7 East 47th Street 2nd floor between Madison and Fifth Avenues
$350 for two, with four beers, with tip
Dining in Kurumazushi is no joke and that’s apparent as soon as you walk in the tight second floor space in midtown Manhattan. The entire staff greets you loudly and the attention given doesn’t wane until you leave the building. Our waiter watched us eat like a hawk. A drop spilled from the boy’s teacup and he came running to wipe his tray clean. A dangling piece of mackerel escaped my big bite and he immediately replaced my mat. Our sushi chef at the bar was old but he was also the jolliest and the liveliest Japanese man I’ve ever met. His assistant is surprisingly a young Dominican (!) woman (!) who has been training under his tutelage for about ten years (!).
We opted for the omakase and never regretted a second of it until the $350 bill came at the end of the night. The chef started us off with otoro, then the yellowfin, the clam, the snapper and the mackerel, everything prepared in pairs. When we told him that we were getting full, he asked if we wanted to end our meal with uni. A smile reached my ears; there’s always room for a sea urchin or two. We also asked for miso and nameko mushroom soup to calm our stomachs.
I’ve followed Ruth Reichl to Kurumazushi but I don’t think I will ever return and eat there again unless someone else foots the bill.