The democratisation of the omakase

You’d be forgiven if you thought, as I originally did, that the zoomakase (a portmanteau of ‘zoom’ and ‘omakase’ I first noticed in the Philadelphia Inquirer) is the latest trend to hit the New York City sushi scene. And by ‘zoomakase’ I refer to the proliferation of sushi restaurants offering hour-long experiences for often well under $100. The notion may have seemed absurd merely two years ago, but here we are, in New York City, where the zoomakase is ubiquitous and unavoidable.

But is speeding through a typically two or three-hour affair truly the new norm? As the omakase becomes more commonplace in concept, how are the establishments that are upholding the omakase’s origins as a conversation with the chef doing? That is, a conversation wherein the diner places all trust and decisions with the chef?

The zoomakase, and the democratisation of the omakase and luxury Japanese ingredients associated with it, seem to have stirred several reactionary trends in fine-dining sushi establishments. As totems of Japanese luxury are becoming more accessible through multiple channels, how are long-standing Japanese sushi restaurants in New York staying ahead? I spoke with experts and sushi chefs, both established and fresh on the scene, to find out how the zoomakase can even exist, and how they’re carving out different lanes for the omakase structure in their fine-dining establishments.

^{Coral. Photo by Emily Andrews}

Reaction #1: Tiny hidden omakase counters serving high-end Japanese ingredients

Shinobu Habauchi, Procurement Agent at distributor Samuels Seafood explains, “When Japanese go to sushi restaurants, the conversation you will have with the chef is usually asking them what they recommend, what is fresh that day. But some people’s wallets are getting tighter due to inflation and people also love to enjoy omakase on a friendly wallet.” She emphasises that Stateside, fine dining omakases tend to source all their fish from Japan, put a lot of effort into preparing fish and use top notch ingredients like rice, nori, kombu and vinegar.

Tucked into the back of seafood restaurant Point Seven is a hopelessly stylish 10-seat omakase restaurant, the just-opened Coral, helmed by 15-year Morimoto veteran, Robby Cook. Coral is doing exactly what Habauchi describes as fine-dining sushi of the moment. Cook tells me, “Pretty much everything at Coral comes from Japan’s Toyosu Market.” He helms a 20-some course omakase, served five nights a week, an experience lasting between two and two and a half hours involving extraordinary fish, seaweed and the complete use of all these ingredients (even seaweed scraps are rendered into a precious paste).

^{Robby Cook. Photo by Ohad Kab}

Coral resembles a speakeasy – those concepts tucked into basements, back rooms and fake bookshelves of wildly different restaurants. Where zoomakases tend to exist in dining rooms with slapdash décor, tiny, big budget omakase counters are popping up all over New York, serving almost exclusively high-end Japanese ingredients and hidden in plain sight (or at the back of a restaurant like Point Seven and a market like Okonomi Market).

Restaurants like Coral are having a special moment in New York dining, preserving the form and structure of the omakase, but with a wildly creative (and frequently, non-Japanese) chef in charge.

“Where chefs who used to work in famous French kitchens then strike out on their own, you now have sushi chefs doing the same, adding their own spin and style to their cuisine, like the chefs who opened Nami Nori. It points to the weight of the omakase form and its prestige,” says food critic Mahira Rivers.

^{Fishy treats at Coral. Photo by Ohad Kab}

Reaction #2: Stick to your guns (or knives, rather)

As we live in an age of cheap 60-minute omakases on the Lower East Side, the zoomakase trend hasn’t gone unnoticed in other cities – and it’s difficult to discuss Northeast US sushi trends without speaking with Jesse Ito of Philadelphia’s riotous and moody Royal Izakaya, which contains the serene Royal Sushi hidden in the back (one of the most talked-about omakase speakeasies of the last decade).

“I've seen more and more 60-minute omakases pop up recently. At Royal Sushi and Izakaya, though, we're generally trend averse. We stay focused on sourcing the highest quality ingredients and perfecting our technique. [Sometimes] we'll introduce something new – right now I'm beginning to experiment with fish aging. It isn't a trend, but a new method I'm hoping to introduce to more people in the US,” says Ito.

Technique and sourcing are typically what separates chef-driven omakases from ones that rely on saku blocks of fish (prepared, frozen blocks of fish that make sashimi slice-and-serve) and speedily scratch an omakase itch at a seriously bargain price.

^{Royal Izakaya. Photo by Casey Robinson}

Reaction #3: Going super local

“You’re operating two sushi restaurants in a neighbourhood where you can’t throw a rock without hitting a $60-something omakase place,” I state in conversation with Jeff Miller, whose restaurant Rosella has the reputation of being Manhattan’s only sustainable sushi restaurant – that is, until he opened Bar Miller in October 2023. “If [those] can succeed, then whatever,” sighs Miller. “To me what I love about omakase is the grand nature of it.” The omakase at Bar Miller takes about two hours. “It’s a little journey,” he says. It also costs $250 before beverages. “Saying that number always makes me uncomfortable. It’s so much money,” says Miller, hesitatingly.

Operating two concepts simultaneously makes sense to Miller, as he treats Bar Miller as an experimental extension of Rosella. “Bar Miller is going to be the realm where the food that we’re making evolves more rapidly. Where Bar Miller goes, Rosella will follow. A lot of the dishes on the menu at Rosella – the first iteration was on the omakase menu. You can see how dishes are received and adapt them for a bar menu.”

Sourcing responsibly and locally has only become easier for Miller, who raves about hiramasa from Maine, steelhead trout from the Hudson Valley, and the fact that it’s currently bluefish season. “They’re so rich, fatty, and buttery! If bluefish were available off the coast of Japan, there would be a bluefish celebration every year.” He sources vinegar from Philadelphia, shoyu from Mystic, Connecticut, and rice from Hudson Valley.

^{A bonito dish by Daniel Lee}

Daniel Lee is also sourcing locally at Brooklyn’s Okonomi Market, where he helms a six to eight seat omakase at – you guessed it – the back of the business. “We’re dropping the price from $150 to $125,” Lee tells me, as I furiously check my calendar to see when I can return for the 10-course experience. Lee cuts the majority of fish in-house at Okonomi. This helps him cut down on food costs and pass savings onto his customer base of neighbourhood regulars. He cautions, “A lot of cheap sushi restaurants aren’t breaking down their own fish, scaling it or filleting it themselves. When we get tuna, we get a whole section and put it in a medical-grade freezer, but a lot of places are bringing in saku blocks. They’re spending less money on labour and not bringing in labour-intensive fish.”

“Pre-portioned fish have gotten so popular wholesale, and you can get any bozo who doesn’t know how to break down fish serving sushi,” says Lee. The democratisation of the omakase is nevertheless unrelenting. “Before this year I [had] not been to an omakase and so far, I’ve been to six omakases in 2023,” says Dick Jones, the CEO of Blue Ocean Mariculture, which raises kanpachi in Hawai’i. “I think the big change is approachability.”

^{Jacques Pépin slicing a wagyu katsu sando in New York. Photo by David Chow}

This approachability is mirrored by the Japanese government’s efforts to bolster exports. It’s not restricted to fish. Japan has launched a wagyu campaign in multiple cities, providing butchery education to chefs and hosting celebrations via menus around New York City, high-end and not. Flip Sigi serves wagyu tacos, Cocoron features A5 Curry Ramen, and J-Spec is making a wagyu Philly cheesesteak.

So, skip the zoomakase and go to the speakeasy sushi counters where nary a saku block can be found. If you want to scratch that itch for Japanese luxury, follow the wagyu.