My dilemma is that I didn’t like it. At all.
You know how when you walk into a great Japanese restaurant, the chefs are all ram rod straight, hinging only at the hips, in impeccable whites (or blacks as is more often the case). Even without looking up, they greet you in unison like you are a general and they are your officers. I find at the best places, the chefs remind me of samurais prepared to fall upon their chefs knives in an act of seppuku in the case of sending out a bad roll. (Not really but you get it, right?)
When I step into Nakashita for lunch – I most decidedly do not get that feeling. It’s more like a bunch of guys garbling in Portuguese in a locker room. One guy, the most presentable one, seems to be explaining something to the other two. There is a lot of talking. Too much talking. I kind of want to back out and go somewhere else for lunch but I am spotted and invited to sit down.
We order €70 of food with no alcohol. The edamame (€3.50) are greasy, the seaweed salad (€6) is not dressed – rendering it inedible, the gyozas (€8) are oily and have split to reveal the filling. Everything is served on plastic plates that do a good job of showing up the kitchen’s fingerprints.
We are here to eat sushi, so everything that has transpired so far could be forgiven if the sushi is good. Except it’s not. The Rainbow sushi (€15) looks sloppy. Worse though, the rice is unseasoned, lacklustre with gritty uncooked centres. Terrible stuff. We don’t eat most of it, neither do we take it home.
We ask for the bill and leave, dejected. When I tweet about my disappointing experience, I receive an avalanche of “chalk it up to a bad day” replies, “the place is great!”. The thing is, I am not going back to spend more of my own money to discover if I am wrong and they are right. Next time I’m going to Shunka.
See this and find more addresses on my Foodie in Barcelona Map
Rec Comtal, 5
08003, El Born