Mr. Nobu's Sushiya
6709 E. 81st St., Suite B
Going into Mr. Nobu’s Sushiya (or “sushi shop”), newly opened in a shopping center at 81st and Sheridan, I knew the restaurant was inspired but not owned or designed by the godfather of Tulsa’s sushi, Nobu Terauchi, who opened the legendary and first of its kind Fuji Sushi Bar here in the '80s. Longtime Tulsans, especially on Facebook food review groups, mourn Fuji’s closure with regularity since it shuttered in early 2024.
I never experienced it, but even so, thanks to that other Nobu, the name itself sets the sushi bar high. Still, I expected maybe a slightly different version of the city’s plentiful tasty but unfocused Japanese-ish menus, which are expansive and diplomatic if not terribly specialized. Immediately upon seeing Mr. Nobu’s sign, I could tell that the restaurant was determined to buck my expectations.
Above the nondescript entrance, the maracas on the sign for the Chimi’s next door sit directly and somewhat ominously over the word “Sushiya.” Inside, there’s a massive “のぶさん” (Japanese hiragana for Nobu-san, or Mr. Nobu) lighting up an entire wall. I watched the minuscule dining room for several minutes before realizing that it wasn’t the entire restaurant: there are two kitchen and staff areas obscured by black curtains, and the (alcohol) bar and bathrooms are shared with the neighboring Chimi’s and accessible by a push-button sliding door. I appreciate the sensible functionality of this overlap, though the whiff of Tex-Mex on the way to the bathroom killed my vibe just a little.
The sushi bar itself is hidden behind a wall panel. I sat next to the entrance during an early dinner, and I didn’t know it was there until I saw a server disappear into the wall next to me.
I’m not exactly a shokunin myself (I tend more toward “unfocused” and “not terribly specialized” than to artisanal expertise a la Jiro), but I firmly believe that the larger a restaurant menu, the more clunkers it contains. I prefer when a chef knows what they’re trying to do before they start doing it. The Mr. Nobu’s menu, to my great joy, is concise. There is no conciliatory ramen or teriyaki—just starters, salads, and sushi, including a nice selection of house specialty dishes, nigiri and sashimi, and some goofily named and over-the-top rolls. The apple falls far from the Chimi’s, but not that far.
Before ordering, we were served what I’ll call an amuse-bouche (read: free) and not an otoshi (which is a Japanese amuse-bouche, but they charge you for it), a small dish of smashed, pickled cucumber in a spicy ponzu sauce. It was crunchy, salty, and a pleasant alternative to edamame, which is nice, but I don’t like starting my meal with a pile of husks.
We had the beef sashimi starter: thin slices of tenderloin, not raw (in fact, cooked to a bummer shade of gray), topped with ginger, garlic, yuzu, slices of Thai chile, and both nira (garlic chives) and sliced scallion, served with a bowl of plain white rice. A more cowardly chef could’ve blended all these things into the soy-based sauce, but instead, the slivered ginger and chunky Thai chile changed the dynamic of every bite with each chew. It was spicy without looking spicy at all, which is sneaky. Afterward, the server recommended pouring the remaining sauce over the rice to finish it off, and we did, and I also recommend this.