Roughly 2,000 years ago, when I was but a lad growing up in Los Angeles, my father hit his 40th birthday, and we marked the
occasion with a special trip to his favorite Los Angeles sushi bar. The chef, a man named Fuji with whom my father had become enamored over the years, was well aware of the milestone, and offered up a special birthday surprise—a lobster that was still very much alive. With a steady hand and no small amount of confidence, Fuji twisted the tail of the great sea bug in a fluid 360-degree
motion; sliced open the underside; plopped it on a lacquered plate and set in front of my dad. Happy. Birthday. Bro. I do not condone this, nor do I believe I’ve ever heard about it happening anyplace else, but my dad bellied up to the bar and, feeling it would be unfathomably rude to decline the gift, ate the lobster as its claws thrashed wildly.
I know this is a terrible story, but I tell it to prove a point: My family is serious when it comes to sushi. Many of them lived in Japan for a long period of time and came back to the states with a gnawing hunger for quality sushi. We know the good stuff. And Joy’s Sushi Bar from the folks at Santa Fe Asian Market checks basically all of my boxes for a solid sushi experience. Let’s get into it.
You’ll find a funny thing in the Japanese restaurant realm sometimes wherein eateries go upscale rather than feeling like a neighborhood haunt. In Santa Fe, this is not particularly an issue in that our sushi joints like Kohnami and Masa and Izmi feel a little more toned down; the kind of places wheyou could wear jeans and not feel out of place. Hell, Jesushi has been my reigning favorite spot in town, and its chef Jesus Mendoza operates out of a truck. Joy’s Sushi Bar takes things a little further than most in the casual sense—it’s attached to Santa Fe Asian Market and only separated by a faux wall. You can
access the grocery without going back outside; you order at the counter; everything comes on paper plates; and it was absolutely packed on the night a companion and I set out in search of sushi.
The busy night came as no surprise, as we’d both generally heard positive reviews. Still, Santa Fe loves to pretend like a so-so restaurant is God’s gift to food, so I remained skeptical right up until our appetizers came. Not only was the house salad ($4.99) cold and fresh and tasty, the requisite Japanese restaurant ginger dressing was house-made and so delicious I had to italicize the word. It came with a bit of what I can really only call tempura batter crunchies, too, which added texture and flavor and made the salad more of an experience. Was it simple? Absolutely. Have I had its like elsewhere? Nope. Not quite Ditto for the large bowl of miso soup ($1.99), which had about the most flavorful and generous amounts of broth I’ve yet to encounter in such a dish. For $1.99, you’d expect a lot less, too. Excellent.
The toughest part about dining at Joy’s came in selecting our rolls. The restaurant literally has pages of clever concoctions featuring fresh fish and accoutrements in various configurations. In the end, we wanted to try a variety of options. Thus, we selected the caterpillar roll (an avocado-heavy number similar to a California roll, only with way more avocado; $10.99), some yellowtail sashimi and eel sashimi ($2.50 and $2.25 respectively), a tempura shrimp roll ($7.99) and a teriyaki chicken rice bowl ($9.99).
As I said, everything comes out on paper plates as it’s ready, but at no point did we feel rushed or like our server didn’t stagger the dishes well. We’d finished our apps and barely had to wait a minute before the sushi and teriyaki came flying out of the small kitchen, for example, and in most cases, we loved our choices. To get it out of the way, Joy’s shrimp tempura roll was not my favorite. The shrimp itself both tasted and felt like it had been prepared earlier in the day, and you kind of want a warm and crunchy experience with that particular roll. No matter, though, as everything else from the sushi menu was a triumph. The caterpillar roll featured flavorful avocado that complemented the crab salad and cucumber brilliantly, and the sushi rice had been cooked to a satisfying stickiness without becoming an untouchable burden. The sashimi was a delight, too, from the buttery tang of the yellowtail to the nuanced and flaky melt-in-your-mouth action of the eel (pro tip, never sleep on the eel). My companion also espoused the quality of the chicken teriyaki. They lived near Seattle for a time and have strong feelings about that area’s specific take on teriyaki—Joy’s version, they said, was a winner.
And the whole thing clocked in at under $60. The real takeaway, however, might be that takeout is the route to go. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed the less hoity-toity ambiance of Joy’s and have long sung the praises of the grocery store eatery—something far more common in larger cities. Still, something felt borderline cafeteria-ish, and I couldn’t help but notice the throngs of to-go customers coming and going during our meal. Perhaps one could stop by Joy’s ahead of a picnic, or after a long day at work before heading home. The main point is that it adds something wonderful to our dining scene, and there’s no need to get all dressed up for it. Regardless, the service was friendly and prompt and kind (those are the big three), and the bill was easy to swallow. Plus, you could even do some shopping next door when you’re done. They have matcha Pocky at Santa Fe Asian Market.
Joy’s Sushi Bar
1644 St. Michael’s Drive, (505) 954-1816
