Ushigoro S

It rained the whole afternoon I spent at Ushigoro S, and I cannot now imagine eating there in any other weather.

The room is exactly what you want it to be: Nishiazabu speakeasy with binchotan smoke. We were seated near the back, given menus we hardly needed, and brought a small bowl of olives without being asked.

We started with a small dish of marinated white anchovies, which set the tone — generous, unfussy, and confident enough not to crowd what was coming. With it we ordered a Chianti Classico Riserva I wrote down in my notebook, and were glad of both.

Then the main event: sirloin sushi, the dish that puts Ushigoro S on every short list. It was, frankly, the best version of this cut I have had this year. The signature touch — the eight-course wagyu omakase — is not a gimmick; it is the reason to come.

For sides we asked for wild mushrooms in butter and potato gratin with a dark crust. Both arrived hot, both arrived early, both were exactly large enough to overdo it. We overdid it.

Dessert was crème brûlée with a proper glass crust, mostly because the waiter raised an eyebrow when we hesitated. He was right to.

Some places earn their reputation. Ushigoro S earns it twice over.