Restaurant Review - Go fish

Wasabi in Castleberry Hill shows us how a neighborhood sushi bar should be done

It’s been at least 20 years since sushi seemed like a foreign food. Gone are the days when sushi could be used as a metaphor for yuppie pretension or big-city excess. There is sushi in all but the most rural of American towns, in supermarket grab-and-go cases and as a menu booster in American bistros.

We are swimming in sushi.

Quality sushi is another matter. Fish that is cut badly, stiff with cold, or just downright boring or icky is far too common in our neighborhood restaurants and, sadly, even in our high-end restaurants.

With such prevalence, every neighborhood deserves a quality sushi restaurant. Perhaps no neighborhood deserves it more than Castleberry Hill, that nook of artsy urbanism that so far has attracted a lot of art galleries but not many restaurants. I’m assuming that the loft dwellers who reside there are hungry, and finally they are being fed. In recent months, a number of eateries have opened in Castleberry, and so far the winner is Wasabi, a small sushi bar that is sleek, simple and serves some pretty darn good sushi.

The ingredients to success at Wasabi seem to be two parts style and one part simplicity. Space Age white décor accented with red panels lends the place a hipper-than-thou vibe (which some of the customers seem to take pretty seriously), but service is warm enough to make you feel included in the hipness. A large, high-definition TV set above the bar seems like overkill in this tiny strip of a restaurant, but then again, it would be nice to see the eradication of televisions in all restaurants that don’t bill themselves as sports bars.

The glossy space is too modest in size for a full kitchen, which means no tempura, udon or teriyaki entrees. The menu consists of sushi, sashimi and rolls, and the narrow focus translates to purity on the plate. Where other sushi bars go over the top, pouring sweet and goopy sauces on rolls or deep-frying cream cheese, Wasabi is restrained, flavors are crisp and defined, and fish retains its dignity.

This isn’t to say that Nhan Le, the chef and one of the owners, doesn’t have some fun with the menu. Rolls such as the Bull’s Eye go for the gimmick, but do it with class. Eel, crunchies (OK, maybe class is the wrong word) and avocado are topped with yellowtail as well as a thin slice of jalapeño and a dot of sriracha chili sauce. This is one of the best novelty rolls I’ve had in recent memory, with the meaty eel balanced nicely with buttery yellowtail and the jalapeño delivering a fresh, palate-cleansing kick of spice to round the whole thing out.

Sushi and sashimi are cut and presented with care, and are never too cold or too warm. Le employs a young woman named Jennifer Brown as his secondary sushi chef, which is a rarity. (In Japan, women’s hands are considered too warm to handle the fish.) Rice is firm, sweet and glossy, never pasty. This is not sashimi as revelation, as it is in the best sushi restaurants, but it is fairly priced, fresh and lovingly presented. A sushi and sashimi combination, which is enough to share and includes a spicy tuna roll, will set you back only $22.

A room this smooth calls for sexy cocktails, and Wasabi has a wide assortment, including a signature martini made from wasabi vodka, cucumber and pickled ginger, and served with tuna sashimi. Sound over-the-top? It is. Sound gross? It isn’t.

The sake selection is conservative but well-chosen and affordable, and the wine list offers some tempting choices. It’s a fun bar scene, if you can put up with the occasional poser waving his cash around, but really, what bar these days is devoid of that particular beast?

If the place has an air of Los Angeles, that’s no coincidence, as both owners are transplants from the City of Angels. Nhan Le worked as a sushi chef there before moving to Atlanta, and Benjamin Krause worked in film in L.A. before coming to Castleberry Hill to open Krause Gallery. Wasabi has been a year-and-a-half in the making, and while it’s early days yet, the neighborhood seems to be embracing the little restaurant. As well they should — deserving quality sushi and getting it are two different things. Wasabi, and therefore Castleberry Hill, gets it.