Kura's East Village space may be Lilliputian and dim, but the post-dinner high it induces looms large and light.
To find the restaurant, which has been flying under the radar since its February opening, duck under the scaffolding where St. Mark's Place kisses Tompkins Square Park. Look for blue-and-white fabric rippling in the doorway.
Inside, you'll discover a windowless hush and intimate minimalism at a single four-seat table, and the 12-seat bar.
Jolly Norihiro Ishizuka is behind the counter, offering two staggeringly reasonable, $65 omakase menus: 10 pieces of sushi and a hand roll, or a kappo selection of six cooked dishes, four pieces of sushi and one hand roll.
On a recent visit, we ate glistening pieces of chutoro, and an egg custard--perfectly rich and jiggly in scope.
Hand rolls are loosely insouciant, barely containing the warm grains of rice inside. A cherry-blossom leaf envelopes whitefish, with an arrowroot broth ladled over the top.
Caught up in each course, we felt flattened with the meal's abrupt ending. Green tea ice cream, the only dessert offered, didn't fit the night's tempo.
No matter: Our memory of this radiant Japanese spot is profoundly sweet.
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