Perhaps you've spotted Fushimi's gaping red maw at the intersection of North 10th and Driggs, its stretch of tinted floor-to-ceiling windows and strutting lights. Perhaps you've even caught a glimpse of yourself in the silver sheen of its mirrored doors, eyes widened as you experience a sweeping sensation of bafflement, terror, and awe. Is it da club? And what kind of club?
Nay, young wanderer. Fushimi is sushi. More specifically, Fushimi, and I quote, "fuses traditional Japanese food with inventive French inspired nouvelle cuisines topped with talented chefs with years of industry experience*; making Fushimi's dishes extremely exquisite to the taste buds; the cream of the crop."
*Does anyone else picture sushi rice adorned with white-jacketed chefs?
In the midst of the muted urban-rustic aesthetic that has long dominated Williamsburg's restaurant scene, Fushimi sticks out like a sore thumb. A sore thumb that just happens to be totally awesome and is probably more like a palm that's only sore because it's been getting so many freaking high fives. It is a sore palm that deserves celebration, and we've decided to celebrate with you. So, without further ado, allow me to set the scene. (It helps to play a little this in the background.)
As the doors hiss shut behind you and your eyes adjust, you may worry you've been sealed into an airlock. Breathe. You've just embarked on a marvelous adventure; there's no turning back now.
There will be a lot of unst, unst, unst and ambient house music. Lights, flashing. Shades of purple, red, and blue. A lot of glowing, a lot of shiny, and enough reflective orbs to satisfy any narcissist's, err, narcissistic fantasies. Beaded glass curtains shimmer and tinkle in the background. There are dimly lit booths to swallow you into their deep embrace. There is, most importantly, a tunnel. A portal, if you will, for a space-age quality passage to the restrooms—themselves a treasure trove of sights and sounds and, of course, a whole bunch of great big mirrors.
And yes, there is sushi, which while not exactly cheap, is also not half bad. But what am I saying?! You should already be halfway out the door, to go see for yourself. Or take a preliminary look in the slideshow »
About the author: Niki Achitoff-Gray is the associate editor of Serious Eats and a recent graduate of the Institute of Culinary Education. She's pretty big into oysters, offal, and most edible things. You can follow her on Twitter at @eatandcry.