it felt out of place.  The only negative at all was that it felt like a stern experience.  While enraptured with the food, I felt like I had to speak in hushed tones.  Even the waitress who poured the sake did...

-- Masa smiled a lot.  He was having fun.  But he was quiet, too.

-- The non-sushi courses were universally excellent, especially the soup.

-- The nigiri was the best I have ever had -- and we had a lot.  I didn't count, but 15-18 pieces for sure, maybe more. 

-- The Toro Maki Roll was the size of a quarter pounder with cheese.  OK not quite, but it was huge.

-- I was expecting traditional japanese desserts of some sort.  There were none.

-- The meal ended abruptly -- "this is your last course".  OK.  Gotcha.

All in all I would not hesitate in the least to go back -- in fact, I will go back as soon as possible.  Is there equivalent sushi in NYC?  Probably... but not in that setting. It is indeed a jarring experience to re-enter the world of Time Warner.  Next time I will linger a bit longer over some tea and stroke the dust of the bar for a bit longer.  Maybe they will cut another fish or two...

←

A lot of the things you describe are quite typical at higher end sushi restaurants in Japan (at least the ones we ate at). Sitting at the bar (the places we went to only had bars with very few seats - < 15). The quiet intensity of the chefs - and the patrons. The lack of desserts. The abrupt ending of the meal. This wasn't my favorite kind of eating in Japan - but it is very good - and very interesting. A food art as opposed to a social experience.

I suggest that if someone is seriously interested in this kind of food - and has some time - that they take a trip to Japan. The food isn't cheap - but it is cheaper than in the US (I assume that a place like Masa is importing its fish from Japan - and - if it's like other places we've been to in the US/Canada that are importing fish from Japan - a large % of the cost of the product is probably transportation).

In addition - Masa is probably paying big bucks for its location - and other things. The high end sushi restaurants we went to in Japan weren't paying top end rent (based on their size - they all had excellent locations) - and I don't think any paid anything for flowers . What you were buying was fish - and the skills of the chef.

I assume that the quality of what we ate in Japan was the same or better than what's available in the US (even though you can get air transport of food from just about anywhere to the US in a very short period of time - you can eat fish that's bought in the market at 5 am at noon in Japan - and I don't think you can do that in the US). Also - we ate various things (fish and other seafood) that I've simply never seen anywhere in the US and probably would never see here (most likely because it doesn't travel well).

One thing that I'm curious about. Do patrons at Masa use soy sauce - or wasabi? It is simply not done at high end sushi places in Japan. You eat the fish the way the chef serves it. Robyn

[nick.kokonas]

15% of $700 is more, but there are far fewer patrons. The economics of a small, degustation restaurant work out more or less the same, is my point.

I have been to Japan, spent about 7 weeks travelling the country with my wife who speaks fluent Japanese and has lived there for about 1 year in total, part of that with a family in Kyoto during college. The experience at Masa is wholly authentic. I suppose some of my surprise is that they made no accomodations for the American palate -- desserts etc. Which, of course, is precisely the point!

Soy sauce was offered at one point... in a dish so shallow it held only enough to get a hint of it on any nigiri. We were told when it was appropriate to further season the sushi.

None of my comments were meant as negatives... as a dining experience, this was top 5 lifetime.

[ajgnet]

Had dinner at Masa last night and sat at the sushi bar. I’ve spent a significant amount of time in Japan and, excluding the price, I think this is probably the best sushi experience I’ve had outside of Tokyo. I’ll try my best too recap the ambiance, then the service, and then the food.

After opening the 30,000 year-old wooden door the first thing I noticed was the lack of windows. While for most restaurants this is negative, mainly because it can feel claustrophobic, in Masa’s case it added to the ethereal feeling of being transported to a Tokyo sushi-ya. When we arrived around 8:30 the restaurant was full; yet silent. In fact, my friend and I felt the need to whisper for the first 45 minutes until the volume gradually increased (likely due to the alcohol). This quietness was quite refreshing, though a bit awkward at first. The room is very sparse in typical Japanese minimalist fashion; but, it was very warm – this was due to the artful lighting and warm woods. As said before, the sushi bar is a solid piece of hinoki wood, sanded nightly to maintain it’s impeccable cleanliness and smoothness. In total, I counted 10 seats at the sushi bar, 4 tables of 2, and 2 tables of 4. There is only one seating for the night. There was a lot of eye-gazing going around in the restaurant, as if everyone was curious just who else was crazy enough to spend this kind of money on a meal (these people have not eaten in Ginza where these prices are common).

