NISHIMURA
8684 Melrose Ave. (San Vicente Blvd.) West Hollywood, CA +1.310.659.4770
Across from the Design Center you'll find a little white house. No sign. Just a wooden fence with a gate. Behind it, a courtyard with a Japanese garden and a little fountain. Follow the path to the door. Open the door and enter a new world.
The minimalist vibe and the mostly whiteness of the interior design isn't just a vibe. And the whiteness isn't just for style. It's symbolic of an ethos. Simple purity. And you'll find nothing but that at Nishimura.
No flash. No hype. No hullaballoo. Just exquisite, simple, beauty.
I love Nishimura.
It's my favorite sushi restaurant in the world. As I write this I literally miss it.
As Claude Debussy noted that the spaces between musical notes were just as important as the notes themselves, Nishimura makes it clear that what is on the plate is also only as important as what is not.
Minimal. Minimal. Minimal. A tissue paper thin slice of hot pepper, one drizzly line of ponzu sauce and literally one three leafed sprig of aromatic herb grace the top of the maguro sashimi.
You pop it into your mouth, start chewing and you find yourself looking at your dining companions and laughing. The taste is so amazing you can't believe it. You only thought you had sushi before. You sit and look at the plate for a while before you eat the next slice. You want to share it. So you do. You watch your friend's faces as they experience what you just did. They save you 3 slices. As you eat them you have mixed feelings about having shared. Then you say, why not. And order another.
The hamachi. The maguro. The clam miso. The Holy Trinity of Nishimura.
Amen.
It's not cheap. But you can wear sneakers and a t-shirt and noboby cares. Plus, when it comes to raw fish, it's probably a good idea to be willing to pay a little extra for something done right with nothing but love.
I miss Nishimura. I'm sad now.
8684 Melrose Ave. (San Vicente Blvd.) West Hollywood, CA +1.310.659.4770
Across from the Design Center you'll find a little white house. No sign. Just a wooden fence with a gate. Behind it, a courtyard with a Japanese garden and a little fountain. Follow the path to the door. Open the door and enter a new world.
The minimalist vibe and the mostly whiteness of the interior design isn't just a vibe. And the whiteness isn't just for style. It's symbolic of an ethos. Simple purity. And you'll find nothing but that at Nishimura.
No flash. No hype. No hullaballoo. Just exquisite, simple, beauty.
I love Nishimura.
It's my favorite sushi restaurant in the world. As I write this I literally miss it.
As Claude Debussy noted that the spaces between musical notes were just as important as the notes themselves, Nishimura makes it clear that what is on the plate is also only as important as what is not.
Minimal. Minimal. Minimal. A tissue paper thin slice of hot pepper, one drizzly line of ponzu sauce and literally one three leafed sprig of aromatic herb grace the top of the maguro sashimi.
You pop it into your mouth, start chewing and you find yourself looking at your dining companions and laughing. The taste is so amazing you can't believe it. You only thought you had sushi before. You sit and look at the plate for a while before you eat the next slice. You want to share it. So you do. You watch your friend's faces as they experience what you just did. They save you 3 slices. As you eat them you have mixed feelings about having shared. Then you say, why not. And order another.
The hamachi. The maguro. The clam miso. The Holy Trinity of Nishimura.
Amen.
It's not cheap. But you can wear sneakers and a t-shirt and noboby cares. Plus, when it comes to raw fish, it's probably a good idea to be willing to pay a little extra for something done right with nothing but love.
I miss Nishimura. I'm sad now.
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