Fish With a Catch

“This one? it’s 8 years old,” sushi master Masa Takayama answers, scrubbing a piece of fresh wasabi across a grater made of rough shark skin. The slow-growing root is the color of pale grass, its taste sharp yet complex. Taking a bit of moist rice from a wooden tub, Takayama quickly forms it into a small oval, dabs it with the grated wasabi and lays a slice of heavily marbled toro, the prized tuna belly, on top. A flick of a brush laden with a dark soy glaze, and he sets it before me.

This is toro with a finish that lingers in the mouth like a grand cru Burgundy. One bite tells me I’m in the hands of a master and I’ve entered another dimension of sushi, one found only at the most exclusive sushi restaurants of Japan. But here I am at Ginza Sushiko, a spare and beautiful restaurant on the second level of Via Rodeo, that tacky Beverly Hills fantasy of an Italian hilltop town just off Rodeo Drive. Past the traditional indigo cloth banners at the entrance, the pale maple counter that seats only nine is sanded as smooth as satin. Beneath a dark, evocative painting of stippled green melons is a single table for four. And behind the counter, a 300-year-old dun-colored vase, warped and blistered from the violence of the kiln, holds acid-green spider mums, all the more striking against the blue-green wall.

To serve seafood that meets his exacting standards, Takayama has it flown in from Japan two or three times a week and works only by reservation, so he knows precisely how many customers are coming each night. Silvery needlefish and mackerel, claret-colored tuna, violet-and-white octopus tentacle, a few pearly abalone shells and live red clams are displayed next to a block of ice in a glass box with as much care as the jewels arranged in a Tiffany window.

Much of the pleasure of dining here is watching Takayama work: the ballet of his broad hands, the flash of his knives. He is as much a craftsman--and has the same respect for his materials--as a master weaver or potter. So though there’s no menu at Ginza Sushiko, I would never presume to tell him what to make. To fully experience Ginza Sushiko, you must be willing to eat anything and everything. That could include fare as exotic as a soup of blowfish sperm sacs and mochi or sushi of shrimp that were wriggling just moments earlier.

A recent meal for two begins with hairy crab from the seas off the island of Hokkaido. The shell is a rose coral; legs are covered with fine hairs. Using a stainless-steel crab pick, we pry out morsels of tender flesh, tasting like the essence of the sea, and savor the “butter” that clings to the inside of the shell. For dipping, there’s a light soy sauce infused with fresh ginger. Then come two wooden rafts of ochre-colored uni, or sea urchin roe, and a stack of crinkly green-black nori, or seaweed. The kimono-clad waitress demonstrates how to fold a sheet of the seaweed into a cone, add one or two pieces of uni (dipped in the light soy sauce, if you like), then finish with a touch of wasabi. The uni has a delicacy and sweet brininess that’s sublime. It is one of the best things I’ve ever eaten. We groan with pleasure and eat slowly to make it last longer.

Next Takayama uses a knife with a long, wide blade to cut across a slender hamo fish in a rocking motion, moving the fingers of his other hand back a fraction with each slash. We hear a faint click as he cuts through the hamo’s bones. He piles four to five inch-wide pieces of fish into a speckled brown bowl just as the waitress reappears, bearing handsome red clay shabu-shabu pots filled with a clear broth and scraps of seaweed. The idea is to use your chopsticks to swirl the hamo through the boiling broth until it turns white. When it’s cooked, the finely scored flesh looks like a chrysanthemum blossom or some incredibly intricate mushroom.

Now it’s time for sushi, beginning with some of that marvelous toro. Then more nigiri-zushi of Japanese fish with different textures and tastes, some of which have no equivalent in English. After that comes sushi made with akagai, or live red clam, which arches and curls on the cutting board. Next Takayama selects a section of octopus tentacle, slices it and taps it lightly with the knife to score it, then adds sea salt and a squeeze of yuzu. Milky squid is fabulous with the combination of grated citrus zest and the crunch of salt.

Beside the chef sits a rectangular tabletop grill made from the same red clay as the shabu-shabu pots. It’s fired with a special hardwood from northern Japan that’s so hard it sounds like steel if it’s dropped, Takayama tells us. When the fire is hot, he grills slices of meaty matsutake mushrooms just long enough to turn their edges brown and serves the musky yellowed-ivory mushrooms as sushi, too.

And then Takayama takes out a huge slab of the most beautifully marbled beef I’ve ever seen: Japan’s fabled Kobe beef. He cuts it into sushi-sized pieces and wipes each across the grill so it won’t stick. After cooking it briefly to bring out the meat’s rich perfume and taste, he lays it on a pillow of rice.

Finally, we enjoy a cup of pungent green tea followed by dessert: a persimmon chilled and soaked in Grand Marnier until it begins to resemble a persimmon sorbet. We take our time scooping out the flesh with a spoon to prolong this marvelously sensuous meal.

When we’re done, we both announce at the same moment that we could eat here once a week. In our dreams, that is. Our bill for this benchmark sushi experience comes to just under $250 per person. In blowfish season, the tab can soar even higher. Ginza Sushiko is easily the most expensive restaurant in Los Angeles. Is it worth it? Absolutely.

GINZA SUSHIKO

CUISINE: Japanese. AMBIENCE: Sushi bar with seats for nine at the pale maple counter. BEST DISHES: Let the chef decide. DRINKS: Sake and Japanese beers. FACTS: 218 Via Rodeo, North Rodeo Drive, Beverly Hills; (310) 247-8939. Dinner by reservation only Monday through Saturday. Dinner for two, food only, $350 to $500.