Within moments of sitting down we were handed hot towels and a sake menu. I ordered a carafe of sake and when it arrived, it came with a large (around 16” long) piece of black hair. It really wasn’t a big deal I just asked for a second cup. After politely showing the waitress, who was very embarrassed, the cup was replaced and I was told this round of sake would be on the house. We weren’t lucky enough to be sitting 2 seats to the left in Masa’s territory -- perhaps this is something that needs to be requested ahead of time. Our sushi chef asked if we had any restrictions – we did not. Our chef was a little cold and curt at first but warmed up toward the end of the meal. Actually, now that I think about it, he said some pretty condescending things. My friend kindly asked for no wasabi in his sushi to which the chef responded “no problem; sometimes wasabi is a little over people’s heads …” At the end of the meal, I asked if they had some of the soba ice cream that Bar Masa next door (it’s delicious and I craved it) … the chef responded, “that’s not the concept at this restaurant.” I don’t think he meant it so harshly as it sounds; it was just funny.

As for the food, I was blown away by the caviar & toro w/ toast. It was a helpful serving of osetra as well. The combination of the butter soft tuna with the slightly salty roe was melt-in-your-mouth delicious. I was disappointed, though, by the uni risotto which seemed to need some more of a kick – even salt would have done it. Also, the fish broth w/ whitefish was disappointing as it was somewhat bland. The nigri sushi stole the show for the night. I’ve simply never had fish of this quality outside of Tokyo. Yasuda comes close, and Kurumazushi comes closer, but nothing at this level. I took note of everything served last night:

1. Chestnuts & Warm Ginko Nuts

2. Caviar & Toro w/ toasted bread

3. Aji (Spanish Mackerel) with sea salt vinagrette

4. Baby eel w/ olive oil

5. Uni Risotto

6. Fish w/ cucumbers and broth

7. Broth

8. Otoro (Fatty Tuna) Nigiri Sushi

9. Otoro (Fatty Tuna) Nigiri Sushi

10. Shima aji (Yellowhack) Nigiri Sushi

11. Hirame hira Nigiri Sushi

12. Tae (Seabream) Nigiri Sushi

13. Kinme (Deep sea snapper) Nigiri Sushi

14. Ika (Squid) Sushi

15. Ama ebi (Sweet Shrimp) Nigiri Sushi

16. Aoyagi (Orange Clam) Nigiri Sushi

17. Tori-Gai (Birdshell Fish) Nigiri Sushi

18. Hotate (Scallop) Nigiri Sushi

19. Grilled Toro (Fatty Tuna) Nigiri Sushi

20. Kohara Nigiri Sushi

21. Tako (Octopus) Nigiri Sushi

22. Uni (Sea Urchin) Nigiri Sushi

23. Seared Sanma ("like mackarel") Nigiri Sushi

24. Maguro (Lean Tuna) Nigiri Sushi

25. Baby Scallop Nigiri Sushi

26. Grilled Anago (Saltwater Eel) Nigiri Sushi

27. Grilled Unagi (Saltwater Eel) cucumber sushi (no rice)

28. Black Truffle crusted rice

29. Shitake Mushroom Nigiri Sushi

30. Nege Toro (diced toro w/ scallion) Maki

31. Sea Salt Ume

32. Additional Uni Nigiri Sushi

33. Additional Deep Sea Snapper Nigiri Sushi

34. Japanese White Peach

Overall, this was an outstanding meal and worth $350. We ate quite a significant amount of fish for this price – some of which, like the Toro, can be very expensive on its own.

Edited September 11, 2006 by ajgnet (log)

[tupac17616]

To me, one of the beautiful mysteries of human existence is how two people with completely different backgrounds can enjoy the exact same experience in a distinct way. As the other member of ajgnet’s party last Saturday, I, too, thought our meal was outstanding, but for my own set of reasons, which are likely very different than his.

