Coming here for a meal is to step away- step entirely away- from the casual (and more visible) Japanese franchise eateries dotted all over town.
I've probably made mention before that I sometimes get a bit unnerved by formal, heavy interiors of (some) bars and (some) izakayas.
Mitsu Sushi Bar, located over two floors of a shophouse somewhere on Duxton Road near to the Neil Road side, is, however, one of those places that combines the best of formal, casual, traditional and modern.
It is a place meant for after work drinks and business entertainment where one can meet up with a friend (who works nearby) for a drink at the bar downstairs, or have a dinner with business associates in the dining area upstairs.
It is possible to think of colleagues or friends sitting side by side at the bar downstairs.
It is also possible to think of the same colleagues having a work dinner at the table upstairs.
I'm pretty sure there have been deals talked about (and hopefully closed) in the dining area.
Because the environment of Mitsu Sushi Bar permits so.
We had an early reservation for this evening that we were there.
They were expecting us- almost as soon as we stepped through the doors they led us upstairs.
I'd have loved to get a table right by the window but that table was a six seater or had been reserved- something- and so we were given a table close to the window, but not directly beside.
The space of Mitsu has been planned out in a very specific sort of way.
I don't know the technical words for it, but shall we say that it offers a bit of discretion whilst not being extremely discreet?
If it sounds like an oxymoron, well, it is, but not exactly.
Because whilst from my seat I could look out the window to Duxton Hill below, I could not see who my fellow diners were even if they were right next to me at the table beside.
The little curtains helped.
The music, too.
You found yourself focusing on your food without any urge to turn left or right.
Much of my attention during the meal was on my meal, except for the rare times when I found myself staring at the work of art hanging on the wall above my companion's head in front of me.
It was a very enjoyable meal we had- probably one of the slowest we've had in a long while.
There was an order of wagyu.
Soft and tender, with a hint of smoky taste on the outside, the dish came served with a little heap of crispy fried garlic which excited my companion so much we asked for more.
One thing I particularly liked about this (grilled?) filet was how it had been cut up into elongated strips, making it easy for us to pick with our chopsticks, and chew.
It let us savor our food in a very slow, zen-like sort of way.
You know, it was something I deeply appreciated.
Too often in life we find ourselves rushing through our meals in a functional, "lets get this over and done with" sort of way that we don't stop and savor what it is we're actually eating, what it is we're actually doing.
The meal at Mitsu let me do this in a very natural, non-obtrusive kind of way.
It's like we got to nibble on the meat of the tonkatsu without having to chomp through layers of breaded batter, and, like the wagyu, had been sliced into narrow thin strips which my companion and I easily divided out and ate.
We were especially delighted by just how skillfully this cutlet had been prepared.
Many chains tend to do their tonkotsu big, which gives great value to the consumer, but then the cutlet oft ends up to be either very dry and hard, or if not, tender but with soggy batter.
There was none of that here.
The cutlet wasn't very big, but it was done in such a way that there was no taste of oil, the meat was tender and the batter, delicate and crisp on the outside, kept the pork gently warmed on the inside.
I must not be very good with my chopsticks however.
Somehow, despite my best efforts, the batter and the meat kept falling apart.
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I would have loved it had we been able to order another piece- one really wasn't enough- but then this don arrived on our table, together with the maki below.
Okay, this is a little embarrassing, but I don't quite remember precisely what kind of don it was that we got.
I think we might have gotten salmon.
Or maybe, salmon belly.
I'm afraid I don't particularly remember- because what charmed me most about this little square box of don was not the mains on top of it, but the bed of rice itself.
Mind, it wasn't anything special- I mean, it was just rice- but then I had a most fun time picking up grain after grain after grain with my chopsticks- all the while thinking through a (difficult) question which required a (as well as can be thought out) answer.
Maybe that's what zen-style eating does to you.
It calms you down.
Helps you think better.
I don't know how many of the salmon belly slices I took- maybe two, maybe three- but then mindfulness had flown out the window and I was a bit distracted in that way.
Fortunately enough, the chili soft shell crab maki I remember slightly better.
The chili crab taste wasn't very, very strong- oh no- Mitsu's style is elegant that way- but I could taste the flavors of Singapore's chili crab gravy, where it blended so well with the soft shell crab within the folds of the rice that each bite made me feel like I were eating a full dish of crab- in precise, carefully calibrated, single bite size.
Honestly, I'm now trying to remember whether or not that dribble of orange-colored sauce below is Mentaiko or chili crab.
I think it's Mentaiko- because both of us were commenting on how surprising it was (yes, we like Mentaiko) whilst trying to swirl it all up with our chopsticks, not wanting any part of this beautifully plated dish to go to waste. :)