Sushi Bon

A few minutes from Shinjuku-gyoemmae Station in Tokyo, Japan, Sushi Bon keeps its distance from the district's neon. Edomae sushi began in this city as food shaped by curing, marinating, and patience, and that lineage is carried forward here in a room built for only six guests. The setting is modern and spare. An L-shaped counter cut from a single slab of ginkgo anchors the private counter room, its pale grain set against black walls and panels of light, plain wood. Custom-made chairs invite an unhurried evening, and with so few seats, the chef's hands are never far from view. Seafood arrives daily from Toyosu Market, chosen by the chef and served omakase style. The rice is seasoned with a house blend of three red vinegars, giving each piece a mellow, rounded acidity that lingers gently behind the fish. It is a measured approach to Japanese cuisine, in which the season sets the order of the meal rather than the other way around. Sushi is only part of the course. Between pieces of nigiri come small plates that follow the same seasonal thread: grilled dishes, a Saikyo-zuke made with the house miso, and warm chawanmushi. Attention is also given to how each plate looks and to the way the course unfolds. Sake receives equal care, with eight to ten labels on hand, changing as the months turn, and a pairing course matches six of them to the meal. As the last piece is placed on the counter, the room settles into stillness. What remains is the faint warmth of vinegared rice and the quiet of a small space.