Gin-No Taki, a sleek addition to the Kyiv sushi scene
There are two related aspects of Kyiv dining life that remain completely inscrutable to me. The first is why nearly every restaurant offers a menu with more pages than a Soviet visa application, filled with hundreds of dishes and at least as many drinks. The other is why the wait staff seems to feel you can satisfactorily paw through such a Bible-sized tome in the time usually allotted to pull on a pair of jeans. What’s more, they almost always sigh heavily with irritation when you sheepishly ask for a few more minutes to at least cover the appetizers.
This problem is only compounded in sushi restaurants, whose menus most likely offer compelling full-color representations of the possibilities, forcing you to choose—under pressure—from a dozen salads, two score appetizers, fifty pieces of sushi (available, of course, in at least three or four variations each), and another sixty or so hot dishes, whose hastily conceived English translations habitually bear little resemblance to their corresponding photos.
Things were no different at Gin-No Taki, yet another addition to Kyiv’s ever-expanding list of Japanese restaurants. In fact, the waitress asked us three separate times within seven minutes (I checked my watch) if we were ready to order, before we finally—grudgingly—settled on our meals. Other first impressions also boded unwell. Outside, before we’d reached the restaurant, we followed three different signs for the entrance that all seemed to point in different directions, only to be met at the door by a gruff young man in samurai attire, whose sole job, apparently, is to make you feel stupid when you ask if the dining room is upstairs or down.
But we’re always willing to put up with these little infamies for sushi. And not just because it’s an ideal summer food. While the national dishes of borsht, kasha, varenycks and pelmeni can be delicious, they don’t exactly epitomize light seasonal fare. Naturally, a new Japanese restaurant is no real cause for curiosity in the capital, and sushi can usually be found on a page or two on the menu of every “fusion” restaurant in town. But the levels of quality and value vary wildly, and, when dealing with raw fish, you necessarily have to be picky.
I’m happy to reveal that Gin-No Taki is not just a sushi restaurant, but a good one, with prices as democratic as Murakami but an interior that mirrors more the sleekness of Nobu. Not only is it incredibly modern, but anywhere you sit will command a view through the massive windows of the (albeit plain) courtyard. It’s not exactly the golden domes of the Lavra, but it’s the opposite of claustrophobic and the lighting is at the perfect level to make you and your guest look their best. And once the massive menu was finally covered and our food began to arrive, we both settled into that comfortable excitement a good sushi meal so naturally engenders.
We began with a smoked eel salad (Hr 35), where a decent number of golden brown postage stamps of fish sat atop rubber bands of firm tofu, slivers of seaweed, and sesame seeds stuck among small nuggets of avocado. While I might have been slightly disappointed by the eel if I’d ordered it as a piece of sushi, mixed among the salad it provided a lovely salty-sweet contrast to the avocado—the consistency of the tofu and the hint of brine from the seaweed only completing the palate. The edamame (Hr 15) was forgettable, and obviously microwaved (or, if not, tragically oversteamed). And the rice balls, if a bit plain, had a satisfying exterior crunch that led to a softer and more pliant center, with a wonderful tangy sauce that enhanced everything I decided to dip in it.
As for the entrees themselves, the sushi dinner (Hr 62) was a good price for the assortment and size of pieces. While I may have had a more perfect piece of this or that in my life, nothing stood out as either too fishy or chewy, with the basics in particular (tuna, salmon, and the ubiquitous yet mysterious “white fish” whose identity changes with the catch) evincing nothing but quality. Perhaps the piece of yellow roe was a bit boring, but, then again, I really didn’t expect too much from it to begin with.
A similar satisfaction was to be found with the sashimi platter (Hr 83), save for the scallop in the center. While its flavor was as delicate as expected, my guest and I both had to suffer through a rather primal chewing process to make any headway. It’s rare that such a thing as leftover sushi exists, but we each left a piece of scallop on the plate. As for the selection of sushi by the piece, my guest insisted we try a nigiri of octopus with mayonnaise. Now, while I happen to love mayo—and have made peace with its near omnipresence here in the capital—I’ve always limited the condiments on my raw fish to wasabi and soy sauce. Indeed, when the circle of black seaweed arrived, a half dozen tiny tentacles covered in the white paste reaching above the top as if trying to escape their inundation, I felt no urge to take a taste. But my guest assured me it was quite good, and I, well, graciously took her word for it.
Gin-no Taki (49A Volodymyrska, 466-6276). Open daily 10 a.m. till the last customer
English menu: Yes
English-speaking staff: Yes
Average meal: Hr 100
