Tsuke Edomae

Everyone remembers their first concert, their first kiss, and the first time they successfully parallel parked on the first try. They’re probably all a little awkward, but they’re moments we look back on fondly—little bookmarks in our memories. And while it may not have the same sex appeal as that first time seeing Weird Al Yankovic live on stage, the moment we took our first bite of sushi at Tsuke Edomae is something we won’t soon forget. A meal here isn’t just an excellent, intimate dining experience—it just might ruin sushi for you forever.

Reservations are difficult to get here, generally involving some combination of luck, intense planning, and probably something about Mercury being in retrograde. Be patient, it’s worth it. When you finally arrive, the front doors will be locked until your dinner begins. Use those few minutes to take in the sights of the convenience store next door, the apartment leasing office Tsuke Edomae shares its other wall with, and the large roundabout in Mueller that nobody knows how to properly use. But once you step through those doors, the real (and even more confusing) journey begins.

The small, minimalist sushi counter has just eight seats, each decorated with a piece of slate and a small Hermès plate that costs more than your entire meal. And through the speakers, you’ll hear an oddly somber playlist made up mostly of songs from The Legend of Zelda, Spirited Away, and Octopath Traveler mixed in with bits of slow jazz and classical music.

The first 20 minutes of your meal consists of no food at all, but it’s one of the most satisfying parts of the experience. Large slabs of fish get portioned into thin pieces in front of you, while the chef cracks jokes to ease the silence. At times, he might even disappear without warning for many minutes at a time. Every piece is delicately placed onto a large plate, slowly building out what looks like a pristine paint palette of colorful fish.

The omakase —$135 at the time of this review—consists of about 20 courses, made up of a mix of small plates and nigiri, with the option to add a few extra bites at the end (which you should absolutely do). Ask the chef where any piece of fish came from, and you’ll be given a name, a date, and probably a list of the fish’s favorite TV shows. This tiny, eight-seat shop is a licensed fish importer, meaning the fish here is about as fresh as it can get, and sourced from some of the most respected fishers and vendors in Japan. But as special as the fish is, it’s the rice that takes center stage. It’s truly unique—a mix of multiple high-quality grains, cooked and seasoned with a blend of three distinct, and flavorful vinegars. And a new batch is made every 45 minutes, just to ensure it’s at its best.

Unlike some omakase spots in town that serve basically a Full English breakfast’s worth of garnishes on top of each piece, here, most of the pieces are dressed in nothing but wasabi and soy sauce, giving the fish and the rice a chance to shine.

Eventually you make your way through the multi-hour meal, humming along to a lo-fi remix of the Pokemon theme song playing on the speakers. Ask the other seven guests what their favorite bite was and prepare to hear the words “chutoro,” “akami,” “uni,” “otoro,” “anago,” “madai,” “aji,” all shouted back in near-unison from seven different mouths. There aren’t a lot of places doing classic Edo-style nigiri in Austin, and certainly none operating on this level—this might even be more exciting than that first time you successfully parallel parked.

Food Rundown

photo credit: Nicolai McCrary

Omakase

At $135, the price is comparable to other omakases in town. But considering the quality, we think it’s a steal. The fish changes regularly—so try not to get too attached to any piece—but you can generally expect about 10-12 pieces of nigiri, plus a few small plates that feature everything from horsehair crab and uni to seared Hokkaido scallops. At the end of the meal, you’ll get a small cup of some mind-blowing miso soup, and a few small bites of dessert,

photo credit: Nicolai McCrary

Add-Ons

As the end of the meal approaches, you’ll have the option to add on a few additional bites. This is where you’ll have a chance to order lightly grilled tuna belly nigiri or some of the most buttery uni you’ll ever come across. These bites come at a bit of a premium, but considering how difficult it is to get a seat here—and how long it might be until you get another chance—we think it’s worth trying a couple of them.