Hey, sushi junkies, did you know that Izmi Sushi has added a second dining room and installed a series of teppan tables? The most avid sushi eaters may ask themselves, "So what? I only go for the sushi, so what do I care about fancy grill tables?" If you've ever been on a date with a girl who would rather kiss a live squid than eat one; if you've ever loved a guy who loved nothing but beef; if you've ever been pregnant (and been advised to avoid raw fish) or gotten anyone pregnant (what fun!), then you might appreciate the teppan grills. Not because you're hungry for cooked-firm fish or spicy fried rice, but because these tables allow you to eat all the yellowfin you want, while your mate enjoys a New York strip and your little ones watch the teppan chef spin eggs around on his spatula.
Izmi's manager, Brent Jung, told me he wanted to expand in order to offer more kinds of Japanese food. The restaurant expanded into space left vacant when some county offices moved out about a year ago. "It took us six months to remodel, from the day we signed the lease until the day we opened," Jung said. A month and a half of that was spent dealing with permits, the bane of every restaurateur's existence, but most of the time was spent installing custom-made teppan tables and a new ventilation hood for each.
Here's something you've probably never thought about: Most restaurants have one ventilation hood, mounted directly over the range top or grill, pretty much like you'd have at home, except way more powerful. Unlike our newfangled recirculating vent hoods, restaurant hoods must vent to the outside. The point here is that Izmi had to install a half-dozen new hoods, each venting up through the roof. If you've ever tackled a home-improvement project that required cutting a hole in your roof, I'm sure you know how happy they are that the renovations are over.
The restaurant is also open for dinner on Sunday nights now, so go check it out and don't forget to e-mail and let me know what you think. And listen: Do not underestimate the power of the egg-spinning spatula trick. For reasons too painful to relate, I once spent a snowy Christmas night at a teppan table. Ten of my closest relatives huddled around the semi-
circular grill, swilling sake and staring at each other with red-rimmed, blaming eyes. (Someone forgot to buy the roast! There! I said it!) The only other table in the place was occupied, we assumed, by one of the few Jewish families in this small mountain town; looking somewhat bored but not bitter, they seemed perfectly content to be having California rolls on Christmas. Anyway, we had a passel of kids among us and the only light moments of the otherwise dismal evening came from watching their eyes light up and bug out as they stared, transfixed, at the chef tossing shrimp tails high in the air and catching them in his hat (clapping from the kids! More sake for the grown-ups!). And when he set one egg after another into high-speed spins, launching them high and landing them again on his spatula, kids and drunken grownups alike squealed with glee.
In unrelated news, there's a food-related art show opening at the Roundhouse this Friday. It's called
The Food Show: Politics, Pleasure and Pain
, and it's presented by the Santa Fe Council for the Arts and the Capitol Art Foundation. The show aims to address the lack of connection between most Americans and our sources of food. According to organizers, our lack of involvement in food production, "encourages the loss of small farms, family farmers and ranchers (and their integral importance in our communities), the indiscriminate use of pesticides, herbicides, chemical fertilizers and genetic engineering in agribusiness, loss of diversity, hunger, obesity and a lack of appreciation for the miracle of food and thus the miracle of life." Whoa! All of that's our fault? I guess that's the "pain" part of the show's title.
From straightforward photographs of local farmers to video installation and from meat paintings to food mandala, you can expect the participating artists to surprise, delight, and (depending on the strength of your stomach) either put you off your feed or rush you off to dinner. Either way, you won't look at food the same way for a while to come.
Izmi Sushi
720 St. Michaels Drive
424-1311
11:30 am-2 pm, 5 pm-9 pm Monday-Friday, 5 pm-9 pm Sunday
The Food Show: Politics, Pleasure and Pain
Reception 4-6 pm Friday, Oct. 14; through Dec. 16.
State Capitol Rotunda, Old Santa Fe Trail and Paseo de Peralta, 986-4589
Tell me where to eat! I need your input. Send all of your tips, gripes and raves to food@sfreporter.com.
