It should be prefaced that before arriving at the restaurant, it was a completely ordinary day. The Midwestern sun did not lecture me too harshly, nor were the children I had just worked with any sort of trouble beyond what was usual. As such, I was not too tired, nor was my stomach demanding food. It was perfect for an honest review of a new restaurant. Well, except I did not do my research and went to Shiki right after my job with children and wore my work shirt and shorts with my beat-up “play tag with me Mr. Austin” shoes. 

Stepping in through the main entrance, right on the corner of 49th and Dodge Streets, the beautiful, cascading pink wisteria flowers above my head should have given me pause to go home and change, but the smile of the hostess was incredibly welcoming. Beyond her, the restaurant was well lit and incredibly neat in every angle and corner. Beautiful wooden floors held light wooden tables under red lanterns, at least until I entered the bar area. 

Bannered low above me were Sakura-tree branches with pink and white flowers, arrayed to be dense enough that it was lovely, fresh, and crisp. Lush is too strong a word: lush makes me think of a jungle or garden. Beyond, yet the ever-blooming Sakura flowers trapped in a moment of time were a black ceiling, and, on the far wall, pressed mirrors which together colluded to both bring the feelings of nearness while also the breadth of someplace vast, and distant. When I sat and pulled out my book to write down my notes, I wrote about the ceiling, “Utterly lovely.”

At the kind recommendation of my server, for an appetizer I ordered the “Shishito Peppers." He said of them, "They aren’t that hot, more tangy.”

When they arrived, they certainly looked hot! A wooden bowl of visibly spiced green-colored peppers? Where was I, in a South Omaha restaurant!? Well, as it turns out, he was right. They were tangy! I wagered that even if someone at a table did not like them, the Shishito peppers went down easy. There was a tiny bit of heat to them, but generally that was only on the Peppers which received the heaviest amount of spice. The dish would be great for people looking for an experience that isn’t the norm.

But from the “fun dish” that was the shishito peppers, I moved into the remarkable. Ordered in part for the review, but also because I have learned the importance of palate cleansers for honest reviews: nigiri is a staple of sushi restaurants. For those who don’t yet know how good some sushi can be (I was one of those nay-sayers two years ago) and have yet to try nigiri, it is usually two bite-sized rice balls with a fresh and very choice cut of meat laid on top, with sometimes a small bit of sauce. One cut of meat is lean, and one is fatty. This one was the ‘Sake Toro,’ made from Atlantic salmon belly.

Grabbing the lean nigiri with my dark wood chopsticks and taking it up to my mouth, eating it reminded me of softness, or if ‘softness’ were a thing, perhaps it would be the morning mist of a lush jungle. Not the ‘lush’ leaves or plants, but the lushness of the dew resting on the leaves. The lean Atlantic salmon-belly cut was of air and water. And the second, fatty piece of nigiri was a rainy sea; rain which has cleaned the air of old smells and brought with it a rebirth over heavy, blue waves. 

Truthfully, it was a perfect palate cleanser. 

Especially for the sushi which I ordered next: the ‘Chef’s Kiss’. Comprised of “yellowtail, spicy crab mix, tuna, shallot, cilantro, serrano peppers, and yuzu ponzu sauce,” it was adorable in its presentation. The tiny peppers sat on the top of each cut of yellowtail, with a bead of sauce on top of that. 

As a lifelong writer, I always try to let my mind be taken away by my sensations, to be pulled by another artist. “Where am I?” I ask my mind, and "What do I feel?”

That sushi roll was the blush of a spicy woman, sat next to a misted sea. We would be sitting next to a dance floor and a bar. The roll was soft and indulgent, yet it had an aftertaste of heat. And though each concurrent bite was always her promise of more heat, there was no stopping it. Going through the roll was akin to an evening fall of grace. The tangy shishito peppers came in to save the day and abate the ordeal I had gotten myself into. Funny enough - for as enjoyable as it was, I had no immediate desire to be put through that again. 

"Why could I not stop?” I had asked myself a moment after I devoured the whole roll. Why I didn’t want to eat another ‘Chef’s Kiss’ had less to do with the fantastic composition and more with where it had taken me. 

Normally at a sushi place I would stop there: one appetizer, one nigiri, one roll. But my heart had been rendered open, and I had suddenly found myself in need of another trip to somewhere far away. Mostly, I stay away from cream cheese (I don’t like the texture), so the next roll I chose was nearly random and based on the fact that it wasn’t made with any. The "PYT,” (Pretty Young Thing), made with "tempura shrimp, crab, togarashi, and ponzu,” looked almost tropical when it was brought to me. Togarashi can be made with ground red chili pepper, toasted sesame seeds, dried orange peel, ginger, nori seaweed, and Sichuan peppercorns. The menu gave no distinction of which of these ingredients would be in it.

Lo, it smelled fresh and rich and strong; it demanded attention with its bright colors and aroma. 

“O’ shit!” was the first thing I said, just as I got the chopsticks into my mouth. (Am I allowed to say that here? Haha!) The PYT roll was unbridled in its exuberance. Free and joyful, like a spirited woman in a wonderful sundress. It was not bashful, nor did she sit quietly. She is unbound; who would challenge you to race through a field of summer flowers and would win by the merit of her passion. Their under banners of pink and white Sakura flowers held in eternal bloom, PYT reminded me of one of my favorite quotes by Junot Díaz: “She was the type of girlfriend that God gives you young, so you’ll know loss all the rest of your life.” 

When I left, I thought about that sushi roll for the rest of the day, and when I woke up on the morrow it was the first thing I wanted (but I am not a savage; I’ll wait a week before going again, this time dressed up). Talking about the research that I didn't do before going in: Shiki focuses on Asian heat in their food. None of what I had was too overpowering, though; not that I would have stopped if it was. Wholeheartedly, I recommend Shiki to the Omaha foodie scene. If you like heat, good sushi, or a resplendent environment, give it a try. Or maybe you too want to see if you can’t be taken away to that race between summer flowers by the PYT. 

Shiki

4900 Dodge Street

Omaha, Nebraska

(402)504-4910

Open Mon-Thurs

11AM-9PM

Friday 11AM-11PM

Saturday 12PM-11PM

Sunday 12PM-9PM

Austin Petak is an aspiring novelist and freelance journalist who loves seeking stories and the quiet passions of the soul. If you are interested in reaching out to him to cover a story, you may find him at austinpetak@gmail.com.