A recent renovation has smartened the serene little room considerably, opening it up so that every table has a view of the central action at the eight-seat sushi bar. There, Mitsuhiro Kaji offers omakase menus ($80, $100 or $120), jokes with regulars and gives a master class in the selection and preparation of superb fish and seafood. Sashimi is impeccable—Spanish tuna belly that melts in your mouth, tender, sweet Greek octopus and yuzu-flecked sea bream spiked with the fresh aroma of shiso and a frond of citric, mint-like kinome. Imaginative sushi might include toro streaked with a creamy emulsion of ginger and vinegar or a tied-up bamboo leaf concealing grilled freshwater eel. The restaurant’s other star is kitchen chef Takeshi Okada, whose constantly changing creations are inspired by the season. He tangles ribbons of bean curd with the flesh of a snow crab (alive just moments earlier) and sets it on a spongy fried cake of kuzu starch and winter melon, enisling the delicate combination in a pool of clear bonito broth that has set almost to jelly. Slivered burdock adds pleasing bitterness to a sizzling shredded beef stir-fry served on an iron pan. Seared scallop, bamboo shoot and a miniature Japanese green pepper stuffed with minced shrimp are served in a bamboo-bark mitre, the marine flavours deepened by a delicate sea urchin sauce. Desserts have improved over the years: a goblet of fresh strawberry mousse provides necessary sweetness; green tea crème brûlée draws murmurs of admiration. Deft, cheerful servers coddle customers, contributing much to the energy of the evening. Sakes range from the everyday to the celestial, with pricing to match; Asahi and Sapporo beers or a token wine list offer scant competition.