Misso Accomplished

Bruce Kim takes his suburban sushi act to the big city.

by Elisa Ludwig

Michael T. Regan E.T.T. — the extra-tasty terrestrial: Misso's Area 51 roll — yellowtail, asparagus, avocado and kiwi — is a close encounter of the yum kind. (CLICK IMAGE FOR LARGER VERSION)

On the ground level of the Center City One tower, Misso is an ordinary-looking sushi restaurant that recently replaced another (short-lived) sushi restaurant called Miraku. Around the time of its opening, there were rumors that the owners would install a newfangled video touch-screen ordering system. (So long, stubby golf pencils!)

So far, though, there's nothing here but an old-fashioned menu. No conveyor belts, no boats, no robot waiters — none of the high-tech gimmickry that sushi-serving so often seems to inspire. In fact, Bruce Kim, who previously owned Blue Bell's Sushikazu, has done little to change the décor the previous tenants left behind. It's sleek and clean, if a little uninspired: burnished wood-paneled walls and hardwood flooring, Meyer lemon-tinted walls, numerous flat-screen TVs and a glassed-in bar behind which Saran-wrapped slabs of fish await their ritual carving.

See, the real draw in Philly, land of the fair-to-middling maki, isn't disco lights or geisha-dressed servers: It's serving the kind of fish on rice your customers will think about two days after eating it. And to that end, Kim has brought the cooking (or the lack thereof) from his original restaurant.

Like Sushikazu, Misso's offerings aren't groundbreaking. The emphasis is on traditional items with a bit of improvisation — nothing you won't find at most of Center City's myriad sushi restaurants. Ultimately, it's all about Misso's execution — tightly rolled maki, samurai-quality slicing and perfectly formed pads of lightly vinegared rice that feature the barely detectable scent of lemon.

The fish is almost uniformly fresh and buttery: salmon, fluke and tuna sashimi are perfect glassy rectangles offering unctuous reward. A piece of milky, purple-edged octopus sashimi has a pleasant resistance. A silvery pink slab of Suzuki (striped bass) is yielding and tender, with a faint whiff of the ocean. Pearly uncooked shrimp, split down the center, are as sweet and mild as you could hope for, the creamy shellfish almost melting out of its tail-end shell.

Misso rolls include some of the greatest hits from Sushikazu, like the Area 51 roll, where slightly chewy yellowtail is folded over asparagus, avocado and sour little bites of kiwi. The spicy scallop roll has a cool, almost liquidy center of chopped beads of raw scallop, contrasting with a warming smack of spiciness. The Misso classic roll is a nori-bound cylinder of broiled eel, crunchy cucumber and creamy avocado crowned with a golden coating of shrimp tempura. Simpler maki, like a yellowtail roll with scallion or another stuffed with smoky natto (fermented soybeans), are minimal but satisfyingly flavorful.

But the pièce de résistance, the masterwork — the reason to visit, even — is the tuna ball. An orb of pink, fleshy, finely chopped tuna tartare obscures hidden bits of crisped flour, minced scallion and a judiciously applied smidgen of a spicy sauce (though sometimes the sushi chef uses wasabi). It's rolled in vibrant orange masago and dusted with green flakes of shiso, each ball offering a spectrum of textures and flavors — crisp, soft, spicy, briny, vaguely oniony.

An order includes five balls (at Sushikazu you'd get six, but we can forgive this oversight) placed over a spaghetti-like tangle of daikon that absorbs the masago glow. Its naked presence, when the tuna is gone, will likely have you going for another round.

On the warmer side, there's an excellent nasuno dengaku, a cross section of eggplant broiled in its skin and lacquered with a thick, sweet miso glaze speckled with toasted sesame seeds. A light, clear soup beckons with pleated half-moon shumai stuffed with pork and onion; the broth swirls with ribbons of egg, threads of carrot and scrawls of black seaweed and scallion. The kiniko, brimming with scallops, shrimp, broccoli and a bubbling uppermost layer of cheese, sounds and looks like a mom-made casserole. It is tasty and homey indeed.

Entrées include the usual list of traditional selections: katsu-don, teriyaki, donburi. (They're a good value, considering the accompanying seaweed salad, cold tofu, miso soup and green salad.) Whole shrimp, yam discs, green beans and asparagus pencils are wrapped in a tempura blanket so airy and delicate that it almost seems like a naturally occurring layer. The beef negimaki, thin slices of meat rolled with scallions and doused in teriyaki, is, by contrast, overly tough.

If you're the sort that insists on dessert, Misso obliges with tempura-coated slices of fried banana drizzled with chocolate sauce or lavish ice cream embedded with chewy chunks of crystallized ginger and served with pineapple slices. Or you can opt for the complimentary orange wedges. Me? I'll take another order of tuna balls.

(e_ludwig@citypaper.net)

Misso

1326 Spruce St., 215-546-2355 missosushi.com

Hours: Mon.-Thu., 11:30 a.m.-2:30 p.m.; 4:30-10 p.m.; Fri.-Sat., 11:30 a.m.-2:30 p.m.; 4:30-11 p.m.; Sun., 5-9 p.m.

Appetizers, $4.95-$7.95; Entrées, $12.95-$24.95

BYOB.