The Review: Sumibiyaki Arashi Elevates the Yakitori Experience

Certain trends seem to cast a spell upon the culinary world, and Vancouver continues to be bewitched by omakase. The city has been abuzz with thoughtfully curated dinner experiences that feel like they’re made just for you, from Masayoshi’s calm and focused parade of ingredient-driven plates to Tojo’s legendary dishes to Okeya Kyujiro’s theatrical-yet-authentic Edomae sushi. The chef laying down plate after plate in front of you while you ooh and ah over the sheer brilliance of the pairings and plating and delicate bites—it creates a feeling of personalization, a magical extra touch that makes the visit feel so special.

But omakase is not really about what you want at all. It’s in the name (“chef’s choice”), after all. And at Sumibiyaki Arashi, the newly opened omakase eatery in Mount Pleasant, chef Peter Ho doesn’t just have control over the menu: he commands fire.

The restaurant itself has a small footprint, with only 14 seats. No matter where you dine, you’re close to the action. And here is the action you can expect: Chef Ho wields a fan while flipping yakitori on a churning charcoal grill throughout the night, turning away from the flame to lacquer plump chicken hearts or to explain that the nikiri soy sauce and ponzu sauce are made in house. While the arresting nature of flame and the decadence of using the whole bird can feel like spectacle, at its heart Sumibiyaki Arashi is an exercise in making expertise look far easier than it truly is.

Sixteen courses arrive one after another. Glistening, fire-kissed fish swimming in ponzu; pickled vegetables, crunchy and somewhat sweet; a skewer of chicken thigh brushed with the house tare, its skin taut and singed from its time over the flame; a broth (called chicken paitan soup) that’s creamy on the palate and reminiscent of tonkotsu: all are a demonstration of elegant simplicity. There’s a harmony to the order of the dishes, where the crisp skin of a just-right morsel of chicken leads into silky soup. Australian wagyu breaks up the revelatory poultry experience, served in a (delicate, demure even) glass bowl.

Hearts are not everyone’s cup of tea (neither are the later-served quail eggs, or even later chicken knee) but here they’re treated with authority—served upon a skewer like most of the dishes—with no handholding, no babying… this charcoal-grilled gem is just as relevant to the dining experience as the fried and grilled tofu that’s to follow. But it’s decadent, too. Not in a fussy way, but, like caviar upon a house-made potato chip, it’s rich and domineering but also snackable and delicate. It’s special and approachable and everything I’ve ever wanted an organ to taste like all at once. The tare used to season the hearts and their fellow skewers is from Chef Ho’s master chef, Yoshiteru Ikegawa (chef and owner of Tokyo’s Torishiki)—it’s 30 years old and topped off daily. The tare is time-honed and legendary in its own right. It has the power to make something that’s possibly out of your element into a moreish bite.

That’s the secret here, in the little house of smoke that Chef Ho has built: you never feel out of place, but boy do you feel like you’ve been invited into a special world of flavour and flame. Where skewers weave through bouncy tsukune that shimmer unapologetically with chicken fat, where yuzu-kosho-topped drumettes are masterfully butterflied, where chawanmushi arrives jiggling and rich with red crab, and where seasoning is a blend of moshio (seaweed salt) from Hiroshima and fine sea salt from Ehime. You’re at once out of your depth and knee-deep in culinary adventure.

And when you think you’re done, a bowl of chicken soboro rice is served, a golden yolk glistening in the centre. A light broth is brought to mix it with, and suddenly it feels like everything was approachable after all. It was never too lofty, and Chef Ho and his team have guided you the whole way through.

Though there’s an innate craving to experience Sumibiyaki Arashi as a spectacle, to pull out my phone and TikTokify the whole meal, the true charm is in being in the moment, understanding that Chef Ho has carefully harnessed flame for very few over the night—and oh, how truly luxurious that feels.

THE DEETS
363 E Broadway
Open for dinner Tuesday through Saturday