Upon entering Osaka, Middletown’s new Japanese steakhouse and sushi bar, I was immediately disappointed with the interior décor. While it indeed succeeds in its obvious quest for the quasi-edgy look of a Japanese steakhouse curiously located in an industrial park, the stereotypical table arrangements and unexciting furniture cast the aesthetic experience into the realm of the conventional. The hibachi table near the entrance seemed crowded, although the buzz of excitement created by live cooking at one’s seat forgave the cramped quarters. But I didn’t come for the environment, I came for the food, so I took a table downstairs and began browsing the menu for fun-sounding Japanese beer.

I was fortunate enough to sample a variety of dishes, starting with a healthy selection of appetizers (my favorite category on any menu) of which there were two categories: hot and cold. The gyoza, traditional Japanese pan fried dumplings, were nothing special. I would imagine that you could get the same for less at a restaurant with a shorter waiting list for reservations. The tempura was massively disappointing; the usually delicate and crunchy batter was thick and lacked the subtle crispness that separates the best tempura from the banal, or in this case, the somewhat soggy. The final appetizer, beef tataki, however, almost immediately made up for the other two. These small, thin slivers of raw beef topped with caviar and drenched in a vinegar-based sauce were beautifully arranged on a plate, and luckily, there was enough to eat so that I forgot about the tempura. The tataki is a must-try for anyone willing to eat meat that has not been cooked, and, as Osaka is a sushi restaurant, you should resolve yourself to just such a thing.

The time left between courses was ideal, since I began to wonder where my entrée was just as it was being carried out to my table. The waitress kindly put the plate down in front of me, smiled, and disappeared for the rest of the meal.

I tried three entrees from different areas of the menu, despite the fact that the wide and interesting range of sushi begged a larger portion from its store. I must preface these next paragraphs with the regret that I did not try more of the sushi, although this hindsight should become apparent to the reader. The chicken and shrimp teriyaki were unspeakably average – an experiment in mediocrity. I ate sukiyaki for the first time: vegetables and beef in a fish broth with noodles. I was pleasantly surprised by the broth, which resisted the oft-told story of an overpowering fish taste. All in all these two dishes were not at all ambitious and a tad bland (more so for the teriyaki), and I would not recommend them.

The star of the show was the chirashi, which is the traditional method of serving sushi; that is, unwrapped steaks of raw fish served over a bed of rice. Biting into the tuna steak was like tasting an expertly prepared fish flavored steak: the taste of butter made itself apparent despite its certain absence; the consistency of the fish was soft but not mushy; and the “fishy” flavor that comes with fish that has aged past its prime was entirely absent. I was sure I was eating fish, but the experience was something new with traces of the old in its lingering aftertaste. If you have not eaten raw fish in this form, I insist you try it immediately, as it runs circles around what I have become used to calling sushi.

While all of the raw foods I ate were excellent, I cannot resist the urge to complain about some tributary issues at the restaurant. First, the beer selection was meek, although the warm sake I helped myself to after the meal was quite good. Second, the restaurant gave me the feeling of a nightclub a few times throughout the meal, with wait staff literally sprinting from wall to wall, loud conversations, and call me a purist, but the language of choice by the restaurant staff was not Japanese, but Chinese. The service was mildly attentive and less than helpful, but adequate.

In short, if you go to Osaka, don’t let them cook anything for you, and you’ll enjoy your meal. Stay away from potentially hackneyed dishes, and drink plenty of Kirin beer, because God knows you don’t want to be seen with a Sam Adams next to your miso.

– Price Range: 8-14 dollars for dinner entrees, 6-10 for lunch.
– Reservations: Recommended for Friday and Saturday nights.
– Three out of five stars.