Over the last year or so, the omakase menu has found its way onto the Buenos Aires sushi dining scene. Not that there were never omakase menus before, for the first decade I was here, we would go to Yuki, the first, and longest running sushi bar in the city, which unfortunately closed in 2016. And we have the now long running spot, Omakase Masuda (formerly Club M), which leans creative, and caters to Argentine tastes, with cream cheese and sweet flavors, though if you like that style, it’s spectacular. But most places that offer an omakase are really just offering a day’s selection of 10-15 pieces of nigiri, with perhaps a few pieces of maki thrown in, all presented together on a single plate. And that’s not just when offering delivery, but in person, as well, such as at Nare or Mirutaki.

What’s been missing over the years at most places is the whole experience of watching the sushi chef make each piece, and then place it in front of you, explaining what’s being offered, and often why. Instead you just get a tabla, an array, of mixed pieces, often from a waiter who barely knows what each fish is, let alone what’s special about their individual preparations. So, now that there are places purporting to offer that more traditional experience, it’s incumbent on me to check them out, no?

There’s a new traditional Japanese restaurant in town that I haven’t gotten to, but a friend who’s been says is quite good, Emperador Meiji, and it’s on the list to check out, probably with the Horde one of these coming weeks. They also, more recently, launched a speakeasy style sushi bar, Mutsuhito Omakase, Honduras 5908, Palermo, on the upper floor of the building, that has to be entered using an individual code that you receive when making a reservation. The security lock seems to have issues – I tried my code half a dozen times to get it to open, and that was even with the help of one of the waiters from the downstairs space. Bizarrely, he wasn’t able to override the security lock and just let me in (and even though they have a doorbell, they won’t come downstairs and let you in) – a little frustrating of a start to things. And it happened to other people who came in after me, so it’s something they need to fix.

But, once inside, and past that horrendously red-lit, steep, two story staircase, I love the space. It’s a gorgeous U-shaped bar around the sushi kitchen, manned by a trio of chefs. Limited to a dozen patrons at a time, with two seatings a night. The welcome was warm and attentive. The beverage selection is limited, and given that that’s the only thing you have a say in, it would be nice if it was… less limited. Just a few wines available by the bottle only. Sake is available, but only one was a dry sake, the others being fruit infused, sweet, sparkling ones, in small bottles. And that dry sake is in a large bottle, and only available by the cup, at a steep 1050 pesos each (for a relatively small cup). It’d be nice if they had a good dry sake available in small bottle, and maybe more than one?

I’ve picked out just a few of my favorites from the evening (along with the cover photo). The omakase consists of a whopping 18 plates, all raw preparations of sashimi or sushi except for one soup and the dessert. Each one was something I want to eat again, there wasn’t a single misstep. And it’s clear that the staff, both the chefs and waitstaff, are passionate about what they do. The presentations are beautiful, the flavors are traditional with creative touches. This isn’t fusion sushi. It’s very Japanese in style, and introduces classic ingredients. I like that they use a slightly more unusual rice, Koshihikari, and that they flavor it with an aged black vinegar rather than a basic white rice vinegar. And all this for a mere 7800 pesos (around $60 official, $28 blue as of this week). Easily, even with just one visit, moving to one of my favorite sushi experiences in the city.

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So, the next week, it was off to another omakase experience, Uni Omakase, Guatemala 5820, Palermo, that I’d seen and followed their Instagram, and everything looked very traditionally Japanese, and that was also something they touted. Happy expectations abound! It has a cool look from the outside. If I have it down right, on weeknights they have one seating, at 8:30, with about a 2½ run-time. On weekend nights I think they have two seatings, at 7:30 and 10:30. Now, I, and a couple of other people, arrived on-time, at about 8:22. We were let into the front door by a waitress, which put us in that small space just inside the window. We were asked to wait “a minute” and we’d be seated. We waited until precisely 8:30, as we could see through the gaps in the wall, that the chefs and waitstaff were constantly checking their watches. Come on, you’re ready for service, don’t make people stand around in an unheated (it’s still winter here, though verging on spring), crowded (as more people arrived) room.

In typical Argentine fashion, by the way, while five of us were on time, the other six who were reserved showed up between 15 minutes and an hour into the actual omakase, clearly not getting the concept of “you have to be on time for this”. I was surprised that they not only let people in, but restarted the whole omakase series just for them – though I guess at the price they’re charging, 12,000 pesos ($92 official, $41 blue), they may feel like they have to. The menu includes a “sake pairing”, which I was particularly looking forward to.

Jumping ahead, however, that turns out to be three of the tiniest sake cups I’ve encountered over the years, and two of them were fruit flavored, sweet, sparkling sakes, only one was a semi-dry one of any reasonable quality. And you can’t order any other sake or soju, despite that they have a display of them – which, on closer examination are all sealed, full bottles, or completely empty ones – clearly just for display. They have a short wine list, again, only by the bottle, and a daily cocktail list of two sake based cocktails, neither of which sounded interesting. So other than politely tasting the two soda-pop sakes, I had one tiny cup of sake with my meal. That didn’t sit well.

There’s a whole air of inhospitality during the entire meal, from the sushi chef to the waitstaff, it’s like they’re putting on a show, and you’re expected to appreciate that they’re doing so. From that odd wait time at the beginning on through the rest of the meal. Plates are snatched away from in front of you as soon as you pick up whatever’s on them, even while it’s still enroute via chopstick to your mouth. At one point the sushi chef in front of us (there are basically two, each attending to half the sushi bar, so six patrons apiece), was about to smoke something using a mini-smoker and a glass bell, and he dramatically demanded that everyone get out their phones and video him smoking these pieces of fish, “something you’ve never seen in a sushi bar before!”. Yes, yes I have. And I don’t need you to stand in front of me waiting and glaring when I don’t video your show.

At the end of the meal, while still eating the dessert course and sipping on the tea, he came around to each person, asked if they planned to order any further beverages, and if the answer was no, slapped down a check in front of us. While we’re still eating.

Again, some selected dishes from the evening. I guess I could say they were my favorite courses out of this menu, but honestly, that’s not saying much. There’s an overuse of smoking and torching of things – out of a dozen plates (2/3 of what the previous menu offered), only half of them are raw fish, and two of those are smoked, and one torched lightly, while the rest are either cooked fish or shellfish, or not fish at all. And, at place named “Uni”, they offer none. The rice, also flavored with black vinegar as the previous spot, is overcooked and gummy. Nothing was inedible (though the mini-ramen came close), but nothing was exciting or even more than casually interesting. I imagine that was at least partially influenced by the atmosphere of the place as noted above, I can’t say I was predisposed to enjoy the food by that point, and it got steadily worse as the evening wore on. As I texted to a friend, “I can’t remember the last time I just wanted an omakase menu to end.” And as I was leaving, my thought was, I wouldn’t come back here if the meal was free. For me, this places was pretty much literally, smoke and mirrors.