Sushi Nara

There is a particular kind of confidence in a chef who opens a six-seat counter in a quiet residential pocket of Zushi (逗子) rather than chasing the foot traffic of Tokyo or Yokohama. Koike Akihiro spent more than ten years apprenticing in the capital's respected rooms before stepping away in 2019 to build something of his own a short walk from the water. The result is small, deliberate, and rooted in a single idea: that the sushi of this stretch of coast should taste of Sagami-wan (相模湾), the bay that opens just beyond the door.

That idea is the counter's claim to chi-no-ri (地の利) — the advantage of place. Three or four local species find their way into each course, treated with the shime and nikiri discipline of an Edomae education but pointed unmistakably at the local catch. This is not a counter trying to be Ginza in the suburbs; it is a chef arguing, plate by plate, that "Zushi sushi" is its own thing worth crossing a prefecture for. Expect a single seating, a high proportion of nigiri, and the unhurried air of a residential street where the room fills with people who came only to eat.

At ¥21,000 the omakase sits comfortably within a sushi traveler's budget, with room left for sake even after a glass or two — confirm the final figure and any service charge at booking. The six seats and the closeness of the counter make for an intimate evening; photographers will find the distances flattering, though the policy is worth a phone call first.

The honest caveats are two. Photography is unconfirmed — reviewers post dish photos, which suggests it is tolerated in practice, but nothing official says so, and the booking script in our guides exists for exactly this question. And with only forty-eight Tabelog reviews behind its Hyakumeiten (百名店) 2025 selection, the statistical picture of consistency is still thin. Zushi is also a little over an hour from central Tokyo; treat the journey as part of the meal, the way you would a counter chosen for its sea rather than its address.