This Month: In Deep Sushi

A delightful evening of raw fish and too much alcohol at Noe Valley’s newest, hippest eatery

By Gene Mahoney, the world’s most corrupt restaurant critic, with help from his lovely assistant, Kimberlye Gold

Friday, July 20^th was a great capper to a pretty decent day. I forgot what I did that day, probably because I had a little too much fun at the capper. The capper was at this really cool, packed, happenin’ sushi bar called Deep Sushi, which I stumbled into the day before, as I harassed the poor merchants of Church Street in Outer Noe Valley, trying to talk them into doing something really stupid — taking out an ad in the San Francisco Herald.

The cousins who own this place, Ray Tobias III and his cousin Galvan (my assistant Kimberlye Gold and myself are such lousy journalists we forgot to ask Galvin his last name) are charming young entrepreneurs who were probably popular, partyin’ type dudes in high school. Open merely 3-1/2 weeks; they have transformed what used to be Sonia’s Hair Salon (an old school beauty parlor owned by their twin mothers) into a tres chic neighborhood hot spot. However, this place is too hot for just Outer Noe Valley. Heck, for all of Noe Valley. Hell, for midtown. I can picture hipsters and yuppies trekking out here from the Haight and the Marina. Not many visitors from the bridge and tunnel crowd yet, I would imagine, but give it a few more months and that will change. I can picture lines around the block, just like its older, Chinese counterpart House of Nan king in North Beach.

The male members of the staff there wear black gas station attendant-like jumpsuits, ready to fill you up. Kimberlye walked in first because I have a mild case of obsessive-compulsive disorder and had to check whether I had put my car in park with the handbrake on (for the third time.) As soon as I told our adorable hostess Yasuko that we were with the Herald, Galvan, Ray, and the rest of the staff were at our beck and call. Toku, our charismatic 20-something sushi chef (with wild spiky dyed-red hair) kept us well fed and well entertained for the duration of our brief, but immensely satisfying encounter. He began by providing us with unique sushi plates garnished with a bamboo leaf (a very attractive touch.) I began by immediately putting a gob of the harmless- looking green paste directly in my mouth and nearly dying. K.G., somewhat of a sushi expert -- having waitressed at a trendy sushi bar in L.A. called Sushi Ko, frequented regularly by patrons such as Don Henley and Lesley Anne Warren -- patiently explained to me that I was supposed to take a tiny amount of the wasabe (that harmless-looking green paste) and mix it in with my soy sauce. I quickly washed it down with my giant bottle of Sapporo (did I spell it right? I don’t speak Japanese) beer.

First on the agenda was a sushi special called The Sunflower, a roll consisting of salmon, cucumber, shrimp tempura, smelt eggs, garlic mayonnaise sauce with a raw egg on top, artistically presented in the shape of a… sunflower. Cute! And tasty, too! From there on, it was a whirlwind of Japanese culinary delight. Try to keep up with us.

Next up was mountain yam wrapped in sisho beefsteak leaf. Interesting. The guys then brought us half a bottle of ’96 Closda Chateau White Chardonnay -- light, nice, and crisp. Then we had fresh salmon soup with scallions in a light miso broth. I quickly slurped down mine (and Kimberlye’s, too.) Following that, a spicy tuna roll with hot oil mayonnaise, scallions, and cucumber. K.G. said it was delightfully traditional. Next was something called Ume-Q-Ri Hirame, consisting of halibut, cucumber, and shiso beefsteak leaf with Japanese plum sauce. K.G. said it was very unique, and I just ate it all. When asked if I would like some eel, I replied, "I’m vegetarian. Can I have some crab?"

They slipped me the eel anyway, but it was warm, sweet, and mmm mmm good. Next was Toku’s grandmother’s recipe of Spanish mackerel bone, which he told us was like beef jerky, Ms. Gold didn’t care for it, but it reminded me of how my dad used to make bacon when I was a kid. I ate it all! Ray then brought us a ’97 Marcone (a light, fruity French white wine which he said was low in alcohol — we drank a glass each.) Toku then handed us a plate of hamachi: yellowtail jaw on the bone, with soy vinegar sauce. Kimberlye couldn’t get the salty fish off the bone. I just picked it up and gnawed most of it before giving it to the friendly couple next to us.

After a glass of ’90 Delamonte champagne that Ray thrust upon us, and some plum wine, God knows what else we ate except that it was damn good. So good it was worth walking around the neighborhood for an hour so the CHP wouldn’t pull us over. Get yourself in some Deep Sushi at 1740 Church St. Their phone number is (415) 970-DEEP. www.deepsushi-sf.com.

Gene can be emailed here.