First, a disclaimer: I had never been to a sushi bar before that night. Ever. Sure, I’ve had raw fish before many times. Crudo. Tartare. A rose by any other name…

Unlike ajgnet, I’ve never been to Japan. I have little to no knowledge of the culture, the food, the language, etc.

So, not surprisingly, I was a bit hesitant at first. I’d been to many high end restaurants in the city, Masa’s neighbor Per Se included. So call me cheap, but a $350 prix fixe is enough to give almost anyone a bit of sticker shock. And dropping that kind of money on an experience that would be completely foreign to me, a different genre of restaurant than I’d ever been to before? Like handing a baby the keys to a Ferrari.

But, of course, you only live once, and the opportunity for an experience like Masa is not one that knocks on your door every day. So I bit the bullet, and went. These are my impressions:

The 30,000 year-old wooden fossil separating Masa from the outside world is less a door, more like a portal into another world. This is not the fourth floor of a bustling “urban mall” in the middle of New York City. Rather, it is an almost austerely tranquil temple. We enter slowly, immediately greeted (if you could call it that…) by a dark-suited gentleman who shows us to our spots at the 10-seat sushi bar. A party of four Japanese-speaking people to our left are engaging Masa about what he has just placed before them. We are not lucky enough to be situated directly in front of the master himself, but there are no nosebleed seats at this show. We are but a few feet away from greatness.

The bar itself is breathtaking. A solid piece of beautiful blonde hinoki wood that must have been almost 30 feet in length. Free of any stain or lacquer, just a pristine piece of natural wood, free of any blemish or scratch. Like the rest of the restaurant, the bar’s aesthetic is clean. Pure.

The air, too, is seemingly purged of all sound. Anything above a soft whisper seems more like a loud yell in this environment. It is a bit awkward adapting to this at first. Are these people actually enjoying their meals in this atmosphere? A quick look around at the room... Eyes closed in pleasure and sighs of contentment are enough to convince me that undoubtedly, they are. This is not a place for sushi conversation, but rather almost contemplation.

Before us sits nothing but a pair of chop sticks resting on their stand like a sculpture. Warm hand towels are brought out, and the sake menu and wine/cocktail lists soon follow. My friend makes his selection, while I stick with water, as I typically do not drink. The sake is brought out in a beautiful stone bowl and placed on a bed of chipped ice to keep it chilled. It is served in hollow sections of bamboo.

Chef Masa, dressed in white, is flanked on the left and right by his assistants, who wear black. A third assistant in the back mans the open grill. Masa’s eyes seem to dart around the room often. His look is stern, business-like. His orders to the others are delivered in short, staccato punches. They are heeded without a second thought.

The young chef in front of us (named Nick, we later come to find out) asks if we have any restrictions. We have none. We did not come here to try and put such shackles on their expression. This is about relinquishing control. Putting ourselves in their hands. We sit back, and it begins…

The chestnuts and gingko nuts are a warm, fragrant, herbal beginning.

A luxurious mound of toro tartare arrives blanketed by caviar. The unctuous tuna and the oceanic roe dissolve together on the tongue in a moment of culinary bliss. The salted butter of the gods.

The aji (horse mackerel) is light, refreshing, almost sweet, and incredibly different from the assertive, overly fishy imposters that have been passed off as mackerel any previous time that I’ve had it. It rests on a beautiful stone serving piece, that we later learn was designed by Masa himself, along with most of the other beautiful pottery pieces we’d see throughout the evening.

The baby eels are served with olive paste and sesame oil, and seem to be swimming in the bubbling hot mixture when it is set before us. They are tasty and just the slightest bit toothsome, almost like pasta. The olive paste was a bit too assertive, but that is one flavor I usually am not particularly fond of as it is.

The uni risotto is a huge disappointment. I had distant memories of reading several reviews that has praised this dish. I also very much enjoy uni, so was looking forward to this. Yet it is incredibly bland, completely lacking any salinity whatsoever. Somebody please pass the fleur de sel. The summer truffle aroma is pleasant, but the dish was severely lacking.

