Sushi Kozy

Sushi Kozy runs a kaiseki menu that refuses to sit still. Half the meal is nigiri, and it's the real thing — clean, precise, built for people who came for sushi and won't be talked out of it. The other half breaks format entirely: a scallop tart that reads as pure raw technique, then a hunk of venison with a peppery crust so well built it could pass for barbecue. That whiplash between raw and cooked, quiet and bold, is the whole point, and it works because nothing on either side feels like filler.

The name is a pun on the chef's own — Ko, made cozy — and the room commits to the joke. Warm lighting, earth tones, a counter for watching the knife work and a dining room for people who'd rather talk to each other. Order the bottle, not the glasses. This is a meal meant to be shared slow.

Michelin has already put Sushi Kozy on its list, and local recognition has followed. Neither is the reason to go. The reason is a tasting menu that moves at a pace lesser kaiseki rooms in this city can't match, and lands every course it attempts.