Word: fugakyu
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Dates: during 2002-2002
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...name is funny. There is simply no getting around it. And it makes for some interesting conversations. What did you did tonight? “Fugakyu.” What the hell did you just say to me? “No, no—Fugakyu.” An innocent meal at a Japanese restaurant can, it seems, set you up for a beating. But what a meal. In fact, if an insulted, drunken acquaintance had decided to kill me after I ate at Fugakyu Saturday night, I would have died a happy—if bloated?...
...sushi at Fugakyu, nestled snugly in the heart of picturesque Brookline, is phenomenal. For students who have not ventured beyond the leaden-fingered offerings at Shilla and the microscopic portions at the pride of Cambridge’s Futon District, Roka, it is time to upgrade. It is surprisingly hard to get to Fugakyu from Harvard —over an hour on the T—but it is well worth befriending, dating or marrying someone with a car solely for easier access to the best sushi in Boston...
...throughout. Diners can choose to sit at small second-floor tables overlooking video screens of traditional Japanese images or at comfortably exclusive first-floor booths for parties of at least four. Friendly waitresses attend, clad in traditional kimonos. Yet despite the heady atmosphere, food is the real star at Fugakyu...
Tuna appears again in the form of toro sushi, an extra fatty version of the fish, highly prized in Japan for its supple texture, served over rice with a hint of wasabi. Sushi is all about the quality of the raw materials, and the toro at Fugakyu was as fresh as could be. Giant clam sushi, however, billed as the special of the day, was repellent and the one misfire of the night. It tasted like a gargantuan, fishy belly button...