At Ryokou in Adair Park, Leonard Yu Takes Guests On an Omakase Journey of Japan
Omakase in Atlanta is a force, and that’s no small feat, especially for an inland city. Thanks to our unique position as a transport hub, a nexus in a web of international transit routes, we have access to some of the world’s best seafood – part of why Leonard Yu’s award-winning Omakase Table has flourished as it has, serving coveted catches sourced directly from Tokyo’s markets with aplomb.
However, as omakase becomes de rigeuer for special occasions in Atlanta and a part of our dining vernacular, one wonders, how much farther can it go? What other unique takes can be added to make it even more special, or for the luckiest of diners, special again?
This is the question Yu and chef Paul Gutting are answering with Ryokou in Adair Park downtown.
First off, “ryokou” means travel. Your first clue is the whimsical passport visa-style date stamp used to mark the night on the printed menu that’s yours to keep. But the concept of going on a journey is alluded to in many ways, starting with its location. Kasey Cheng, Ryokou’s Director of Operations, tells us this quiet, commercial neighborhood was chosen with intent — to drive Atlantans to a part of the city they may not have visited before.
“We want to be a part of something bigger — developing a community,” he says earnestly. Like the pioneers of Summerhill, he says, “We want to get behind this growth and make a positive impact on the city. To give places chances, people economic opportunities, and draw visitors, even residents who may not have come to this neighborhood, downtown to learn how much more there is to love about Atlanta.”
Beyond that logic, the travel experience continues metaphorically with a menu that takes diners through not only the ingredients and techniques of specific regions of Japan, but also tells Yu’s personal story in a setting even more intimate than Omakase Table. To no more than ten diners at a time, and on only four days a week, he pays homage to the places he’s learned from, traveled to, and the experiences he’s had on his way to becoming the sushi savant he is today.
Here’s a road map of what you can look forward to from a dining experience that’s rapidly becoming known for surprise and delight.
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Water, Earth, Fire, Air.
As we’ve learned with the omakase boom here in Atlanta, the dining format is frequently associated with seafood – typically raw, and in the hands of masters such as Yu (and Jason Liang, his former mentor, of O by Brush), dry-aged to enhance flavor. However, Ryokou is breaking free of Tokyo by making regional culinary traditions, techniques, and ingredients the headliner.
Here, courses play out in a progressive menu of small plates specific to prefectures, even cities, across Japan, taking the diner on a journey over land as well as under sea. This means a significant number of fully cooked dishes, a distinct departure from omakase expectation, where searing might be the most heat treatment a dish will get.
This is by design, Yu says. “With Ryokou, we want to highlight the cooking methods, rather than the aging, as we do with the nigiri at Omakase Table. Our goal is to provide an experience and understanding of food from across Japan.” Expect all elements: earthy, smoked dishes; steam-cooked specialties; rich soups; torched accents; powerful sakes; and obviously, gems of the sea.
This breadth is also reflected in the dinnerware used for service (a major consideration at sushi-yas across Japan), drinks, and the proteins chosen, which encompass, Yu says, “crab, scallops, shellfish, and other seafood from the northern area down to the southern island of Kyushu, which is famous for its wagyu beef.”
At only ten seats, personal touches abound.
The personal touch begins as soon as you make your way to the narrow outdoor passageway between the two industrial buildings that comprise the historic Abrams Fixtures building. With only ten seats available at a time, a server in a sharp black and white suit keeps an eye out for arriving guests, taking the guesswork out of finding the discreet entrance from either side of the “hall.” You’ll pass by a wine club that shares an entrance vestibule with Ryokou’s, and from there, it’s a few short steps to a dramatic counter made of marvelously thick slabs of gorgeous green onyx.
After settling into a luxuriously cushioned seat, there’s a lot to take in. Weathered wooden beams overhead and pendant drop lights give a nod to the industrial roots of the building. Gallery lights illuminate a display wall of rare and special spirits on one side of the dining area, but behind the chefs is exposed brick festooned with sculptural koi floating in swirling patterns. It’s a fittingly relaxed setting for the culinary fireworks that arrive after you’ve settled into your surroundings.
The opener is as memorable as it gets.
Each place is set with the night’s menu and a laser-cut bamboo “placemat” that will soon be covered by the most whimsical tray as the chef prepares the first and most seasonal course: the Zen Garden.
A miniature tray landscape complete with a tiny fence, tiny origami accents and décor elements representing stone, wood, and sand, you’re invited to go ahead and use the bitty rake to get into a relaxing headspace as you enjoy first sips, like the lovely yuzu Old Fashioned or Golden Tea made with sake and sparkles.
Quickly, the tray is filled with the season’s best. This is the most variable course of a menu otherwise broken down into specific categories, and several bites planted in the Zen Garden could include hay-smoked Spanish mackerel with pickled ramps, palate-cleansing umibudo (“caviar of the sea,” as Cheng calls it), and whipped monkfish liver, starting the evening off in luxury. And for fun: a molded flower or teddy bear with a bow tie filled with salmon roe.
After that arrive ingredient or technique-themed courses. For example, a round of nigiri provides a side-by-side study between a trio of toro (tuna belly) cuts to illustrate subtleties (much like Omakase Table offers uni three ways); meanwhile, the Gani crab course does both with Keluga caviar-topped tarabagani chawanmushi – a technical flex.
Dishes respect tradition — but not too much.
“I want Ryokou to be a little more fun — we’re still traditional, but not that traditional,” Yu says. For that reason, global influences as well as cooked dishes play a more starring role.
A Yaki Sana (grilled) course focuses on binchotan cookery, with smoky maitake bringing salt-cured mackerel down to earth, brightened with key lime and onion cold-shocked to offer light, allium sweetness without bite. The sukiyaki course features A5 Miyazaki spinalis with green onion, salmon eggs for a juicy pop, shimeji poached in wagyu fat and sukiyaki sauce, quail egg for mixing with Koshihikari rice, and the option to upgrade with shaved Piedmont black winter truffle.
This isn’t the only nod to Yu’s background in Italian cuisine, where he started his culinary career. The kegani miso capellini is a tribute to this part of his personal history, featuring horsehair crab from Hokkaido, Japanese salt-cured egg, and Italian bronze-cut pasta.
Expect more than you pay for.
The formal offer is eight courses and dessert for $205 per person, but that course count is bad math that favors the diner. With one add-on course option exercised, a total tally for individual dishes and bites can number far more, as “courses” may be split into individual platings.
Moreover, a beverage pairing with dessert is complimentary — a “surprise and delight” moment as Cheng emphasizes is growing ever more important as “Atlanta is ready for a bigger vibe; for omakase to go beyond sourcing and gourmet ingredients to be a whole experience where service is very personal and allergies are not an obstacle, but an opportunity to invent,” he says.
Ryokou is taking hospitality the extra mile, not just in terms of geographic influence on their menu, but to show “genuine love in every detail, and appreciation for our guests and where they are coming from,” Cheng explains. “Their willingness to take the time to travel here, invest in the experience…we want to be the place where you feel like the team is waving at you as you’re driving away.”
Su-Jit Lin is a rehabilitated New Yorker, former New Orleanian, and current Atlantan, in addition to being a travel, food, and lifestyle writer. She has contributed to EatingWell, HuffPost, Epicurious, The Takeout, Eater, The Kitchn, VinePair, Thrillist, Food & Wine, Serious Eats, Southern Living, and more. Follow her on Instagram. Follow Resy, too.
