Relish: Sushi King moniker misleading

By Drew Berger and Emily Salomon     4/15/10 7:00pm

We are white people (see picture). Affluent, sheltered, suburban white people who fit in perfectly with the rest of the patrons at Sushi King last Saturday night. The establishment is little more than another iteration of the "Americanized Sushi" algorithm, with heavy weighting factors for price and comfort and sacrifices of authenticity and excitement. Ingredients like cream cheese, jalapeños, papayas and limes can be found here, and the popular American process of deep-frying rolls and then loading them with fatty sauces is all too common.The restaurant seemed conflicted about how it wanted to present itself: The hostess was Caucasian but greeted us in broken Japanese, startling our delicate sensibilities and triggering a fight-or-flight reflex. (Perhaps we should have listened to what our bodies were telling us.) Once we were assured that she in fact spoke English, we pressed on, exchanging our 5:30 p.m. reservation for one of two dozen empty tables - the hostess recommended reservations for 7 p.m. or later.

Despite being initially startled, we were impressed by the restaurant's style, with modern light fixtures and crisp white linen tablecloths. Smooth jazz played quietly in the background, and we easily sank into a sleek gray booth for two by the window. Our table was flooded with sunlight without forcing us to admire the strip mall parking lot for the duration of our meal.

With the four-page menu and extensive specialty sushi list in hand, we requested a recommendation from our waitress. She suggested items that were especially Texan-friendly, such as the Jalapeño Age, an appetizer of fried jalapeños stuffed with cream cheese and crab meat. This reminded Emily of jalapeño poppers, so we decided to pass.

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We ordered the Hannah Age instead - a delightful piece of comfort food: gooey seafood, shiitake and papaya within, crispy, salty fried rice paper without. We forgot about the inclusion of the South American papaya as an ingredient, as its flavor was lost amid the shrimp and mycoprotein. We chalked it up to an unimpressive effort to distinguish Sushi King's dishes from the other sushi clones around Houston.

We ordered three sushi rolls, all of which were uramaki (rice on the outside, which is a Western style of sushi). The Rainbow roll, with crab on the inside and a colorful assortment of fish on the outside, was Emily's favorite for its freshness. Drew was partial to the Hot Mama roll, though Emily thought it tasted like the bizarre love child of nachos and sushi - in a bad way. She felt the roll was so heavy with jalapeños and salsa that the plentiful crab and fish became unnoticeable. Drew was disappointed that the sauce blended the crunchy coating into the rice for a uniform mild texture but enjoyed finding a slice of fresh jalapeño bursting onto the scene midway through every piece. The Nemo roll, which Emily had been anticipating because it contained two of her favorite fish, tuna and salmon, lacked interest. It didn't deliver on flavor or texture, which was disappointing, as it came drizzled in a special sauce and looked rather appealing. Every dish was artistically presented, but the sushi chefs weren't going crazy with culinary creativity.

Drew unilaterally elected to order something Sushi King dubbed "traditional": the Dobin Mushi soup. This was easily the most intricate and exciting soup we have ever eaten. Our waitress correctly assumed that Drew had no idea how to extricate the food from the adorable teapot she brought to the table, and since they were out of instruction manuals, she took a few moments to demonstrate the use of the assembly: top comes off, soup pours inside in quarter-ounce servings, repeat. It was a rewarding exercise. The broth was hot and flavorful, swinging from clam to shrimp to fish cake with a consistent underpinning of chicken. Available for seasoning was another unexplained piece of South American fruit, the lime. Sadly for the Japanese, whose country does not produce limes, it was a well-suited Americanized ingredient. Peering into the teapot, Drew gleefully found the culprit of every flavor in the broth. The clam, however, was unpleasant.

Our meal ended on a low note with tempura ice cream. The restaurant makes three uncommon types of ice cream - red bean, green tea and plum - but they only use vanilla in the fried dessert. The dough is nothing like the light, thin crispiness of any other tempura we've had, which was a huge letdown. It also left a weird aftertaste.

Although we had high expectations for the popular Sushi King, we were ultimately disappointed. While the service and atmosphere were pleasant, the food was just above passable. In the realm of American sushi, a familiar landscape to us, Sushi King's offerings were unimpressive and overpriced. We paid $75 with tip and left unsatisfied. It looks like we'll have to keep looking for our favorite Houston sushi restaurant.

Drew Berger is a Lovett College junior and Emily Salomon is a Wiess College junior.

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