toro toro toro

Every year when I go back to Yotsuba, I go in fear that maybe, somehow, it's fallen from the pinnacle of sushi awesomeness it currently resides on. Each year, I invariably cross over the quiet shop-front, see the lone sushi maestro busying away at the sushi bar and breathe contentment.

Today I made my long-anticipated first visit of the summer. Yotsuba has been famous for a while in Beijing for serving up the city's most authentic sushi (you will nay find a California roll here) in a cosy (read: small) environment. It only opens for dinner and only serves perfectly alliterated sushi, sashimi and sake. (Venture elsewhere for your udon/tempura fix). The word on the street is that the fish is flown in daily from the Tsukiji market in Tokyo. I've never verified this for fact - the great sushi master does not speak Chinese, which I take as a good sign - but their fish certainly tastes as if this might be true.

crab miso soup

my favourite otoro glistening in the middle, next to a wonderful sweet egg omelette

grilled sea-eel brushed with sweet soy sauce

Sitting at the sushi bar instead of the more private tatami rooms is preferable as it's actually quite mesmerising to see all the sushi being crafted. A deft slice, a clap, a dab of vinegar water, a clump of rice, squeeze, squeeze, and hello, my beautiful otoro. Really, the maestro makes it look so easy.