Food as Art

Texture. Color. Juxtaposition. Negative space. The structural components of paintings and expertly plated food hold much in common; but if a security guard spotted you tucking in to Van Gogh’s Starry Night, you’d be ousted from the Museum of Modern Art in short order.

Fortunately, the staff of Sushi Yama (Sushi Mountain), does not frown upon such behavior. While this traditional Japanese sushi restaurant has been located on Baton Rouge’s bustling Perkins Road/Essen Lane intersection for seven years, it lies quasi-hidden by virtue of its location in a nondescript strip mall. The restaurant’s humble storefront reflects the personality of its humble head chef and owner Oui. But don’t let simple fool you. This barely-kept Baton Rouge sushi secret is an enclave for quality and craft.

Baton Rouge is home to a healthy selection of sushi restaurants, but diners can attribute their scope and variety to a broad culinary category that gives inventive chefs broad license: in essence, “sushi” refers to a dish made with vinegared rice. From there, the options are almost endless. What better blank canvas than a bed of white rice? But rather than being swept away by untethered possibility, Sushi Yama’s chefs adhere to strong complementary color schemes, pitting reds against greens, yellows against blacks, warm, fleshy tones abutting cool, crisp accents.

With Chilean sea bass, for example, Sushi Yama delivers a vibrant spectacle—warm and saturated. The chef wields an array of cooking techniques and fresh ingredients to achieve his chromatic goals. The sea bass’ bright reddish-orange and black coat is achieved by even, attentive caramelizing with the use of a hand-held blowtorch. The fish, sliced into quarter-inch-thick slivers, sits atop a pedestal of orange-yellow mango and vibrant green asparagus.

And that’s it. The chefs do not unleash a torrent of sauce or butter onto the dish to obscure bland or stale bites. “The sauce should never drown the dish,” insisted Chef Oui. “[Sauce] is meant as a complement.”

Think of the sauce as a sidekick, rather than a disguise. Even the restaurant’s popular Atlantic salmon appetizer, in which fresh-cut Scottish salmon is presented lightly coated with a  soy-lime sauce that enhances the fish rather than masking its robust flavor. And the addition of white truffle oil Hippocratically does no harm.

When talking about food as art, the discussion necessarily stretches beyond the visual components of a beautiful plate. To achieve the simple, albeit vibrant, presentations, the chefs rely on high-quality ingredients and confident craftsmanship.

No slave to efficiency, Chef Oui sources his ingredients from an astonishing array of vendors to be sure that the best-quality product is delivered—even down to the ubiquitous ginger served on the side of the plate. Don’t expect the bright pink ginger found in some restaurants—Sushi Yama eschews the artificial tint in favor of ginger in its natural form. The wasabi, which Oui explained has anti-microbial qualities, is not a horseradish substitute providing a superficial flash of heat; it is the real deal, with a recognizable taste that leaves you eager to smear a dab of the paste on each piece of your sushi roll before skimming it across the soy sauce, resulting in an elegant see-saw of flavor.

The freshness of the fish at Sushi Yama elevates the sushi rolls; but the restaurant’s best platform for its fish is found in the sashimi. Sashimi is a spare dish, just the fish draped across a supporting garnish. Served early in a Japanese meal, when the palate is better able to grasp its subtle textures and flavors, sashimi demands impeccable freshness.

Start with the red snapper; flown in from Japan twice a week, it reflects the restaurant’s dedication to quality over immediacy. Next, a helping of smoked yellowtail. The fish is skinned, cleaned, and sliced fresh each morning at the restaurant; and it sits on ice in a glass case above the sushi bar, unabashedly available for perusal. How’s that for accountability?

We have approached the time where I must admit that I cannot wholly equate an item that is ultimately digested to a painting, priceless or otherwise. Do we want our food to be art? Sure, to the extent that it can be. Beyond that, food must aim to satisfy and nourish.

Sushi Yama succeeds in presenting an artful assortment without divorcing its food from its basic function: simplicity and great taste. But the restaurant is also attentive to how the food is served; at Sushi Yama, service is not a matter of demurely refilled drinks and peppermints for the table. It’s a uniform determination from both the front and back of the house to provide excellent, authentic food, free of gimmicks or self-congratulation.

Each plate presented has a time span. Fresh and warm, its beauty is not in longevity, in centuries of academic discussion and ponderous squints. We don’t dedicate too much time to admiring its waning moments; we eat it. Right then and there.

Sushi Yama

7731 Perkins Road, #120

Baton Rouge, La.

(225) 767-8880 • sushiyamabatonrouge.com