The pursuit of an excellent restaurant began with a conversation I found myself in with a woman. In my awkward way, I said something to make a fool of myself, to try and pull another one of her laughs. The topic came up of my writing profession, and to extend the moment, I asked of her, her favorite places to eat. In reflection, I didn’t realize during the conversations with her that I was trying to survive the pain of the waking of my sleeping heart, roused by the mirth held in her eyes when she laughed. 

Days later, when I spoke to my editor about new articles, the topic of restaurant reviews came up. Usually, before I go to a place, I do a little bit of research and prep-work, but I already knew where I must go: Yoshitomo. Upon looking up directions, I noticed that they seemed almost wholly reservation-only, which meant that I needed to dress in my favorite lavender shirt, with my shiny purple tie and vest.

The sun was setting by the time I arrived in Benson. In the car, my eyes searched the storefronts for a restaurant sign almost fruitlessly, but at the last moment, I saw it:

“Yo!” The broken neon sign of Yoshitomo read.

Just inside the restaurant, I was greeted with what I would consider exceptionally dark lighting; however, the tables all had a soft, well-focused spotlight on their wooden surfaces. Nearly every seat was full, and the din was pleasant. The host sat me at the bar with several other patrons, where we could watch the chefs flip and juggle their knives (just kidding! Haha!) The chefs were experts in their cuts and especially friendly to those at the bar. Even I, who has been told that my resting face is not pleasant, even when I think that I'm smiling. A sweet couple just next to me who had questions about this or that on the menu were engaged for much of the night with one such chef who was able to both engage with them and cook and cut.

For an appetizer, I ordered their “Aburi Wagyu." Comprised of Imperial Wagyu, uni butter, and nikiri soy. While ‘wagyu’ in Japanese means ‘cow,’ Imperial Wagyu is much more expensive, pricey beef. Served on top of little bite-sized groupings of rice, it looked delicious. But, upon eating the first bite (traditionally of leaner Wagyu), I believe that ‘delicious’ markets it as a food, rather than an experience.

Eating it felt like a very short, warm breeze on a day in which the perpetual cold of the overcast day had just been grating. It went and came in a moment that felt like a quick touch of a woman on your shoulder as she passes by. It was disappointing in the way in which you want her to stay just a little longer, to laugh at one more of your jokes before the needs make her go on about her day. The second Aburi Wagyu bite was made with a fatter cut, and it did not feel like that breeze, for it lasted far longer. It was a longer, enduring, warm spring wind.

The next item that the waitress recommended I try was set on the counter before me, the “Kani Miso." Made from snow crab, crab fat, sushi rice, panko, and ikura. In truth, looking at it, I wasn’t sure if it would fill me up. Painted beautifully by its ingredients, of fun orange colors with red salmon eggs (ikura), it was as much a joy to eat.

Before the Edo period in ancient Japan, snow crab was not a particularly fancy ingredient, and instead was eaten by fishermen along the coasts. It felt like I had the breeze of the sea on my face and warm, down-to-earth conversation happening around me. The salmon eggs were their own quench to a thirst I didn’t know I had. The “Kani Miso,” snow crab was more filling than it looked.

Though I was unexpectedly near reaching the point of feeling full, I felt I had a service to anyone who is looking for information on Yoshitomo, so I chose to review sushi for you all. I knew it would be tough, reviewing awesome sushi, but it had to be done, ya know?

The final plate ordered was the “Simba," made of crab, cucumber, avocado, spicy salmon, spicy mayo, and eel sauce. Chosen because I'm a fan of salmon and spice, I went into it not being a regular connoisseur of sushi. In the past, my experiences were never noteworthy, and as such, I was not prepared for what came next.

Arrayed in a line, the sushi was colored like a festival. Looks are often deceiving, though.

Eating the first sushi roll felt like stepping into a summertime tryst, where she inspires warmth, and at her touch, a sear on your skin. The rice was cool, as if she had retreated from the passion, and the small cucumber slice was crunchy and cold when she cut herself off. Spicy, sweet, hot, and cold. Dreams of the distant past beat on my sleeping heart, and I ate the next, like a true tryst. I could not stop, and each bite was a cycle of the emotions from the beginning again, as if she had come back, only to leave again.

The “Simba,” sushi at Yoshitomo was, like the dreams of the past, resplendent.

The owner of the restaurant, David Utterback, is a four-time semi-finalist for the James Beard Award (one of the most prestigious honors that a chef or restaurant can acquire in the United States). Further doing my research on Yoshitomo afterwards, I wasn’t surprised to see many articles speaking on how it is the best sushi spot in Omaha, and perhaps one of the best in all of the United States.

With Yoshitomo’s dark interior and softly lit tables, all one would need would be a person sitting opposite them, and the rest of the world would cease to exist. So far, it might be the best spot in Omaha that I have found to take another on a date; a parallel, midnight place with salmon and snow crab.

Austin Petak is an aspiring novelist and freelance journalist who loves seeking stories and the quiet passions of the soul. If you are interested in reaching out to him to cover a story, you may find him at austinpetak@gmail.com.