Omakase translates to “I leave it up to you” and is defined by Michelin as “a form of Japanese dining in which guests leave themselves in the hands of a chef and receive a meal that is seasonal, elegant, artistic and uses the finest ingredients available.” Oklahoma City has never really had true omakase at this level, and suddenly, there are two: Kanji Japanese and AKAI. Kanji feels special somehow for existing outside the urban core.
Only the postman knows where Oklahoma City ends and Edmond begins. Kanji must be close to that demarcation and is a welcome addition to this part of town. Don’t let the strip shopping center fool you; they’ve done an incredible job of making you forget about the parking lot and suburban sprawl just beyond. Immediately upon walking in, you pass through a dense velvet curtain, and suddenly, you’re transported to Kanji.
Operating partner Sonny Choy and executive chef Midian Pratama clearly understand two things: Oklahoma Citians are excited about — and supportive of — new restaurants, and this part of the metro is definitely home to more high-end diners than it has higher-caliber restaurants.
Well, they understand those two things and they understand fresh fish.
Pratama, a native of Indonesia, had extensive experience as a sushi chef in Chicago and Miami before coming to Oklahoma City.
“Kanji means ‘sensation’ in Japanese, and we chose it because we believe we can create a sensation with our omakase-style dinners and excellent fish program,” Pratama said.
An extensive wine, sake and beer list has been selected to pair specifically with the dishes. As a big fan of Japanese whisky, I opted for the Kanji house Old Fashioned made with Mars Iwai whisky, aromatic bitters, yuzu bitters and demerara sugar (which I had to look up; it’s an unrefined light brown cane sugar with a molasses-like flavor). It was excellent, so I had to try another cocktail with dinner. This time, I opted for the highball made with Toki Suntory whisky and soda water. If Japanese whisky is your jam, you’ll probably just want to work your way through Kanji’s catalog, which spans the gamut from Mars Iwai to Takamine 20-year. I’d suggest doing this slowly and responsibly, with a rideshare at the ready.
Leveling up
Whisky in hand, we moved on to the starters, which also cover quite a spread, from the familiar edamame, eggplant frites and crispy Brussels sprouts to the wagyu tartare and a six-pack of seasonal oysters served with lychee jelly and ponzu. As a yellowtail aficionado, I had to go with the chili buri: raw yellowtail, ponzu, onion crisp, jalapeño relish and scallion. It was absolutely perfect, and I will probably never go there without ordering it. I mean, unless it’s omakase. More on that soon.
I would not normally go to a place like Kanji and get sushi rolls, but my children were present, which means the rolls were gobbled up just as quickly as they could be made and placed within reach. I’m always thankful for the perspective on the menu provided by my kids, and this was no exception. Were it not for them, I might have missed the rolls altogether.
We all fought over the Dragon Crunch: shrimp tempura, cream cheese, avocado, crunchy crisp, masago, unagi sauce, spicy Kewpie and sweet chili. That may sound similar to a roll you get at your neighborhood sushi spot, so you’ll just have to trust me when I say this is not the same as that. It’s those same ingredients, but with skyscraping elevation. I’m not suggesting I can’t go back to my sweet little local shop (coincidentally, also located in a strip mall) and enjoy my Dragon Roll. But the quality of this fish, the cut, the extra time spent rolling it perfectly — all of that meant this roll was simply superior to its down-market cousins.
I would totally come back just to try more of the rolls. The list has some really intriguing options, like the A5 lobster roll, with creamy lobster, seared A5 Wagyu, truffle sauce, jalapeño, kizami wasabi and caviar. As a snow crab fangirl, I was also happy to see three different rolls featuring snow crab in the starring role.
I stuck mostly to nigiri for this visit. It’s what Kanji is known for, and with good reason. I always feel like chef’s selection is as close to omakase as one can get on a normal person’s salary; it’s like ordering a double iced Americano and adding extra milk to make yourself think you’ve gone full iced latte on that deal.
My “mini-omakase” could not possibly have been more on point: delicately sweet sea bream, paper-thin amberjack, melt-in-your-mouth yellowtail, silky salmon, rich bluefin tuna and horse mackerel in all its oily, briny, splendid minerality.
I can’t remember the last time I’ve had fish so perfectly sliced; it was certainly in San Francisco or Seattle, not Dallas or Oklahoma City. I know that there are different cuts for different textures of fish; I won’t pretend to know, understand or pronounce the names of those styles.
But I’d be willing to bet these hard-won skills around specialized techniques are nothing short of muscle memory for Chef Pratama.
What pushed the entire evening over the top was the hospitality. If Choy and Pratama were going for “omotenashi” — the definition of Japanese hospitality — they nailed it. The anticipation of our every need, the genuine warmth radiated by our server and the attention to detail — we may as well have been in Osaka.
Here’s the thing about the leveling-up of Oklahoma City’s dining scene: As the restaurants evolve beyond what we’ve known before, we as diners must rise to the occasion. As guests, we have to be ready to lean into a completely new experience in unexpected environs with new flavors and sensations. For some, this experience may mean simply slowing down. It may mean toning it down in terms of volume, considering the smaller, more intimate space. It may just mean making room for the unexpected, the unknown the unpronounceable.
My next time at Kanji will be for omakase. I’ve had a taste, and now I want the full treatment. I want the caviar and champagne at the top. I want to be blissfully relieved of the responsibility of making even a single decision. For me, it’s escapism at its finest. I can’t hop on a plane and head to Tokyo; there are many, many places I will never see in my lifetime. But I am fortunate to live in a time and place where I get to experience those cultures in my own hometown, maybe even my own ZIP code. It may not be a stamp in my passport, but I feel lucky to enjoy it all the same.
Visit kanjiokc.com.
This article appears in City crowned.