Sushi has always been one of my favourite foods. While I do love the high-end Japanese restaurant experience with a refined (read: often mournfully small, albeit delicious) portion of assorted unusual top-quality raw fish atop perfectly-cooked rice that has been prepared by a chef who has to train for 3 years even to be able to do just that, the combination of freshness and flavour that is the basis of sushi's appeal can be attained more simply, cheaply and fillingly. The form that epitomises this: the sushi handroll. Not quite the same as the standard temaki, which is usually rolled into a cone shape, the handroll is simply a normal maki roll, with not too much rice or filling (somewhere between the average hosomaki and futomaki in diameter) but instead of sliced into 8 pieces, just cut in half. Because there's less exposed rice, they pack and travel well and are easy to eat on the go -- you can put them in a paper bag without rice sticking to everything, and they don't fall apart in transit or while you're munching. They are usually reasonably-priced, from $2-3 per roll, and 2 or 3 rolls make a decent lunch.
In Melbourne, sushi handroll shops started proliferating about 15 years ago by my count, as I've written about previously. Nowadays they are everywhere and even in the dingiest shopping centre in the outer western suburbs you are likely to find somewhere to satisfy a sushi craving. I don't know where the handroll phenomenon started; I doubt it was in Japan, as I
didn't see any while I was there and in fact suspect the
Japanese might view them as somewhat sacrilegious, since I'm sure the
method of preparation and serving, not to mention some of the
combinations, are in violation of the traditions and customs that have
grown up around sushi in Japan. In fact, now I come to think of it, I
can't recall seeing them anywhere except for Australia; perhaps in the
US, though I have no clear memory of it.
In any case, cheap and convenient sushi was a regular part of my diet until I moved to Manchester and discovered that here, in 2005, there was no such thing. Yo!Sushi, at that time only in Selfridges, was about the closest, but it was still comparatively expensive, with 3-4 plates plus soup and water easily stacking up to over £10. So I was super-excited when, some years ago now, Wasabi Sushi & Noodle Bar opened just round the corner from me in Chinatown, with all plates £1.50 and a 6-plates+soup or 3-plates+noodle/rice dish deal for £7.95. They also have special offers on 10-plates+soup or, although I don't know how anyone would ever manage to eat this much, 10-plates+noodles/rice! When I first visited with my equally sushi-loving friend Andy, he was all for ordering the mega-deal; after our noodles, 3 plates and just having managed to stuff in an extra plate each, we both agreed it was a good thing I'd talked him out of it... The prices have gone up a bit since (there's now a variable pricing structure on the plates, with the basic plates £2.00 and up to £3.50 for deluxe items, and the set menu is now £8.50) but it still remains a frequent and favourite destination.
On a recent visit I managed to tear myself away from the set menu, as I had a fancy for the rich and savoury taste of unagi-donburi (grilled eel rice bowl). In general, items on the a la carte menu are regularly 30% off at all times (I thought this was a special opening offer to begin with, but it's been the case ever since; why they don't just print a menu with lower prices, I'm not sure, but maybe it makes customers feel happy to be getting a 'discount') but as I found out, the una-don is now sadly an exception to this, apparently because of the increased price of eel. At £9.25 however it's still reasonable value; in Japan this amount of eel alone, from an unagi vendor, not in a restaurant, would cost nearly the same.
The skin could perhaps have been grilled to a tad more crispness, but the texture of the flesh was just right -- soft but not mushy, rich but not oily -- and the deeply-flavoured sauce, rice and pickles combined to make a satisfying bowlful.
I also ordered a couple of skewers of yakitori, thinking with fondness of my various izakaya experiences in Japan. The sticky tare sauce was a little sweet but I rather like it that way; the chicken -- breast fillet, I think -- was fine, although it was on the dry side; always a problem with breast meat.
Some time after Wasabi first opened, they added a new feature upstairs called the "Dessert Room", sounding like the place of which childhood dreams are made and with enticing pictures of fantastical concoctions featuring ices, waffles, pancakes syrups, fruits and exciting toppings. I am less of a sweet-tooth these days than when I was younger and despite having been in regularly for sushi, noodles and the like, I'd never got round to checking it out. Yesterday, though, I visited Wasabi with a more dessert-inclined friend and finally took the plunge.
After vegetable tempura ramen and assorted plates of sushi, I wasn't sure how much room I would have for dessert. The lightness of the snow-ice was both inviting and deceptive -- multiple layers of thinly-extruded sorbet folded over on each other to make it even more airy, but it was still quite a large mound! I had a hard time deciding which flavour to go for; mango was tempting but eventually lychee won out and was just what I wanted it to be: fruity, refreshing, not too sweet, served with little pieces of strawberries and some other fruit I couldn't identify, two tinned lychees and a little heap of what turned out to be juice pearls, filled with lychee-flavoured syrup, that pop in the mouth in a deliciously thrilling way! I shall definitely be having these again. (There were also 4 squashy mochi balls, which I left discreetly behind at the bottom of the bowl; I'm not a fan of eating dough.)
My companion in dessert-adventuring chose the chocolate-Oreo variety, which came topped with (as you'd expect) crushed Oreos, plus mini-marshmallows and strawberries and a drizzle of syrup. The snow-ice, of which I had a taste, was intensely chocolatey and met with approval from us both.
At around £5 these are not cheap desserts, but you could always share one between two (so long as you could agree on the flavour! Other intriguing possibilities include green tea; black sesame; and blueberry) or go in specifically for dessert -- I think, having discovered the delights of this place late but better than never, I might be doing just that in future. If I can resist the sushi, that is...
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