We walked across the street to Niko, which is Coby Levy’s place on Mercer. And you know, it’s hip and swank, and a good-looking crowd and he doesn’t let anyone in. I was just going there to go see who was there, you never know what’s going on there. Of course you get stopped at the door. He has a very strict door policy. We got up to the top and of course he’s there waiting, dressed like something out of Mad Men. The place does look like some sort of swanky nightclub. I was drinking a honey vodka, which I absolutely loved. I got kind of lit on that; I was drinking about three of those.

Of course, you get hungry again. He sent out some fried chicken — he makes this amazing fried chicken. I don’t know what he does to it. It’s not really bone-in chicken, it’s strips. It’s an Asian version; it’s just great. The tuna rolls he sent out — there was a raw tuna roll he had that was absolutely amazing, it was a hand roll stuffed with crispy kampachi, pickled onions, coriander, and avocado. He has some really good sushi. I’m not a big sushi guy, but if it’s put in front of me, I’ll eat it. After that I went home; I was exhausted.

Source: New York Magazine

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Source: NY Times

Niko is a Japanese restaurant, basically. Hiro Sawatari, formerly of Sushi Yasuda, runs the sushi bar, cutting fish below a collection of bobble-head dolls depicting baseball stars. James London and Marina Schulze operate the hot kitchen, bookending Mr. Sawatari’s fish with Tokyo-style fried chicken and steak basted in Suntory whiskey, among other offerings. There is a tight and interesting list of wines put together by Laura Maniec, with some good values to be found amid the broker-bait pinot noirs. Dessert is not offered, beyond a collection of complimentary mochi pills that are relatively unappetizing.

Particularly good are the starters. An appetizer of “soy-burnt” octopus brings tender, caramelized tentacles set amid a salad of watermelon radish and kiwi fruit, with macerated cucumber as a kind of dressing: salty sweet, with a crunch. Another offers a collection of mild West Coast seaweeds interspersed with persimmons and pumpkin seeds, then enlivened by a jalapeño vinaigrette.

There is a tempura-salad hand roll built around a soft and flavorful hunk of fried sweet potato, with greens to balance its meatiness and a ginger-yuzu dressing zipping along the top, a melody to remember. Soft cubes of tofu in a dashi broth are offset by shiitakes and a peppery zing of watercress. The combination is terrific, a soup and salad made one. And red king crab legs are sweet and excellent, served with drawn butter and a bean-sprout kimchi: get these if you can.

Mr. Sawatari’s sushi is estimable. (Some of the fish is from the southern and western coasts of Japan, where the menu declares the fish “entirely safe to eat, as judged by local health officials and the F.D.A.”) It is also fashionably green, with another menu note declaring that the restaurant’s fish is gathered in accordance with the guidelines of both the Marine Stewardship Council and the Monterey Bay Aquarium.

So there is plenty of sustainably harvested mackerel, shellfish, fluke, salmon and char — and no bluefin tuna. (The restaurant uses Kindai instead, a farmed tuna that is a subject of much debate among fish fanatics, over its effect on the environment.) All of it is competently prepared, perfectly delicious and — in the dining room, at least — delivered by a staff that seems woefully underprepared to talk about it.

“This is dry-aged Creekstone beef,” a waiter says proudly, delivering to the table a beautiful slab, rosy red below its crisp, griddled crust, faintly smoky from its whiskey bath. It is great. So, too, are the nuggets of crisp fried chicken served with a fiery mayonnaise and the sweet crisp shrimp with sriracha salt, all suitable for sharing.

The single-portion entrees are also quite good, in particular a miso-cured salmon with Asian pear and celery root, and the sansho-glazed pork cheek served with collards, a crisp pig tail and a gently poached egg. A slow-roasted spicy chicken served with consommé can improve a mood immediately, and sustain it for hours afterward.

Still, the point of Niko is not really the food, though good food will bring people to the restaurant and keep them coming back despite the din that rises in the room when the hour grows late. The important thing about Niko is the scene that Mr. Levy is attempting to build in conjunction with the food: a crowd that is mostly modish and young, though still welcoming to the occasional group of people who remember the old days at Honmura An, when Yoko Ono sat in a quiet table by the windows, and everyone knew Leo Castelli by sight.

The design of the place, by Rafael de Cárdenas, helps: it reads more as a thoughtful renovation than a total teardown. People with Wooster Group subscriptions, Yamamoto suits and homes out east will be comfortable dining at Niko, at least early in the evening, before the room grows loud. The restaurant feels like homage to the SoHo that once was. It is mostly pleasant and warm. It is exceedingly handsome.

Mr. Levy is not so obviously making people feel unwelcome. Instead, he has created something old-fashioned and rare, a restaurant with good food run by the guy who actually owns the business, devoted to its regulars.

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This is a great place to brush up on your knowledge of sushi etiquette, if you have ever taken Corson’s class on the subject. For one thing, it’s relatively easy to get a prime seat at the sushi bar, since much of the fashionably dressed crowd is here for the scene in the dining room. Then let Sawatari and two other sushi chefs easily dish out as much omakase sushi as you can eat.

There was no need for wasabi or soy sauce, since he prepared each piece of fish with the appropriate amount of both, even adding a sprinkling of fleur de sel to the diver scallop.

It is also key to eat with your hands. Our chef picked up on this and started packing the rice for each piece more loosely, as it is done in Japan, which really highlighted its slightly crumbly texture and beautiful perfume.

Source: Gastro Chic

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