An Ode to Kusaki: Where Plants Become Culinary Masterpieces - CLOSED Only the good die young

Just back a few months ago from a culinary odyssey through Kyoto—a month of Michelin-starred delights and $8 hidden gems that had me grinning ear to ear—I thought my palate was untouchable. Yet Kusaki, tucked away in Santa Monica, managed to astonish me. If there’s a PhD in vegan innovation, consider me a rockstar professor emeritus.

This isn’t just plant-based food; it’s a movement. I brought a friend along for the ride and didn’t let him in on the vegan secret until midway through the fourth course. His jaw dropped so hard you’d think he’d seen a ghost. But here’s the thing: Kusaki isn’t trying to imitate animal products. It’s about celebrating the artistry of plants—and what Pearl Steffie does with them deserves a standing ovation.

Stop Complaining, Start Appreciating

Let’s address the naysayers who moan about the prices and speed of service. Newsflash: This isn’t a burger drive-thru. It’s a culinary symphony. Each dish is handcrafted to perfection, and frankly, they could charge more just to keep the riffraff out. Kusaki is delivering Michelin-level cuisine at jaw-droppingly reasonable prices.

Steffie is crafting a revolution, transforming a humble strip mall into a stage for food performance art. Mark my words: this isn’t just for the insiders. Kusaki is poised to take over the culinary world.

What to Order: A Glimpse into Greatness

· · ·Every dish here is a masterpiece, but let me give you a preview of what awaits:· · ·

•Sesame Tofu: A delicate dance of tofu, sesame oil, miso paste, brown sugar, and ponzu, topped with microgreens.

•Portobello Fries: Tempura with a Kyoto twist, served with yuzu kosho aioli and togarashi.

•Maitake Wonton: A savory medley of maitake mushrooms, napa cabbage, and chili garlic sauce.

And then there’s the sushi, which redefines the genre:

•Salmon Nigiri: Ponzu, lemon juice, pickled wasabi, truffle oil—each bite is a revelation.

•Seared Tuna Nigiri: Crispy onions meet ponzu perfection.

•Watermelon Granita Nigiri: Yes, watermelon. And yes, it works.

The Faux Steak? Divine. Chunk Foods’ base with buttery mashed potatoes and a luscious sauce that feels indulgent but is entirely plant-based.

Just back from a month in Kyoto — thirty days of Michelin stars and $8 hidden gems that recalibrated every assumption about what food could be — and a vegan restaurant in Santa Monica managed to astonish.

The first course arrives: a ceramic bowl the color of storm clouds, holding what appears to be tuna tartare. The texture is exact — the give of raw fish, the mineral brightness, the way it breaks against the tongue. It is watermelon. Compressed, marinated, transformed at a molecular level into something that honors the original while becoming entirely new. The friend across the table — a committed carnivore — doesn't know yet. That's the experiment.

Kusaki operates at the intersection of technique and philosophy. This is not the apologetic veganism of substitution — the sad burger, the rubbery cheese, the constant genuflection to the thing it's trying to replace. This is cuisine that starts from the plant and asks: what can this become? The answer, across eight courses, is: anything. The mushroom dashi has more umami depth than most bone broths. The cashew cream has been fermented to a sharpness that would fool a Parisian fromager.

The reveal comes at course four. The friend's fork pauses mid-air. "Wait — this is all plants?" The expression that follows is not surprise. It's recalibration. The same expression you see when someone's worldview shifts by one degree — small enough to be comfortable, large enough to be permanent.

Kusaki closed. Only the good die young. But the proof of concept lives in the memory of every plate.