September 1, 2008
By: Ken Alan
kalan@aroundphilly.com
Every few months, I make it a point to have a daddy-daughter date with Tia, who is the six-year-old princess in my life.
At first, when she was old enough to appreciate such outings, I’d treat her to finery, like afternoon tea at the Ritz-Carlton; or, maybe, something entertaining, like a performance of Beauty and the Beast--just the two of us.
At about the age of four though, I discovered that Tia and I had a culinary commonality, an appreciation for a certain type of toothsome cuisine: We both love sushi.
Thus, the two of us have traversed the region in search of the stuff: Pristine slices of sea bass and beady bites of shad roe enjoyed together at Bluefin in Plymouth Meeting (considered to be one of the suburbs’ best sushi spots); spicy tuna maki roll served by Jenny and Kenny, husband-and-wife owners of Kabuki in King of Prussia, which is a favorite of Tia’s; and the almost unlimited bounty to be found at Minado in West Norriton, which is undoubtedly the grandest of sushi spectacles with its 40-something buffet offerings within a 500-seat behemoth of a restaurant.
Largest yes, but Minado is far from the oldest. That distinction lies with Hana, a small, non-descript place that’s tucked into an unassuming shopping center in Wayne, hiding neatly behind the Lancaster County Farmer’s Market just off Route 30. Since 1981--a full decade before the proliferation of Japanese fare came into our collective consciousness and across our taste buds--Hana had been bringing the freshest sushi to legions of loyal discoverers.
Originally owned by Midori Cleaver, she sold the restaurant in 2002 to her nephew Yori Shima, who has been slicing and dicing for his fans ever since.
Both are Japanese-born, which, when you think about it, is not a very common trait regarding most operators of sushi places in our outer-Philly area. Chinese, yes, and Korean, too, but few make-rolling restaurateurs are the real deal.
| WHAT TO GET |
"The Bob," eel and
tempura shrimp roll
in a spicy sauce, is
a customer's name-
sake creation.
|
Indeed, there is a vast following at Hana. Unlike other really exceptional sushi operations, ones that rely on savvy marketing to spread their word (like Teikoku in Newtown Square), or, those touted in the so-called end-all dining guides (Zagat’s Survey has given Bluefin the same high score for its food as that earned by the famed Morimoto in Center City), Hana goes about its business quietly. This 61-seater rarely generates much press. And technology is hardly chef
Shima’s forte. Try pulling up the website and you’re directed to a homepage advertising other local
businesses and such.
Open Tuesday through Sunday (lunch is served weekdays), Hana, like so many sushi houses, is spare. The rectangular space offers a cutesy collection of decorative porcelain cats, the same raised-paw feline good luck pieces as you’ll see at most other similar operations, and that is pretty much the decorative panache there.
The real scene though, is those sated BYO-bringing diners, who happily pluck with their chopsticks at the affordable fare produced by Shima’s deft fingers.
On our most recent daddy-daughter date, Tia and I arrived early, grabbing two of the five seats along the small sushi bar. A steaming bowl of miso soup and a heaping one of edamame beans were healthful starters. Then came nigiri sushi, a melt-in-your-mouth assortment of ten delectable pieces, plus one six-piece tuna roll. Though we came for fish, we also split the beef teriyaki--marinated in a soy-based sauce, thinly sliced--a fine kitchen’s complement to the sushi talents displayed before us.
I went back for lunch, dateless this time, and appreciated the under-$10 lunch special, a typical yet heightened version of a Bento box.
What set it apart is the same aspect that creates such droves of satiated customers; the freshness level of the seafood Shima gets each day, that, plus the nimble dexterity he has in slicing seafood and preparing rolls.
| DINING TIP |
Hana brings in
desserts from the
nearby Aux Petits
Delices, whose
pastry chef came by
way of Le Bec-Fin
prior to opening
his own place in
Wayne.
|
To be comparative for a moment:
My dinner two nights prior at Royersford’s Moritomo was satisfying, though those simple flavors and the flimsy preparations just couldn’t compare to the chilled, tightly bound vibrancy of what I later found at Hana.
My wife, admittedly, gets a tad jealous of these special outings with my little princess; my son though, he could care less as his tastes are slanted more toward steak and pizza. Sushi is not to their liking, and too bad for them.
Meanwhile, I am working on planning another date night with Tia. I’d love to take her to Morimoto, though
I suspect the grandeur of the experience would be lost on her.
A better bet may be a return trip to Hana. Nothing can compare to watching my daughter take down an entire roll of spicy tuna. Maybe even two, if I were to let her.
Visit Hana