The fish (was it Buri?) for the shabu shabu has been beautifully scored by Masa, so that its flesh fans out and puffs up like popcorn when it was placed in the hot broth. The yuzu dipping sauce both cools the fish after each piece emerges from the hot broth, and provides a nice acidic top note of flavor. The dish is one of contrasts, and had the potential to be quite good, but as ajgnet expressed above, in the end it is bland. A little seasoning in the form of salt or some kind of spice/heat would have been appreciated here.

The broth is removed from the hot pot, and placed in a bowl. This, too, was quite bland. A few floating slice of mushroom and thin shavings of cucumber are not enough to enhance it at all. Yet I assume that drinking this leftover cooking broth as a soup is likely a traditional part of the meal, so I finish mine more to be respectful than based on any actual enjoyment of it. As with the entire meal, this is a new thing for me, so I just go with it.

A second hot hand towel arrives. Small stone serving pieces with ginger and soy sauce are placed in front of us. A small blank slab of black stone now rests on a short wooden stand between us and the chef. And the real show begins.

We are instructed to eat most of the pieces with our hands, as some can be quite delicate. Wonderful. I’ve always felt there is something intrinsic about the tactile sensation of eating with my hands that adds something extra to the experience of eating anyway. And inside I smile a bit, laughing at my own lack of dexterity with the chop sticks.

The first bite of rich, fatty Otoro is wonderful, and for an instant, thought-provoking. My first bite of true Japanese sushi, I have nothing to which I can compare it. No matter, though. Delicious is primal. Delicious needs no predecessor.

The rice is perfect. Just slightly warm. Somehow the small beds of rice have just enough starch to hold together in my fingers, yet the moment they hit my tongue they dissolve into a seemingly infinite matrix of tiny little grains. Nothing about the temperature, texture, aroma, or flavor is the least bit distracting on the palate. Fittingly, the rice is nothing more, and nothing less, than the ultimate vehicle for the fish.

Many other pieces follow like clockwork. The chef grabs a piece of pristine fish from a tray resting on a massive block of ice. His cuts are quick, precise, beautiful. Like a surgeon, he knows every line, curve, and groove of the fish’s flesh. He deftly scores, slices, or makes shallow grooves in the different pieces, knowing full well how to deliver the texture most fitting for each piece. He grabs a small glob of rice, shaping and working it in his left palm. He adds a dab of freshly grated wasabi to the top with his right middle finger, and then places the piece of fish on its newly made bed. Nothing more than a quick brushstroke of their housemade soy sauce adds a thin glaze of deep, intense flavor to each piece. Sometimes in lieu of the soy sauce comes a soft sprinkling of fleur de sel, thin slivers of shiso, or a squeeze of fresh yuzu and a few shavings of its zest. Each careful addition adds just the right top note to make the flavors sing together.

The sushi progression is a study in contrasts. We enjoy a sweet, subtle piece, only to be followed by something more assertive. A cool piece of fish is followed by one that’s just been pulled from the hot grill. A few times, the chef retreats momentarily to the open grill in the back, grabs a long hot iron rod from on top of the hot coals, and lightly sears a piece of sushi right before our eyes, leaving the smoky aroma of caramelized flesh lingering in our nostrils. The effect is intoxicating, creating contrasting flavors and temperatures in the very same bite.

Probably about half-way through what must have been around twenty sushi pieces, I politely mention to our young chef that for me, the fresh wasabi is a bit too distracting on the palate when combined with some of the more subtly flavored fish. His response is simply that “the wasabi is fresh ground here; that is why it is over your head.” Needless to say, that sounds pretty condescending, so I was a bit offended. It’s not like I’ve been drowning my pieces in soy sauce or asking for a California Roll or something. While it’s perfectly fine with some of the fuller flavored fish, the fresh wasabi just overwhelms the different flavor nuances of some of the more mild fish. Give me a break here. Luckily, though, he soon partially made up for it making a very apt comparison. “Well, really, it’s just like fine wines. If you don’t like them, don’t drink them. Different people have different tastes. Same goes for wasabi. If you would prefer no wasabi, then that’s perfectly fine. I’ll leave it out of yours from now on.” Thank you very much. I’m glad I asked, as I end up enjoying the purity of the flavors more from here on out.

