It wasn't -- wasn't new, wasn't wonderful, was brown. It was just old, oxidized tuna, probably no worse than the stuff you'd find in an off-brand can on the shelf of a dollar store. But not toro, not good, and not really edible. Not even as cat food.
Those two selections, the ebi and the toro, illustrated another problem with fusion sushi: While fusion gives a kitchen the freedom to meld two great cooking styles, it also gives a kitchen twice the odds of messing them up.
Sean O'Keefe
Raw ambition: Hapa Sushi serves up hot ambience,
but fails on cold fish.
Location Info
1220 Pennsylvania Ave.
Boulder, CO 80302
Category: Closed
Region: Boulder
Details
2780 East Second
Avenue
303-322-9554
Hours: 11:30 a.m.-10 p.m. Monday-Wednesday
11:30
a.m.-11 p.m. Thursday-Saturday
Closed Sunday
Miso soup: $1.50
Edamame:
$3
Shake: $4.25
Tekka:
$4.50
Orgasm roll:
$8.95
69 roll: $10.50
Moo
Moo roll: $7.95
Ebi nigiri (two
pieces): $3.80
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On subsequent visits -- and trying to block the faux toro from my memory -- I actually came to like Hapa, but only under very strict conditions. As long as I walked through the doors not looking for sushi, for example, and stuck with the odder, more signature creations, ordering things that looked like sushi, were plated and served like sushi, but weren't really sushi at all, it was okay. I could have eel and cucumber and cream cheese mixed together (the Tootsie roll), or shrimp tempura, crab and rice doodled with ropes of cream sauce (the 69 roll), and some of it would be good and some of it would just be weird. Or I could walk in like a novice -- like a guy who knew absolutely nothing about sushi -- and put myself in the hands of the incredibly friendly and helpful staff, asking what was good and what was fresh and who the hell would want to eat octopus, anyway? They'd keep me firmly within the bounds of the menu's "amateurs" section, where I could content myself with simple yellowtail and salmon maki, veggie rolls, California rolls and big bowls of edamame (soybean pods) more addictive than potato chips.
You want centuries of refinement and technical skill filtered through the fat, greasy lens of American extreme cuisine? This is the place. You want multicultural fusion? Step right in. Lots of crab and cream cheese? Done and done. But gleaming steel, techno grooves and Multiple Orgasms aside, it's the sushi that matters at a sushi bar, and if you're looking for your first taste of toro or a nibble of something truly special, Hapa may not make you happy.