I wish this photo had come out better! Seated at the bar, which wrapped around the sushi chefs in a medium-sized rectangle so we could watch their practiced sushi-making dance, each time a certain roll was ordered they busted out a blow torch. We scanned the menu to figure out what he was doing exactly and then threw shame out the window and just said "we'll have whatever
that is." It happened to be a California roll-type deal with shrimp on top that were ever-so-slightly charred so as to add a carbon element subtle enough to turn average into rather remarkable. Eventually we were also served kingfish "sashimi"—quotation marks signifying my wavering about whether it can still be sashimi if it's crisped by flame—with criss-cross burn marks.
Expert. If only I got a shot of the head chef double-flaming with a torch in both hands!
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