Rather than attempting the impossible task of telling you what I thought of each and every piece, I’ll just mention some of the (many) highs and the (few) lows.

The aoyagi (orange clam), baby scallop, and grilled unagi (freshwater eel) were all a bit underwhelming. All a bit bland, what they lack in flavor they unfortunately did not make up for in texture. The ball of rice rolled in summer truffles was very pleasantly aromatic, but quite bland and boring in flavor. I assume real winter truffles would have been different, but it is, of course, not the season. The shiitake mushroom sushi was such a thin slice that it had little flavor, but it is good for a change of pace, if nothing else.

The tai (sea bream) was sweet and delicious. The kinme (deep sea snapper) was nothing short of revelatory, and if you held a gun to my head and forced me to choose just one piece, it may very well have been my favorite of the entire evening. The hotate (scallop) was quite good, sliced paper thin and seared over the hot open fire for an instant before being placed on the bed of rice. The suji (grilled toro sinew) was outstanding. The uni (sea urchin) was incredibly creamy, and tasted purely of the sea in a way that few other foods can even emulate. The maguro (lean tuna) was stunning, and no less delicious than the fattier tuna that had precided it. And the negitoro maki, a massive roll of perfectly pliable nori stuffed to the gills with diced toro and scallions…. well, let’s just say at this point I am out of positive adjectives. I just sit back, smile, and revel in the fact that there is probably nobody in the world eating quite as well as I am at that particular moment.

A tiny ume shiso ball is passed to us, with a quiet comment that “this is a pleasant way to end your meal.” And it’s done.

Or so we thought. Several minutes later, the chef asks if we would like anything else at this point. Not quite ready to quit this ride just yet, we each choose a favorite (his: uni; mine: deep sea snapper) and ask politely for one more round of each. They come. We devour them. We smile.

Dessert comes. A single Japanese white peach, sliced. A delicious, simple ending to a simply delicious meal.

As we sit there and slowly sip the soba cha (buckwheat tea) after the meal, talking with Masa and his younger assistants for what seems like hours, I can’t help but think about what an enlightening experience this has been for me. I had come in a sushi novice. I would be leaving very much still a sushi novice. Somehow, though, I feel like my initial ignorance was actually a positive thing. It left me with a very open mind, and an empty stomach, ready to take in everything that was sent my way. There’s something very natural and easy to appreciate about the Japanese approach to food. There is no pretense, no barriers, no gilding, and little saucing. Rather, freshness, simplicity, purity and minimalism are the tenets that quietly take their place. And those are things that most anyone, sushi novice, or otherwise, should have absolutely no trouble appreciating.

Of course, I realize later, I’ll have to answer all the questions about whether or not it was “worth it.” I feel like far too much of the talk about Masa centers around the price. Yet in the end, when we focus on such transient, temporal, and essentially meaningless things, we miss the big picture. Not everything is about money. Sometimes that money is buying more than just a meal. In my case, it bought education, nay, enlightenment even. For someone who gets too easily caught up in the New American upscale monotony that can be fine dining in New York City, it is more than a change of pace. It’s a completely new experience culturally, gastronomically, and ultimately, personally. So was it “worth it” for me? Well, if you haven’t figured that out by now, you’ve been reading the wrong review…

[raji]

Sounds like I really have to save up for a meal here, lest my sushi snobbery wane... It's the type of place that I'll withhold rent and eat 99cent pizza for a few weeks to get to.

Based on these latest reviews, it also sounds like you are not paying for a meal, you are paying for a feast. I can't recall any omakase, course or kaisekiryori I've ever had that had 34 distinct dishes. I've easily spent $200 on an omakase in Tokyo and that was for sushi only.

$350 plus plus is the blanket omakase price... meaning at the end you can actually ask for more of something you liked? Not that it seems like anyone has room. I'm curious how one also arranges to be in front of Masa.. I'd just call up in Japanese and ask to sit in front of him and find out availability...

I guess places like Morimoto, Ono, Matsuri, Buddokan help put things in perspective as well....

