Factoid: Nava, the longstanding “Southwestern” eatery from the Buckhead Life Restaurant Group, is headed for the land of restaurants past. While I don’t think anyone from BLRG has officially gone on record, this has been rumored and considered by many people over the past months and years. The rumors are dead because this is now a fact. Nava is closing in August despite (or perhaps b/c of) the revitalization that’s happening in Buckhead. Because of that revitalization, Nava’s demise is not the only part to this story.
You see, one might argue that the intersection of Peachtree and East/West Paces Ferry is in fact the epicenter of Atlanta’s ritziest zip code. 3060 Peachtree Rd (the building that houses Nava) has kind of gotten the “Up” treatment in recent years; so you know someone was going to jump at the opportunity to move in. As it just so happens, it appears that someone is right outside the neighborhood gates.
It’s been a few years since I’ve said anything of substance on Sushi House Hayakawa, and that needs to change, even if my feelings towards this delightful Atlanta sushi bar have not. Stashed away on the BuHi corridor of Doraville, I half feel like a damn investor. Mind you, this isn’t due to some compromising relationship with owner Atsushi Hayakawa (call him Art or Haya-san). Rather, it’s just that I’ve pumped more than a g-string’s worth of the green stuff into Haya-san’s pockets by way of an onslaught of visits in the near four year run for the restaurant.
During the unfortunate periods when my visits come at a snail’s pace, I find my impression of the restaurant seems to cool and I begin to question its place amongst the handful of better than average sushi bars around the city. I leave realizing how fucking insane and seriously bat shit crazy those doubts are. Each new visit washes away that pish posh and reinvigorates my warmth for the jovial little Japanese restaurant.
My last meal in Los Angeles was a lunch at Matsuhisa in Beverly Hills. Before I headed north to the bay of San Francisco, I wanted to sneak into this widely regarded sushi bar, the first jewel in the crown of famed sushimonger Nobu Matsuhisa. Nobuyuki-san, perhaps the first celebrity sushi chef, has an empire that stretches several continents and a multitude of restaurants. But it was this little spot on the edge of Beverly Hills where he first rose to worldwide acclaim.
Nowadays, Nobu-san no longer ambles behind the bar at Matsuhisa, instead leaving these day-to-day activities to people like chef Yoshi, a congenial and talented man who hails from Hiroshima’s countryside. With a lofty reputation, I am sad to say that my single meal at Matsuhisa, while completely pleasant, did not quite qualify amongst the best I’ve indulged in of this Japanese art form.
Like every other Atlanta foodie, a short while back I dropped in the food Mecca that is New York. It was an ungodly trip of lusty, slutty, completely inappropriate foodie indulgence and I’m just now getting my thoughts organized and my photos online. I’ve long talked of my man love for Sotohiro Kosugi. The guyartist super hero is now up to two Michelin Stars. I think eating at Soto every time you (or me for that matter) hit NYC would be a good thing. For space’s sake, I was not able to include all the pictures; however, you can find the full Soto New York picture set on Flickr. Without further adieu, Soto Sushi in in pictures #Amazing #BeJealous #LetsGetItOn
While the James Beard Award may carry more notability around these parts, the Michelin Guide is in fact the real deal. Early this morning, the famed guidebook (and tire manufacturer), released their ratings for 2011. Of particular note to us in the Dirty, Sotohiro Kosugi garnered a second star for his well regarded New York Citysushi bar. This is an astounding accomplishment, and with restaurants like Wylie Dufresne’s wd~50 sitting below Soto, you can tell this is an impressive heap to climb. While Bibendum is all smiles today, this serves as another twist to the gut for those of us her in Atlanta! If you’re curious to see the whole list, you can see it here!
Patrons of all sorts debate the value of a meal at MF Buckhead, Atlanta’s most shi-shi sushi spot. Together with MF Sushi Bar and MF Omakase Room, Chris Kinjo’s restaurants are the easiest way to have sushi burn a hole in your pocket. Though indulgent excess is on the decline, and Atlanta’s high-end dining scene is so thin that even Quinones is a once a week affair, elegant expense still has its place in our city.
For the past year and change, Kinjo has been utilizing his hidden room at the Buckhead outpost to serve some of the best sushi this city has seen in many a year. Up a single flight of stairs, tucked away in a serenely styled room is a Japanese speakeasy that should be on everyone’s list for special occasions. Believe you me, the MF Omakase Room is as good as it gets.
Intown Atlanta has no shortage of burger joints and pizzerias. Consequently, it seems that this reality costs us the opportunity to enjoy true ethnic food, as framed by our natural ethnocentrism, without having to haul booty up Buford Highway. Enter Wasabi Grill, a new Japanese/Korean smörgåsbord in the Home Park section of The Westside. While it may not be the most authentic endeavor, Wasabi Grill, like Miso Izakaya and Hankook Taqueria, is an attempt to give urban Atlanta an alternative to the Americanized sushi bars and assimilated Chinese restaurants that most of us think about when the words “Eastern cuisine” are used.
Having replaced Mosaic Halal Café, you’ll find Wasabi Grill on 14th street just across from Jimmy John’s. Open just about a week and change, I strolled by a week ago yesterday for a little “Linner.” While there isn’t anything about the place that makes me think we’re about to witness a renaissance, it did okay given the circumstances.
Since my introduction to Yakitori Jinbei in late 2009 (thanks Spark Plug), the restaurant has worked itself into my regular rotation. I’ve introduced several people to the joint, told countless others, and return whenever I get a hankering for some ramen. (occasional acts of indiscretion at Haru Ichiban notwithstanding).
Having successfully convinced many a foodie that I am not actually cuckoo for cocoa puffs, the newly minted Ramen Brigade set out late last week for a little Hi, Hello, and some much needed sustenance. Having grabbed Spark Plug and @NoKungFu in route, we met up with Dea (website) and Weigy (website) for some good ole fashion yakitori. Needless to say, I had no business at the table with people who might as well bleed Asiatic cuisine. Still, I managed to sneak a seat, and the Ramen Brigade was up and running.
Buckhead’ssushi scene is about to get a lot more crowded. A few months ago, word broke that Tomo was set to open in The Ritz-Carlton residences building, At the time, owner/chef Tomohiro Naito was not sure if his namesake restaurant would keep its current location in Vinings. Well, according to several of their servers, the Vinings location isn’t going anywhere. As for the soon to be Buckhead joint, the details are still coming together. As for now, Restaurants Consulting Group is handling the design, and they have said that the plans are to make the restaurant into a higher-end sushi bar. There’s no confirmed word yet on an exact opening date, but end of summer was tossed around.
It’s been several years since Taka Moriuchi packed his knives, left his position as understudy to sushi God Sotohiro Kosugi (aka the dude who ran the much discussed Soto), and settled in as the leader of Taka Sushi Café.
Much like my father, it took me some time before I warmed to the idea of visiting Taka-san in Buckhead. Even after Soto departed our fare city, something in me caused this undue shackling of obligations. Mind you, nothing about that decision had anything to do with the kind and approachable Taka.
Time passed and wounds healed, and so began my long inevitable decent into complacency. Yes, I finally started to drift in and out of this notable Buckhead establishment. As it happened, 24-months had flown by since my last soirée, well before the young Buddha was born within. Rather than try and recall experiences buried in the cobwebs someone might call “my brain,” a recent night cap inspired this infant impression.
