Shiku
5310 Ballard Ave. NW
Seattle, WA 98107
(206) 588-2151
My girlfriend waited patiently for an hour and a half inside Bop Street, Seattle’s legendary used record store, while I dug through crate after crate of records, looking for something I never knew I needed. What kept her from going catatonic while thumbing through gospel 78s in Bop Street’s crypt-like basement was the knowledge that once we got out of there, we’d be trying out the Ballard neighborhood’s relatively new sushi bar and cocktail lounge, Shiku. One of two sushi restaurants to open on Ballard Avenue this past summer, Shiku replaced DiVino Wine Bar, perhaps one metro-bourgeois drinking establishment too many for a neighborhood with a long past (but rapidly changing future) of being stridently blue-collar and independent.
Ballard Avenue on a rainy evening is gorgeous. Brick and stone buildings stand no more than three or four stories, never overwhelming the pedestrian below, whom walk on brick sidewalks whose unevenness sometimes pool rainwater that, in turn, reflects the shimmering neon signs of the businesses up and down the street. The warm red and cherry-hued wood color scheme of Shiku is a welcome visual addition to the avenue. Once we were seated, the lack of interior light surrounded us, eventually making the meal an intimate affair, despite the somewhat stark accouterments. This almost felt like eating sushi in some kind of postmodern film noir, everything beautifully dark and delicious. In the opposite corner of the restaurant, the chefs working away at the sushi bar (the restaurant’s main source of light) actually wore fedoras. Indeed, a visit to an online Japanese dictionary reveals one translation of “shiku” to “streets, or municipal district.”
The staff clicked like clockwork; our host seated us with ruthless efficiency and explained the menu upon hearing this was our first time. Our server, an adorable Japanese woman, made us feel as though we had keen eyes by responding to our order as though we’d found the best things on the menu.
The menu was straightforward yet interesting. Nigiri and typical hand rolls shared menu space along a page of enticing specialty rolls, each of which had pictures on a table-top hanging rolodex. In addition, one menu section was devoted to izakaya food, izakaya being Japanese for “tavern” and the food being a kind of Japanese tapas. From this we ordered their version of the jalapeno popper, with snowcrab joining the satisfying, warm cream cheese inside. From the specialty rolls, we selected the bizarrely named Homeless Roll and the Zig Zag Roll. The Homeless had cucumber, avocado and soft-shell crab wrapped around fried jumbo shrimp, while the Zig Zag boasted snowcrab, soft-shell crab and avocado held together by soy paper.
The Zig Zag was said to come with half a soft-shell crab on the side; the most we could find were four legs. When I’d first sat down, I thought the idea of a menu of pictures available for scoping out the pricier specialty rolls pretty novel. However, Shiku should know better in that they’re building up expectations by putting out these heaping and somewhat gaudy visuals up front before the actual plate arrives. This and the obligatory television above the bar broadcasting a college football game that seemed to have no viewers present both did a little bit to deflate the sexy, sleekness that made us putty in Shiku’s hands.
I really admired the service and the rolls were a great value, priced at around $6 with specialty rolls maxing out at $14.50. While eating Shiku’s flavorful yet light sushi, I couldn’t help but notice that the rolls were warm, violating my and certainly much of America’s palate’s familiarity with ice cold sushi. This is unfortunate as I think that that’s the influence of the grocery store refrigerator case on a cuisine that’s still so exotic to Americans. But just like Fred McMurray trusted Barbara Stanwyck in Double Indemnity, I will trust Shiku to point me in the right direction.
by Chris Middleman
