Review: Fenikkusu Omakase & Tapas is a neighborhood treasure

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There are times when you live in a neighborhood so long, you miss things.

You notice the brand-new, perhaps; the very obvious, in-your-face changes, on the well-traveled streets, but neglect to espy what has been there all along — in this case, for more than five years.

Fenikkusu (“Phoenix”) is such a place for me. Others, I know, have not been so negligent in their awareness of this local gem.

Specializing in omakase and Japanese tapas, Chef George Z. gives care and attention to detail usually reserved for much tonier (read: $$$$) places. Sitting at the counter should be mandatory, at least once, to gaze in wonder at Chef George’s artistry.

And make no mistake. While the website touts that this is a casual restaurant, the cuisine and ambiance is anything but.

The interior is cozy and intimate, with seating at the bar and tables up front, and in the back a long, diner-style red banquette, topped with colorful manga posters. Behind the sushi counter, where Chef and his associate work their magic, there are a myriad of books, Yu-Gi-Oh figurines, sake wooden boxes, and other playful artifacts to study while you await your order. You could be in Osaka.  

Two of us split the 10-piece sashimi omakase:

From memory, we were served a still life of otoro, striped jack, sake, horse mackerel, marinated bluefin tuna, blue shrimp with a creamy, pine nut-studded sauce, and ikura with uni.

There were single pieces of fish we had to share, two of others, but not a one less than exquisite. Extraordinarily fresh, each piece was alive with Chef’s intention, served at the perfect room temperature (I can’t stand when sashimi is served cold — it tells you the refrigerated fish wasn’t cut to order), each with its own garnish or seasoning (“no soy sauce needed,” we were forewarned. Agreed.) 

My absolute favorite was the gorgeous bluefin tuna, so much so that I ended up ordering another piece a la carte.

We shared a tapa of ika and uni.

Raw squid, whose pristine cuts rendered the mollusk unimaginably tender, while still retaining its chew, topped with silky uni.

Next, we split another tapa of steamed, cold eggplant.

Fluttering bonito shavings came atop the eggplant, which was held together by its stem. A mild dish, and bit difficult (for us) to eat with chopsticks. I’d probably not order this again.

We next tried something I’d never had before, anago tempura:

Delicately battered and beautifully fried sea eel. The interior was creamy and luscious, the exterior perfectly crispy and light.

Next, scallop sashimi.

Lime zest emphasized the freshness of this shellfish. Another stellar rendition that melted in your mouth.

We thought our last course would be the oxtail pot.

A soothing broth engulfed soft tofu, daikon and a rather unwieldy and large bone-in oxtail and its luscious meat, with a generous smattering of cilantro.

At first, I found the soup a bit bland. But, as I went deeper into the bowl, I grew to appreciate its clean flavors, its lack of pretension or distraction. Another dish that was a little difficult to manage with chopsticks; the meat stuck quite stubbornly to the bone, so in with our fingers we went, which did not diminish our enjoyment of this rustic dish. 

Seated next to us at the bar were two women who ate probably half of what we did, but who knew enough to order this lovely plate:

Fat, slippery udon are tossed with spicy mentaiko and topped with kizami nori. A heavenly aroma wafts up to your nose, whetting your appetite for the garlicky, buttery and, as my friend put it, blissful tangle of noodles.

This is a destination-worthy dish, a dish to return for. I’d almost venture to say it was my favorite of the evening, except for all the spectacular fish creations, of course. But you must get this.  

A sign in Fennikusu states “No Americanized rolls,” but I espied a woman late in the evening who sat in a corner window seat, gazing contentedly down at her hand roll.

I made a comment to the chef and he said, sotto voce, that the woman had been a customer since day one and had requested the roll way back then, and they had accommodated her ever since. Now that’s a classy move.  

What a jewel. Fenikkusu is not cheap, but neither is it overpriced for all the obvious care that goes into each handcrafted morsel. Make this your next date night. Or a Tuesday dinner with a pal. Or treat yourself to a counter seat and let Chef George dazzle you.

Fenikkusu
1009 Guerrero St.