Roll In

WALKING IN FROM the chilly dark of downtown Portland to the
clean bright dining room of Mika Sushi has an invigorating effect. The
exuberant greeting received from the staff is by itself enough to
surprise someone from their dim autumn torpor, and by the time you’re
seated at the sushi bar in a comfortable high-backed chair, your senses
seem sharper, your mind more awake. You feel in fact ready to eat large
quantities of fish and rice in all of their myriad combinations, and
that’s a good thing.

Mika’s menu is extensive, and though much of it is nigiri (fish over hand-formed rice), maki (rolls), and temaki (hand rolls), there is also a good selection of appetizers,
entrées, udon, soba, and bento boxes. You could eat at Mika
again and again without ever having to repeat yourself. Over the course
of my meals, I was never disappointed with what came across the bar.
Every piece of fish was skillfully prepared and well presented. I found
each easy bite-sized piece to be balanced and flavorful.

An appetizer of baked green clams is wonderful, with its liberal
coating of spicy mayonnaise and sprinkle of green onions over
still-tender clams, sliced into thin strips in their shell. Also, a
whole tempura soft-shell crab hits the spot, though may surprise some,
arriving at the table crisp, simply quartered, with claws raised, and
two dots of Sriracha for eyes (a whimsical, if bizarre touch).

The nigiri is particularly pleasant and thoughtfully portioned. Each
piece offers a mouthful that is satisfying but not overwhelming.
There’s precision in the melding of the rice and fish, allowing the
full flavor of each selection to be experienced—this is not
slapdash sushi. Of note on the nigiri side is a particularly delicious
unagi. Served warm, it has a wonderful balance between rice and fish
glazed in a slightly tangy sauce that’s equally salty and sweet. Two
pieces is not enough. A second order is necessary.

Mika rests comfortably somewhere between train-style dives and
high-end places like Murata and Bamboo Sushi. Like the sushi trains,
there are plenty of priced-right American-style rolls (California,
caterpillar, etc.). At the same time, Mika is chef-driven by a skilled
and chatty proprietor, referred to only as “Sushi Chef Cameron” by his
staff, who is more than happy to showcase his skill in more traditional
preparations, like fatty toro nigiri served Aburi style
(slightly seared). It’s a delight to sit at the bar on a quiet evening
(lunches are consistently busy) and listen to him talk about his knife,
his customers, and how he buys his fish.

During the day, Mika loses some of its nighttime charm and
practically doubles its staff. The bar becomes a buzz of activity, with
Cameron occasionally throwing gruff, impatient comments at his servers.
While the food is still good, and the fish still fresh, it lacks a
certain oomph—a quality I suspect is lost to necessity of
speed.

Mika could become my regular sushi stop. It’s exactly the kind of
sushi you want when you have a craving and would rather not wait in
line or pay an arm and a leg. Is it the best? No, it’s not. Is it a
value? Certainly. Just what you need when you need sushi.