After four consecutive days of 11+ hours in a car, I finally made it to San Diego. I was staying in the beautiful La Jolla, an area where the shops make Bloomingdale’s look like a five and dime, and where the average income is higher than I can count. Tired, hungry, and unwilling to shower or even change out of sweats, I needed spot where my frumpy ensemble wouldn’t get me treated like a leper. As I rounded the corner from the local Maserati dealership (adjacent to the Ferrari Dealership) I saw this guy with a sign for Fugu’s Sushi and Wok – cheap drinks and sushi, I’d found my place.
Being a Pittsburgh transplant you might expect me to say that this moderately priced sushi platter beat even the best that Pitt has to offer – that wasn’t the case, but I didn’t think it would. However, I also did not think it would be this good. All of the pieces were beyond acceptable, with a good ratio of fish to properly prepared sushi rice. The albacore, sea bass, and scallop were standouts. I was also a big fan of the additional sweet tamago, and sunomonu salad (seaweed, cucumber, crabstick).
When I visited, it appeared the younger chef on the right was still being trained by Fugu’s seasoned vet on the left. These two paid a lot of attention to detail, and obviously knew what they were doing, I’ll get names on the next visit.