[tupac17616]

$350 plus plus is the blanket omakase price... meaning at the end you can actually ask for more of something you liked? Not that it seems like anyone has room. I'm curious how one also arranges to be in front of Masa.. I'd just call up in Japanese and ask to sit in front of him and find out availability...

Exactly. They will feed you to your heart's content. I asked for another piece of deep sea snapper, while my friend asked for another piece of uni. I could've easily kept going (with the negitoro maki, for example, which was unreal), not that I needed it in the least. But I refrained from asking for more. I didn't wanna be "that guy" (i.e. the ignorantly gluttonous American who never seems to be sated).

Re: Sitting in front of Masa -- Your idea sounds like a good one to me. I can't imagine why that shouldn't work. Probably would not have been an option the night we went, as a gentleman to our left who was entertaining business clients was clearly a friend of Masa, and was taken care of (i.e. no check was brought to the table).

[tupac17616]

Oh, and we quickly found out there was no photography allowed, but did manage at least to get in at least one picture. And what a tasty picture it was...

[crosparantoux]

Favorite dishes at Masa the other night:

A) Slices of fugu flesh, liver, and skin arranged over radish sprouts, drizzled with a light, citrusy sauce, sprinkled with tiny purple shiso blossoms and flakes of gold. The varying mix of textures and flavors in each bite was astounding. The fugu’s back bone was served up later, deep fried in a light gingery batter, the gelatinous bits of meat to be sucked out with the help of your fingers.

B) Toro comes in many ways over the course of the evening. Masa carves layers off a huge hunk of belly to serve as sushi. He cuts away the silvery sinew between the layers of toro and grills them, serving them separately in a hand-cone, accented with yuzu. From his fingers directly to your fingers—there is nothing between you and the chef but that luscious cone.

C) The one-two slam to your head: Masa takes a huge white truffle, so big that his stretched fingers cannot reach around it, and scrapes it with a truffle cutter. He scrapes and scrapes and scrapes, and the rarified air of his pristine sushi counter fills with the carnal stench of fresh truffle. He then rolls a small ball of rice around and around in the large pile of soft truffle flakes. The riceball expands as every bit of truffle sticks to it. With pinpoint wooden chopsticks, he drizzles a few drops of homemade white truffle oil on it, then a few crystals of his beige sea salt. He reaches over to serve it to you. Looking directly into your eyes he simply says, “Truffle,” and nods, his eyes wrinkling up at the corners in a smile. It is simply, and explosively, white truffle. While you savor the aftertaste, Masa lays out nori, a bit of rice and a fistful of chopped toro, sprinkled with chives. He rolls up a fat maki of the stuff and hands you two pieces. One large mouthful of toro blasts you instantly out of the galaxy. The next mouthful kills you.

D) Cuttlefish, sliced sheer, is wrapped completely around rice. It’s skewered with three long needles; minced matsutake mushrooms are sprinkled over. Masa lays it on a grill and works on other sushi for you. The cuttlefish returns later, hot, accented with char, sprinkled with yuzu juice. The matsutake is now crisp, the rice expanded in flavor from the grill and hot cuttlefish. Ocean, earth, fruit. It’s psychedelic.

E) The lobster and foie gras shabu shabu has accurately been raved about by others. The broth, served afterwards, glistens with the golden fat from the foie. It’s restorative.

Was there a disappointing dish? The golf ball-sized mound of minced toro topped with a heaping tablespoon of caviar would be spectacular anywhere else. The toro is perfect. But the caviar is farm-raised, from California. In the scale of the entire evening, this signature dish is just another course at Masa.

