Philadelphia Weekly

Squid roe: Like the bonsai, Uzu proves less can mean more.

Uzu
104 Market St. 267.639.3447. www.uzuphilly.com
Cuisine: Sushi.
Hours: Mon., 5-10pm; Tues.-Thurs., noon-2:30pm and 5-10:30pm; Fri., noon-2:30pm and 5-11pm; Sat., 5-11pm; Sun., 5-9:30pm.
Prices: $2-$27.
Sound advice: Calm and cozy.
Service: Friendly but patchy.
Food: Fresh and delicious.

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Location, location, location--that's a concept co-owners Bo Choi and Dung Nguyen took to heart when they nestled their new sushi spot Uzu in a surprisingly small space just off Old City's main drag.

Uzu's small white sign swings inconspicuously at the end of a block occupied by Old City staples Continental and Drinker's Tavern. There are no neon beer signs.

Instead a friendly staff of three greets patrons as they enter. The small space can lead to awkward moments--entering customers must maneuver around already-seated diners--but it's far from claustrophobic.

Six two-seaters and a four- person sushi bar are artfully crafted into the angular space. Even after I dim-wittedly arrived with an unreserved party of three, we were graciously accommodated, but the space is better suited to couples.

High ceilings and gold artwork provide tranquility just steps from the "two-street" bustle. But an out-of-place flat-screen TV looms unavoidably overhead--its presence in the quaint setting unnecessary and, frankly, completely unwelcome.

What Uzu lacks in square footage it makes up for with some of the freshest food around. An eight-piece assortment of nigiri features choice cuts of fish and is refreshingly devoid of the fillers--like tamago, which many restaurants pass off on unsuspecting diners. Avocado arrives at the table in various incarnations and is a brilliant glowing green--abating fears stemming from past run-ins at inferior spots with brown mush stashed inside tightly sealed rolls.

The standards all hold their ground: a flavorful miso soup with tofu cubes larger than chicken feed; a crisp green salad with a slightly sweet ginger dressing; wasabi shumai (pork dumplings) packing a punch that makes even a wasabi-lover's eyes water with pleasure as the potent root rushes the tear ducts. All good and well presented, but I'm not sold.

The shining star arrives in the form of a firecracker roll. Shrimp tempura cozies up with fresh avocado in a bulky rice-cocoon topped with spicy tuna, crunchy fried sprinkles and tobiko (flying fish roe). What threatens to be an overwhelming onslaught of flavors and textures harmonizes with distinct smooth, crunchy and salty notes. That is, if you can fit the monster in your mouth.

The firecracker's sister, the dynamite roll, confirms that the chef's specials are where Uzu excels. Lump crab and spicy tuna innards are rice-wrapped and layered with strips of tuna and avocado spiked with a dollop of jalapeno sauce. Chef Nguyen isn't afraid to add a real kick--yet the quality of the fish doesn't get lost in the multiple layers.

Some dishes fall a little flat. A $22 entree of seafood teriyaki features scallops that hold most of the sweet teriyaki flavor while their castmates (shrimp, lobster and king crab) are slightly overcooked. The ceviche wrap--a soy-paper burrito of assorted fish coated in olive oil--arrived by mistake. The creamy cut of hamachi (yellowtail), with a melt-in-your-mouth consistency, was undermined by citrus flavors that failed to balance out the bland outer casing.

Choi overheard the mistaken order from behind the sushi bar (I told you it was small), and rushed a complimentary dish of ponzu-bathed seared tuna to the table. Distress was visible on his face as he watched me take my first bite. All was forgiven.

Service can be spotty. On a Friday night a full house found us waiting 30 minutes for the first glass of water, but on an only slightly slower Tuesday evening our waitress didn't miss a beat.

Many dishes hit a few snags--some unnecessary spicy sauce here, a missing sprinkling of sesame seeds there--but the quality of the fish trumped most of them.

Uzu suffers from a common American sushi flaw. Ease of eating takes a back seat to aesthetic presentation, and "bite-sized" pieces are definitely more than a mouthful. However, at these prices ($4 for a tuna roll in Old City), you'd think they make you roll it yourself.

Somehow, the restaurant has found a niche catering to both scenesters and lazy neighborhood residents. Perhaps its unexpected intimacy has filled a void among the neighborhood's tourist-strewn nightspots. Trying to dine anonymously, I was worried after two visits they'd recognize my face.

But I like the idea that eventually they might even remember my name.