Review: Blue Coast Is One of Vancouver’s Most Exciting New Sushi Spots

Blue Coast Japanese Seafood Cuisine, a new seafood and raw bar kissing the border of Vancouver and Burnaby, has been quietly open for just a week when I get a hankering for a new sushi experience—but, despite it being only mid-week, it’s already impossible to get parking.

As a born-and-bred Vancouverite, a craving to try the city’s most popular cuisine is certainly not rare for me. Quite frankly, I know I’m spoiled for options when it comes to the Japanese canon. With some spots, I’m there for a casual roll, some sashimi and a killer miso soup; with others—like Kitsilano’s Eatery—I’m there for the imaginative fusion rolls (such as sizzling eel and avocado wrapped in rice, all topped with deep-fried banana), but I already know I’m in for something special at Blue Coast.

A Buzzy New Room Near the Vancouver-Burnaby Border

On Vanness Avenue at Ormidale Street, the corner restaurant is packed and buzzing as theatrical sushi rolls whizz past. Think: raw rolls with billowing plumes of dry-ice smoke, or an unagi dish set on a grate over burning charcoal that still torches the bottom of the roll as it arrives at the table.

General manager Stella Dimova manages to squeeze my husband and I into the cacophonous room without a reservation (a recurring theme for me, whoops), finding us a spot at an intimate two-seater along a bench, with views of the tree-lined street out the window. The bench is upholstered in a vibrant metallic blue, and splayed out on the table are menus wrapped in coloured leather—slate blue, navy and beige. (On a repeat visit a month later, I learn that the tri-colour scheme is meant to represent the palette of the Okinawan shoreline: ocean blue, sky blue and a tawny sand. Hence: blue coast.)

Playing up the coastal vibe of the restaurant is a selection of house cocktails, including the signature Blue Coast Wave ($13) made with vodka, blue curacao, tart lemonade and fresh mint poured over crushed ice, delivering the feel of an elevated beachside slushie (with spirits, of course).

Dry Ice, Drama and Strong Technique

Still, it’s the dramatic presentation of dishes that grabs my attention. The Signature Sky Cloud salmon noodles ($25), developed by chef Su Young Kim, arrive shrouded in dry ice smoke. Strips of cured sashimi “noodles” hang from a T-bar, with two bowls of marinade beneath: a salty soy dashi and a spicy but cold kimchi broth. The noodles are meant to soak rather than dip; I let them sit while moving on to other plates.

Kim and a few members of the crew (including Dimova) hail from Coal Harbour’s Michelin-recommended Miku (others from Brass Fish and the Victor)—which explains the masterful execution of the menu.

The aburi wagyu oshi, for example, melts on the tongue. Lightly torched strips of wagyu beef are drizzled with a creamy zigzag of truffle sauce, pressed on top of tangy, sticky sushi rice in the akazu style: a naturally fermented presentation that is traditional in omakase-style dining. The fermented, perfectly moist pressed rice lies underneath a selection of sashimi—expertly sliced cuts of madai, blue fin tuna and hamachi give way to a fresh-from-the-sea but surprisingly buttery mouthfeel, while wagyu, foie gras and unagi provide a heartier taste. All of which, by the way, are available as part of the premium omakase nigiri set ($78).

The Seafood Tower Is the Main Event

As much as I’m enjoying the omakase nigiri experience, my salmon “noodles” are calling from their marinades, and it’s finally time for my husband and I to dive in. I pull the tendrils of fish from their marinating pools and slurp them up, the salty sauce hitting my chin. The noodles are both chewy and tender, a delicate dance of technique and ingredients creating something entirely new.

For me, the true pièce de résistance is the two-tiered seafood tower ($75). Once again, dry ice vapour spills dramatically over crushed ice platters. As it clears, the two-person spread is revealed: on top, there are scallop ceviche “shooters” served on the shell, sashimi arranged on a slate of ice, plump jumbo prawns and delicate crab meat; below are oysters, lightly seared tuna tataki, viscous spicy tako wasabi (packing a punch of umami) and two pressed medallions of rich, velvety ankimo—monkfish liver, also known as “the foie gras of the sea.”

Elsewhere, a seafood tower of this calibre might set you back more than a C-note, so I have to wonder if there was a typo on the menu. Not so, assures Dimova as she clears our plates and asks about our plans for dessert. We opt to keep things simple and go for two single scoops of ice cream ($5 each): a bright, rich mango drizzled with sauce, and an earthy, flecked black sesame scoop, decorated by a single taro crisp.

A New Regular-Rotation Sushi Spot

Our conversation on the (admittedly long) walk back to the car is punctuated by proclamations of our highlights of the night: what each of us loved, what we wanted more of, the theatrical dry ice dishes! The sentiment between my friends on my second visit is the same: excitement, wonder and hatching a game plan for our next dinner here. In a city rich with options for sushi, Blue Coast Japanese Seafood Cuisine has earned a spot in in my regular rotation—and I know I won’t even mind circling the block a few times to snag a place to park.

Blue Coast Japanese Seafood Cuisine
3670 Vanness Ave.
dinebluecoast.ca

More From Vanmag

• Our Editors Draft the Best Sushi in Vancouver
• A Guide to the City’s Best Omakase
• Hoshi Sushi at The Sandbar Is a Hidden Gem for Omakase
• The Review: Sumibiyaki Arashi Elevates the Yakitori Experience