After all these years, sushi stalwart still satisfies
Tokio is a Japanese restaurant in the Powisle district, an area of the capital down near the river that I rarely pass through. It's worth a detour, though, especially if you get a craving for sushi. But overall this long-established fixture on the Warsaw dining scene has been eclipsed by its younger, more fabulous cross-town rival Inaba.
Tokio was already an old timer when former WBJ reviewer Vinny Tokaj reviewed it three years ago. It's still popular, even getting a mention in a recent edition of the New York Times as one of Warsaw's "trendiest restaurants." That staying power alone says something about Tokio's successful formula.
When Vinny visited, he found Tokio's sushi bar to be "an enjoyable place to sit, chat and fill up on raw fish, without burning a hole in your pocket." I took this advice, reserving two seats at the sushi bar for me and the Exile for a recent Friday night.
I arrived a little late and found the Exile already seated at the bar, sipping some green tea. "I've been looking forward to this all week," he said. A self-proclaimed sushi aficionado, he was eager to see how Tokio stacked up. I'm much less experienced in things sushi, but I've had it enough times to know what I like. I was just curious to see if a 7-year-old restaurant could still live up to its wide reputation.
I left my coat with the gentleman in the closet and found my own way to the bar, as both of the servers I saw were apparently too busy to seat me. It was a rushed attitude we experienced throughout the evening. It did seem that people sitting at tables were paid more attention, as well, so maybe they expect people sitting at the bar to take care of themselves.
I would have appreciated some help, however, in wading through the long, complex menu. As a bit of a novice when it comes to Japanese food, I could have used some expert advice. When Vinny visited, he was lucky enough to sit next to an elderly Japanese gentleman who guided him through the menu and recommended things. Me and the Exile, however, were on our own.
"Let's just get a variety of sushi," I said, closing the menu. I'd done a bit of "research" beforehand, visiting a few sushi web pages. They all recommended that I chat with the sushi chef and let the master himself choose the day's best selection. But the two sushi chefs on duty the night we went were not the chatty type. They didn't even talk with each other it was all serious stares and dexterous knife work. Ah, but the art of charisma also has a place at the bar and the atmosphere would be much improved with a dash of the same.
The Exile recommended we start with the miso soup (zl. 14). This was served in traditional wooden bowls, piping hot and smelling deliciously of the seaweed and fermented soybean broth. But before we could taste it, I wondered where my spoon was. "Are we just supposed to drink it?" I asked the Exile. "I guess so " he responded, none too confidently. We glanced down the bar and around the room for any clues as to how to eat this, but no one else was having soup. I caught one of the sushi chef's eyes and mimed bringing the bowl to my lips, signaling "like this?" He shook his head vigorously to say "yes," so we started slurping. This is a delicate, subtle vegetable broth loaded with green kelp and chunks of "miso" tofu.
As we finished the soups, the waiter dropped off a kettle of green tea and the two small carafs of sake we had ordered (zl. 16). We'd asked for the sake warm, and poured it steaming into the diminutive ceramic cups. The carafs were larger than either of us had expected. "We're going to get rocked," the Exile exclaimed. But the rice wine was not strongly alcoholic, we found, and after the soup, provided nothing more than a nice, warming buzz.
Finally, the last course arrived: we each had a wooden platter topped with eight pieces of sushi (zl. 66). We'd gone with the sampler platter, which had one each of the following: yellow tail, prawn, tuna and salmon. There were also a few "California rolls," rice stuffed with avocado and crab and rolled into a tight seaweed cylinder. We dipped each into our shallow bowls of soy sauce, careful to flip them over fish-side first into the sauce, so as not to get the sticky rice wet and cause the whole creation to fall apart. We both agreed with Vinny that the tuna was the best, and I also liked the yellowtail. The Exile found, however, that the pieces were smaller than what he's had in other restaurants.
Eight pieces of sushi filled neither of us, and if money were no object we could have easily polished off at least another four each. But they say with sushi, it's the quality, not the quantity that counts. Our meal came to zl. 183 ($43.57) not including tip.
