An Illicit Love Affair With Fusion Sushi Has Just Begun

(JG Photo/Gita Utari)

A useful piece of life advice is never to visit a sushi restaurant when you are hungry. Those seductive revolving plates parading before one’s eyes like a harem of geishas, yielding diminutive, mouthwatering delicacies can be dangerous for the wallet. Sushi is a triple threat: tiny, expensive and irresistible.

Therefore, when I learned of a Japanese restaurant that apparently wouldn’t send me into bankruptcy, I was anxious to try it. Last week, my companion and I visited Umaku Restaurant in Cibubur.

It was slightly surprising to find such an establishment in this area. A pleasant dining experience usually necessitates an agonizing two-hour crawl into central Jakarta. The options in the leafy suburbs are primarily limited to street-side food stalls or seductive but artery clogging fast food. Umaku is definitely neither of these. It is a brightly lit and eccentrically decorated place. The ceiling is adorned by tens of spherical, paper lamp shades and, more bizarrely, dried inflated fugu (puffer fish), which sway on strings, their beady glass eyes scrutinizing baffled customers as they enter.

Instead of wallpaper, yellowing pages of a Japanese-language Indonesian newspaper have been pasted onto the walls. Elsewhere, glass cases display collections of butterflies and Tokyo subway maps. Also strewn around the place are the ubiquitous “lucky” paw-waving golden cat statues. Five small tables sit against the left wall while to the right is a seating bar facing the open kitchen for those sushi voyeurs who want to admire the chef’s slicing and dicing.

A wide variety of dishes are available: assorted sushi, sashimi, bento boxes and other items such as grilled fatty tuna. The specialty dishes are different types of fusion sushi.

I have always been suspicious of the concept of fusion sushi would usually have turned my nose up at such offerings but, in the interest of journalistic integrity, felt obliged to order the house special Volcano Roll. To ease my conscience, I also ordered salmon sashimi. I watched uneasily as the solemn chef prepared my Volcano. He flattened out the sushi rice, filled it with crab sticks, and rolled it up. On top of this, he placed thinly sliced salmon, then handed the plate to one of his minions. The young man proceeded to cover the salmon with a thick, pinkish mayonnaise and sprinkle it with flying fish roe. Finally he brandished a blow touch and seared the dish with its roaring blue flame.

The sushi counter at Umaku. (JG Photo/Gita Utari)

I must confess that when it was placed in front of me, I did not fall in love with the Volcano. It looked more like a creamy, gooey, half-melted ice cream than the sublimely plated dish one usually receives at a Japanese restaurant. My enthusiasm was further dampened when I stupidly burned my hand by touching the plate; not only was this concoction unattractive, it was dangerous!

Nonetheless, I valiantly plunged my chopsticks through the thick coating of condiment and grasped a piece. After expertly rolling it in my wasabi-infused soy sauce, I took a bite. Sometimes, it’s nice to be wrong. It may be an affront to the eyes, but the Volcano tastes wonderful. Somehow all of the bizarre combination of ingredients works together wonderfully; I felt guilty for enjoying it so much.

The Volcano is definitely very far removed from traditional sushi. Perhaps fusion sushi is sushi’s vivacious and attractive younger sister: looser morals, less classy but hard to resist. You wouldn’t introduce it to your mother; it’s probably the culinary equivalent of a booty call! I enjoyed my Volcano immensely but I felt like I needed a hot shower afterwards.

After the illicit pleasure of the Volcano, it was time to enjoy something that made me feel less dirty. Salmon sashimi is my favorite Japanese dish, and Umaku’s version didn’t disappoint.

Umaku forgoes the norm of serving thinly slices morsels of fish and instead presented me with monstrous slabs of plump salmon meat, which melted in the mouth. I was genuinely surprised to be presented with such a large portion of exceptional quality fish.

My companion’s unagi maki, eel roll, was equally substantial, and she declared that it rivaled any in Jakarta. Furthermore, having devoured two dishes, the unfamiliar sensation of being full after a sushi meal was an unexpected surprise.

A final pleasant surprise remained when I requested the bill. An excellent sushi meal for two with non-alcoholic drinks was quite affordable.

A restaurant should let its food do the talking and despite indifferent and surly service, weird inflated fish, and haphazard presentation of its dishes Umaku offers excellent food at very reasonable prices. I will be back; my illicit relationship with fusion sushi has just begun.

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