Letter of Recommendation Los Angeles
Sushi Takeda Is My Favorite Omakase in L.A. For Lunch
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In Los Angeles, lunch is an art: a land of sculpted salads, luxury hot bars, and obscenely priced smoothies that sit among tacos adored by critics, hot chicken sandwiches, and other foods ideal for eating at your desk. They’re all great options. I love those lunches. But I’d rather get sushi.
In pursuit of a higher form of lunch, I drift naturally towards Weller Court’s third floor. Here, at his eponymous eight-seat counter in Little Tokyo, chef-owner Hideyuki “Hide” Takeda offers one of L.A.’s best lunch specials. This is my favorite omakase spot in Los Angeles, although I ought to be more specific: for $110 on Tuesday through Thursdays, and $120 on Fridays and weekends, Sushi Takeda offers my favorite omakase lunch, ideal for consuming solo.
The appeal of an omakase lunch is simple. Math. I’m terrible at it, but even I can appreciate the beauty of a good deal. At serious sushi counters, a lunch omakase functions as something of a “dinner-lite.” It’s the same chef, serving the same high-quality fish you’ll find in the evening, but at a fraction of the cost (Takeada’s omakase dinners run $300 per person). In exchange for the ritual of dinner and its leisurely pleasantries, a lunch omakase offers a window into what you can expect at night, at a much lower price point.
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Sushi Takeda’s equivalent of Elena Rybakina’s two coolly raised fists upon winning the U.S. Open is a confident, unpretentious approach to sushi. Takeda’s restaurant is not a temple of maximalist luxury, or a place to find theatrics during lunch. An enormous amount of culinary restraint is the appeal, which feels something like mercy in a town positioned around wanting more, faster, better, stronger (and other Daft Punk lyrics).
A pleasurably sedative current runs through Sushi Takeda, a peripheral melody of knife work, murmured conversations, and the odd “thank you,” accompanied by outstretched hands. Tradition, simplicity, and a commitment to craftsmanship make a home in the narrow space, and guests take their seats at a long, handsome wooden bar directly opposite chef Takeda. To dine here is an introvert’s fantasy, and listening to the room’s ambient soundscape offers a lovely break for my dopamine-scrambled nervous system. It’s exceptional dining without any of the suffocating, portentous preening that often accompanies a restaurant bearing its chef’s surname.
Born in Kobe, Japan, Takeda’s pedigree includes a stint at West Hollywood’s Jinpachi before he joined Sushi Tsujita on Sawtelle as head chef. Earlier this year, he opened a more casual counterpart to Sushi Takeda in West L.A., called Utamaro Sushi Izakaya. But Sushi Takeda is where you will find him turning out pristine omakase after pristine omakase, during both lunch and dinner.
To dine here is an introvert’s fantasy, and listening to the room’s ambient soundscape offers a lovely break for my dopamine-scrambled nervous system.
Behind the counter, Takeda flexes his skills, turning fish flown in from Tokyo’s Toyosu Market into Edomae-style sushi. Pristine sourcing is essential for this discipline, as is technique. Each piece of fish is individually treated — aged, cured, marinated, salted, simmered, soaked in vinegar — according to its species, with the goal being to maximize its flavor. The ideal result is not a “more cured” fish, but one that allows the fish to taste like its best self.
The procession begins: bluefin tuna arrives glossy and garnet-like. Squid places Takeda’s knife skills on full display, as he scores a legion of finely etched crosshatches into its surface, softening its natural chew. There is also gizzard shad, with its handsome silver skin, and nodoguro, a personal favorite — lush and fat, the blackthroat seaperch reaches the table lightly torched, and tastes smoky, almost buttery. Halfway through the meal, the sardine iwashi maki arrives: a bundle of fresh ginger, shiso, and toasted sesame binds to the fish then is rolled tight, and sheathed within a sheet of daikon shaved nearly to transparency. It is the perfect bite, salty and brushed just so with sweetness.
Dining here is a straightforward experience, at least during lunch. Meals last about 90 minutes, and include 12 pieces of nigiri, plus a handful of small items. Aim for an 11:30 a.m. reservation, and plan to get there even earlier. (That first slot ensures a seat at the counter, rather than one at a random table.) At the time of booking, you will put down a $60 deposit, meaning that on the day, you’ll pay another $60, plus drinks. And it’s worth budgeting out a bit extra: Sushi Takeda offers an impressive list of hot and cold sakes, as well as imported Japanese beers, and three types of green tea — matcha, iced; roasted hojicha; decaf.
Of course, a grandiose sushi meal has its charms: the tangerine-hued walls of Go’s Mart in the Valley imbue the diner with a sort of hypnotic quality I find totally pleasurable. Morihiro in Victor Heights is a creative whirlwind of very specific rice, ceramics thrown and glazed by the chef himself, and fanciful appetizers and desserts. In Beverly Hills, Hilo Omakase’s chef Mahenola captivates guests with a brand of showmanship usually reserved for places like the Magic Castle. However, there is something beautiful about Takeda’s simple, often intimate experience of omakase: a convoy of seasonal Japanese dishes that expands beyond nigiri, served in a setting so serene, your mere presence at the sushi counter can feel like a form of self-care.
L.A.’s omakase scene can often feel intimidating. Hard to crack, if you’re feeling generous, cultish, if you’re not. I am often put off by the expectation to perform wealth or insider status prevalent at many high-end sushi places. If securing a spot at a restaurant requires any sort of “hack,” you won’t see me there. I am an Aries, and am extremely prone to fits of frustration, giving up, and impatience, especially when faced with something as banal as booking a lunch reservation.
But at Sushi Takeda, such thoughts fail to reach me. It’s a nice thing to do, booking a lovely little lunch for yourself every once in a while. There’s nothing that brings me more peace than lugging along whatever book I’m reading, pulling up for a reservation and sipping my green tea, while thinking about how nice it is to sit here, by myself, at a lunch that financially amounts to around four months of an AMC A-List subscription. Some people book spa appointments to unwind; others treat themselves to vacations or designer clothing or the full versions of iPhone games. In an ideal world, I’d be able to afford all of the above. But in the meantime, I’m choosing Sushi Takeda.
Kat Hong is a food writer living in Los Angeles. Follow her on Instagram or check out her very professional website. While you’re at it, follow Resy, too.