Nothing you’ve read or heard prepares you for the atmosphere of Masa. It is tiny and spacious at the same time. The 10 seat counter glows under halogen spots. The velvety wood counter and Masa’s work space seem to float out of shadows. There’s a wooden box of fish to the chef’s side, cooled by a large clear block of ice, and in front of him, a pair of yuzu, his single knife, and a few small bowls of sauce, salt, and herbs to accent sushi. Coals under a simple wire grill crackle just behind him. Everything is focused on the fish he carves and serves. The room is so quiet. Various helpers silently appear at your side to top off your tea, refresh your finger bowl with fresh warm lemon water, to replace hot hand towels, and periodically straighten the precise arrangement of water glass and chopstick holder before you. At one point Masa stopped slicing a julienne of needlefish. He looked at the little plate resting on a stone between us. The landing pad for the dozens of sushi throughout the evening, it didn’t seem right to him. He reached over and nudged it just a millimeter. Then he resumed slicing his fish. That perfection is everywhere. Watch him make wasabi. The large root is ground on sharkskin. Then he carefully, but swiftly, kneads the mush with his index finger, his other hand on his hip. As he pushes the wasabi smoother and smoother, he dabs at tiny bits and removes them. Then with his one knife, he chops at the little mound, refining it further. After adding drops of water, he kneads the wasabi thoroughly again with one finger, dabbing here and there for a few remaining bits.

The pace of the meal is unexpected. You’re welcomed with a slow, careful sequence of composed dishes. Then suddenly, you notice that Masa’s pace intensifies. He places fish after fish on his board, slicing, trimming, carving. The sushi comes one piece after another for the next two hours. It’s quick, but not rushed. There’s just enough time to savor an aftertaste of sweet or sea or earth before he delivers something new. The onslaught of sushi is staggering. Variations of eels, shrimps, snappers; fish grilled, raw, or pickled. Things you thought you understood, like scallops, squid, or octopus, are sliced differently, to bring out new flavors and more pleasing textures. And then, with the delivery of a rice ball accented with plum and rolled in a chiffonade of shiso leaves, it’s over. A new tea is served. You can linger. Cool pear is served. But eventually you have to return to the real world outside.

Right now the seasons for fugu and white truffle overlap. Masa’s prix fixe goes up in November. When you book, ask to sit in front of the master.

[docsconz]

What a fantastic report! Crosparantoux, you did an amazing job of bringing that meal to life for the rest of us. I will have to get to Masa one of these days. It sounds like now would be a great time if I could, but alas, I can't. Amazing descriptions of what surely was an amazing meal! Thank you.

[BryanZ]

It's October now, so does it go up even more in November? I'm kind of confused in that regard.

Is it lame to ask how much they charge over the phone for a given week or month? I'm thinking about going for (read: financing) a blowout meal in December and Masa is near the top of the list.

Edited October 17, 2006 by BryanZ (log)

[raji]

Me three.

I've spent or had spent on me around that number at other restaurants in NY, not-so-curiously, all Japanese - Sugiyama, Megu - but it's gonna be tough to do it all with no booze. Maybe I'll sneak a flask in...

[etnea]

Plan on eating at Masa soon.

Who has eaten there in the last six months?

Any information will be appreciated, I would love to be better informed as to what to expect.

Many thanks.

[SusanGiff]

Does anyone know how much omakase at Masa is running these days? Sorry, but I can't find a recent pricing elsewhere (including on the Masa website).

[mtgtimewalker]

Does anyone know how much omakase at Masa is running these days? Sorry, but I can't find a recent pricing elsewhere (including on the Masa website).

←

$400 per person before tax and gratuity.

Since 20% graduity is automatically included, you would be looking at a little over $500 per person if you don't order any alcoholic beverage.

[kreed]

How many eG'ers have had the Masa tasting menu? At $400-600 a pop it's quite an expensive experience. I keep picking up the phone to make a reservation and then think "What if I am served something that absolutely does not taste good to me?" And you are sitting very close to the chef...

I think I have this intimate tasting menu fear of Masa only because it's sushi. I love sushi. But who knows if any of these exotic sushi items won't sit well with my palette. I'm torn.

Thoughts?

[JWangSDC]

How many eG'ers have had the Masa tasting menu? At $400-600 a pop it's quite an expensive experience. I keep picking up the phone to make a reservation and then think "What if I am served something that absolutely does not taste good to me?" And you are sitting very close to the chef...

I think I have this intimate tasting menu fear  of Masa only because it's sushi. I love sushi. But who knows if any of these exotic sushi items won't sit well with my palette.  I'm torn.

Thoughts?

←

What are you favorite sushi places? What kinds of fish have you tried? Masa told me he serves blowfish when it's in season and even gives you a little taste of the poison(which has a numbing effect much like cocaine).

