Photo Credit: Curtis C. |
Not too long ago, Ben and I went to Joshu-ya Brasserie for the first time. It's almost inconceivable that we hadn't been there before, since it's only a few blocks away and we're both sushi fiends. Now, Joshu-ya's sushi was pretty good; it definitely beat out my old favorite, Manpuku, in the flavor and freshness departments. But I'm choosy about my sushi. I like it when the fish speaks for itself. Cucumber, rice, seaweed, avocado are only there as complements, supporting actors if you will, to the main attraction that is seafood. And, of course, the very best sushi has that remarkable just-plucked-from-the-ocean freshness to it.
Waiting patiently for our food. Good example of the aesthetically pleasing aspects of our meal. |
WARNING: Contents of this plate may burn your tongue and set your lips aflame, even sans wasabe. |
But, as the title of this post suggests, the sushi itself paled in comparison to its aesthetics, for me anyway. The plating was so beautiful that I couldn't help but awkwardly take multiple photos with my lovely, bulky dSLR. I thought the outside of Joshu-ya was pretty charming too, but this may have merely been my proclivity for twinkly christmas lights in outdoor, nighttime settings.
Gorgeous and pretty darn yummy to boot. |
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