KEN

KEN hides behind an unmarked door on Divisadora, in a room barely bigger than a waiting area, with seven seats wrapped around a counter and nowhere to be but present. That scale is the whole point. The chef works close enough to crack jokes mid-course, the couple next to you is talking about paint colors, and somehow none of it breaks the spell of the fish arriving in front of you. It reads like a dinner party that happens to be one of the best meals in the city.

The sashimi carries the night, course after course moving with a rhythm that never slackens across the full omakase progression. Nothing here is precious or stiff. The informality is deliberate, and it works because the fish underneath the banter is genuinely excellent, course to course, no dip in the middle.

Michelin selected KEN in its 2026 guide, which tracks with what the room already knows. Seven seats means demand outstrips space, and that scarcity is earned rather than manufactured. Get in however you can.