I personally think that when people are hesitant to try exotic fish, 90% of the time it's because their idea of exotic fish is BAD exotic fish. I have countless friends who are unwilling to eat uni, but that's just because the uni they've had is disgusting. I dont' think you'll run into any problems with exotic fish you don't want to eat. Unfortunately when I went I brought only my camera and no notepad only to be told no photography is allowed.

I'll also mention that if you are looking for the ultimate sushi experience, you're not going to find it at masa. Just head over to 15 east/Kuruma/ Yasuda. The meals there will be less complete (in that you will be focusing on only sushi), but the sushi itself is better. At these places the bill will only be about $200 (before tax and tip at yasuda/15 east) and $250 (before tax and tip) at kuruma.

[kreed]

What are you favorite sushi places? What kinds of fish have you tried? Masa told me he serves blowfish when it's in season and even gives you a little taste of the poison(which has a numbing effect much like cocaine).

I personally think that when people are hesitant to try exotic fish, 90% of the time it's because their idea of exotic fish is BAD exotic fish. I have countless friends who are unwilling to eat uni, but that's just because the uni they've had is disgusting. I dont' think you'll run into any problems with exotic fish you don't want to eat. Unfortunately when I went I brought only my camera and no notepad only to be told no photography is allowed.

I'll also mention that if you are looking for the ultimate sushi experience, you're not going to find it at masa. Just head over to 15 east/Kuruma/ Yasuda. The meals there will be less complete (in that you will be focusing on only sushi), but the sushi itself is better. At these places the bill will only be about $200 (before tax and tip at yasuda/15 east) and $250 (before tax and tip) at kuruma.

←

Thanks for the response. I'm not scared of fugu, although I've never tried it. I HAVE had uni, no issues there.

I think it's an issue of me feeling a bit overwhelmed by the possiblility that I could be served something that just does not sit right with me. I also admit to being a tiny bit intimidated by Masa's legendary palate I suppose. I really just wanted to treat myself to an "ultimate" dining experience in the city. Is there somewhere else you would recommend? This does not have to focus on sushi at all.

I (admittedly) have not yet done the WD-50 tasting but hope to do that this year as well.

[JWangSDC]

What are you favorite sushi places? What kinds of fish have you tried? Masa told me he serves blowfish when it's in season and even gives you a little taste of the poison(which has a numbing effect much like cocaine).

I personally think that when people are hesitant to try exotic fish, 90% of the time it's because their idea of exotic fish is BAD exotic fish. I have countless friends who are unwilling to eat uni, but that's just because the uni they've had is disgusting. I dont' think you'll run into any problems with exotic fish you don't want to eat. Unfortunately when I went I brought only my camera and no notepad only to be told no photography is allowed.

I'll also mention that if you are looking for the ultimate sushi experience, you're not going to find it at masa. Just head over to 15 east/Kuruma/ Yasuda. The meals there will be less complete (in that you will be focusing on only sushi), but the sushi itself is better. At these places the bill will only be about $200 (before tax and tip at yasuda/15 east) and $250 (before tax and tip) at kuruma.

←

Thanks for the response. I'm not scared of fugu, although I've never tried it. I HAVE had uni, no issues there.

I think it's an issue of me feeling a bit overwhelmed by the possiblility that I could be served something that just does not sit right with me. I also admit to being a tiny bit intimidated by Masa's legendary palate I suppose. I really just wanted to treat myself to an "ultimate" dining experience in the city. Is there somewhere else you would recommend? This does not have to focus on sushi at all.

I (admittedly) have not yet done the WD-50 tasting but hope to do that this year as well.

←

I'm really more of a sushi addict than a foodie, so I think we have different tastes. My guess is that Masa, Le Bernardin, Per Se, The French Laundry, Jean Georges, Alan Ducasse, or L'Atelier De Joel Robuchon would be what you are looking for. I personally would rather spend my $500 over two meals at the previously mentioned sushi restaurants, but I'm sensing that you would enjoy masa more. I don't feel qualified to comment on the other restaurants I've listed so hopefully other people will chime in.