I am sick of sushi.

So is my body, or so I can assume. My girlfriend Mele returned from a routine check-up at the doctor with the stern warning, “Stay off the mercury for awhile,” and neither of us was surprised. As part-time pescatarians in the summer, we’d been craving lighter, cooler dinners. Sushi is a favorite for both of us, so we’d overdone it with mercury-laden nigiri.

Obscenely overpriced omakase aside, sushi is generally not associated with excess, and unfried fish is rarely the glutton’s vice. Tell that to raw seafood fanatics and the booming all-you-can-eat sushi franchises of Southern California, where – as I learned on an all day happy hour Sunday at Midori in Studio City – omnivores and pescatarians alike tend to overdo it.

Even in Japan, endless eating establishments are a common find, and I’m not just talking about the exploits of Kobayashi. Conveyor belt sushi, or kaiten-sushi, is a common kind of fast food and another way to overdo it on the raw fish scale. Los Angeles’s cultural transplant of this concept, Daichan Kaiten Sushi, takes the sin of gluttony to the next level. On a wall by the entrance, Polaroid snapshots of sushi champions pose next to leaning stacks of empty plates (the record when I lasted visited was 40).

Despite my excess sushi habits, consumptive glory is not why I keep returning to Daichan. The convenience of conveyor belt sushi relieves the pressures of dining out and allows you to eat at your own pace and at your own capacity. Daichan, affordable and easy, serves a delicious clam miso soup, has decent quality fish and boasts an easygoing head chef by the name of Bruce who, by the end of the meal, will probably surprise you with something that isn’t on the menu, whether you like it or not. On my last visit, Bruce comped me a sunomono salad with seaweed and thinly sliced octopus that was quite tasty.

In fact, Daichan’s best stuff has to be ordered off the menu. Items available on the conveyor belt are dictated by whatever kind of sushi is the most popular amongst customers. Since Daichan is located between two colleges, the selection is limited; watching it roll by is like seeing a live cover band that continues to take sub-par requests from the bubbly sorority blondes in the front row. There isn’t enough nigiri, and there are too many deep-fried rolls with too many ingredients.

Unfortunately, those rolls are all the rage in San Diego. For the better part of the summer, Mele and I found ourselves knee-deep in buzz words like “avocado,” “spicy tuna,” “spicy mayo” and “tempura shavings.” I can enjoy a rainbow-dragon-spider roll every once in awhile, but when I crave sushi, I want the simpler pleasures of nigiri or sashimi without San Diego’s novelty prices for rubbery, lean fish. That’s why my recent two week trip to Los Angeles was partially dedicated to my favorite sushi places. After eating at Daichan, I headed to Hide Sushi, one of my LA hamachi-friendly haunts.

There are many Japantowns in the Los Angeles area, each with a different name and a different claim to ethnic authenticity, but my Little Tokyo has always been a certain stretch of Sawtelle Blvd in West LA. If you live on the west side like I did and you want good Japanese food, Sawtelle is probably your best bet, especially for ramen than isn’t Santoka, izakaya, curry and affordable sushi. Both Daichan Kaiten Sushi and Hide Sushi are a rock garden’s throw away.

For the average sashimi loving joe, finding a good sushi place is a constant headache. There is a thin line between trendy or upscale Japanese restaurants with obscene nigiri prices and dedicated sushi houses that cost a little more because the fish tastes a little better. Going out for the good stuff is not cheap, and if I’m going to chopstick over the cash, I’d like to not be entirely ripped off. Even Daichan Kaiten Sushi can get too pricey for the quality of the food if you stay there too long. That’s why, when I’m just looking for some good, raw fish, I like Hide Sushi. It’s a cash-only establishment with no reservations, high traffic and a sashimi dinner for thirteen dollars that includes twelve pieces, miso soup and rice. I’ve rarely seen a better dollar-to-delicious ratio.

The sashimi is fatty and rich, like freshly caught, finned butter that is fished in the Pacific Ocean without any concern for environmental sustainability. Despite its firm texture, the fish is tender enough to be torn to pieces in your mouth using only your tongue. If I’m going to spend ten to fifteen dollars on sushi – which unfortunately for my wallet, is usually the case – I’d prefer this meal with six pieces salmon and six pieces yellowtail. From the standpoint of the sushi chef this might sound a little unadventurous, but salmon sashimi is my comfort food. It’s my Haagen-Dazs ice cream.

That’s where the gluttony comes in. If I’m feeling a little spendy, I might also order some uni or ankimo. Sea urchin roe and monkfish liver are creamier, richer flavors that push the limits of decency, covering the mouth with a film of fatty deliciousness and leaving me walking out of a sushi bar needing some mouthwash. After a summer of that, it’s no wonder Mele and I are sick of sushi. We’ll be back, though, after an extended hiatus. You’ll find us on Sawtelle Blvd next summer.

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This entry was posted on Friday, August 21st, 2009 at 10:55 am and is filed under Los Angeles.