Food

Omakase by Gino

By JENNIFER TANAKA |Coast Magazine | Orange County Register

PUBLISHED: October 16, 2019

After watching “Jiro Dreams of Sushi,” I fell in love.

My infatuation wasn’t with chef Jiro or with sushi per se. But, for the first time, I, like many Americans, understood the artistry, the years of painstaking apprenticeship required to become a real sushi chef. The movie also illustrated that great food can come from anywhere: Even an unassuming hole-in-the-wall sushi counter located in a bustling Tokyo subway station could be Michelin star-worthy if the chef cooked from the heart and executed the dishes with precision.

An evening at OMG – Omakase by Gino in downtown Santa Ana – will remind you that this is true. This level of artistry is alive and thriving in Orange County.

Chef Gino’s nondescript destination has been open for less than a year and it’s amassed an underground cult following. Reservations are booked out until December.

At OMG everything is stripped down. The setting feels like a secret hideaway. The wooden sushi bar was painstakingly built by Gino himself. His hands shaped the wood and sanded down the planks. He polished them for hours until they were to his liking. Gino is a tinkerer. He figured out how to wire his lighting and grows fresh herbs for his restaurant in his garden at home.

He is also an avid Angels fan. Bobbleheads of Mike Trout, Shohei Ohtani and about a half dozen other players are perched on a shelf above his station like ornamental idols. The bobbleheads watch down on Gino as he slices and plates each dish as if it were a good luck charm. They nod slightly with approval when he briskly slams his lowboy refrigerator. And smile down as the diners devour each bite.

Because the chef-driven restaurant hinges on Gino being there (it closes if he’s sick or takes a day off), the day of the Ohtani bobblehead giveaway he gave the busboy an unusual assignment: “I bought a ticket and I had him go for me to get the bobblehead,” says Gino with a smile. “He got to enjoy the game, too.”

Gino dreams that one day, one of the Angels might eat at his restaurant. (He hopes it’s Ohtani.) “It would be a great honor.”

As he says this, the chef’s eyes twinkle behind his dark rimmed glasses. He slightly adjusts his bandana fashioned as a headscarf. Gino’s humble uniform resembles the attire of a busboy or a dishwasher more than a typical sushi chef. Yet, when watching Gino at work you can’t help but marvel at his graceful strokes. He slices through slabs of Japanese kampachi as if they were softened butter. He plates the fish with focus as if he were blessing each slice with a short prayer. He presents his offerings before each guest as if they were delicate gifts. As Gino describes the dishes, he smiles from his eyes. Fatty tuna with delicate shishito pepper sumiso and toro dotted with caviar then topped with freshly shaved black truffles. A mustard-tinged shishito pepper purée accompanies a cube of fatty tuna slightly torched to a beautiful rare before your eyes.

Sushi chefs are part showmen and part artists. They transform the flesh of a fish into an ornamental expression of life. Their vision emerges on a plate only to be consumed in mere seconds. Some are designed as a single bite, fleeting moments of beauty. But, those flavors resonate with your taste buds, they continue to dance around your memories, lingering with you for the rest of your life. Isn’t that the stuff dreams are made of?