It involves you, a date and about 20 strangers. Also: a stingray.
So things are already a little tight.
But with that in mind, we present Masaki Sushi, an almost impossibly small Streeterville spot for intimate encounters involving aged Japanese whiskey and the sea’s most delicious creatures, now open.
With just 22 seats, this place is really microscopic—it’s actually taller than it is wide. Basically, it’s the dimensions of a really big, really elegant freight elevator—one with zebrawood, Italian marble, 80 or so sakes and three very serious-looking sushi chefs at your beck and call, plus hostesses wearing silk kimonos. You know, that kind of elevator.
After relaxing with a gin-spiked Melon Baller—or better yet, a Suntory 12-year—just put yourself in the hands of the chef. You’ll choose a three-, five- or seven- course omakase-style tasting menu.
Then, after a night of popping whole tiny crabs in your mouth and eating stingray, salmon belly and Wagyu, you may suspect the chef isn’t from around here. You’ll be right. He’s Italian-born Mauro Mafrici of Pelago, who decided to turn his culinary skills to Asian cuisine.
Those green-tea noodles were a dead giveaway.