An epically long procession of jewel-like courses at an omakase counter as serene as a Zen altar scratches a certain itch once in a while. A whiz-bang sushi dinner laden with wagyu, caviar, and edible gold at restaurants like Nobu or Zuma hits the spot on occasion. But usually, I don’t need sushi as sacrament or sushi as spectacle. I just want my fix of raw fish, vinegared rice, and sake. Quick, delicious, and filling—the type of dinner Momoya does with aplomb.
Raw Fish, Bubbles, and SoHo Glitz
Momoya has three Manhattan locations, but its two-story SoHo outpost is the showpiece. Raw fish takes center stage, while Japanese comfort foods like tempura, karaage chicken, and crispy rice play supporting roles. The menu has a Francophilic inflection—as if an elite sushi chef fell in love in Paris. The Champagne list dazzles, while desserts like coupe glacée and mille-feuille would be right at home down the street at Balthazar.
I last dined there on a rainy summer evening with my girlfriend after a Sunday spent lollygagging around Manhattan. We sat at the long marble counter, close enough to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Prince Street to listen to the downpour. I’d had nothing but coffee all day and watched with mounting appetite as a sushi chef composed a color wheel of silky fish on a wooden pedestal.
Giddy from the glamour of SoHo, we ordered glasses of Gosset, the oldest house in Champagne. Next came lobster spring rolls, toro tartare with truffles, and miso-glazed nasu—petite Japanese eggplants. The sommelier picked out another Champagne before the Momoya Box arrived—a riot of assorted raw fish, yuzu, ponzu, and shiso leaves served in tiny lacquered bowls on a wooden tray.
Euphoric on bubbles and omega-3s, we watched the chef assemble one of the most theatrical desserts in the city. The Ohanami, an homage to cherry blossom viewing, looks like something an ikebana arranger dreamed up with the Sugar Plum Fairy. A tower of ice cream, berries, mochi, cheesecake, tuile, foams, and jellies, it has so many components it comes with a diagram to keep track of what you’re eating—an edible scavenger hunt. By the time we scooped up the last bite of sakura jelly, the rain had stopped, and we walked out into a freshly washed late-summer evening.
