The simplest of food can be the most profound. Without the trappings of sauces and infusions, the ingredients must stand naked and exposed, with nothing on which to rely but their honest quality.
Kuni's is full of ghosts for me. This same room in the heart of the Elmwood Village once housed the restaurant at which I was chef and manager for 3 1/2 years when I was working my way through college. The memories flood back, but quickly fade with the anticipation of the meal to come.
Kuni is a quiet man, but when the door opens, he flashes a smile and greets his guests, barely 5 feet away in his tiny temple. This is the charm of Kuni. Many here are regulars, but at the end of your first visit, you feel like one too.
"So, do you like sushi?" This question is a social litmus test for me. Most people say no, and I terminate the conversation quickly. But sometimes, I get a nod of uncertain acknowledgement and I know I have another novitiate.
Kuni's is not a big place; 10 seats at the bar and maybe another 14 at the tables, which are prized by those who line up at 5pm. In summer it expands by 4 tables on the outside patio and is perfect for people-watching and for people watching you, enviously, as they ogle your grilled eel and salad of tuna, tofu and avocado. It is not a place for the claustrophobic, but it is a place for social intimacy. Elbow to elbow with your fellow diners, you can share your favorites.
"Have you tried the squid rings in teriyaki?"
"The tsukune was so good tonight - the sesame glaze on the chicken was a-MA-zing!"
"The enoki mushrooms and wakame in the miso soup was so refreshing..."
Confused? Be glad that you are dining with me tonight, then!
We'll have an order of the toro - the fatty belly meat of the tuna and one of the most expensive cuts. It melts on your tongue and your doubts waver. We also have the mackerel smoked by Fat Bob's Barbeque - a little oily, but a familar American taste that you never knew would translate so well!
Since you are a neophyte, sushi - beautiful, meaty pieces of fish laid atop perfectly seasoned rice with vinegar and wasabi. Tuna, yellowtail, salmon and shrimp are perfect for the uninitiated. Dip the pieces in a small dish of soy mixed with wasabi (green horseradish) and understand the sublime majesty of the simplest of foods. No rich sauces, no roasting or braising necessary.
I'll have the chef's combo of sashimi - no rice, just slabs of fish and perhaps mushroom, egg or roe of Kuni's choosing. He know what is best, and so I trust his instinct to guide my palate.
You'll learn to trust Kuni, too. In this temple, if he is not a god, he is surely an angel.