Every city needs its secrets. A secret history. A secret speakeasy or − in Cincinnati's case − a secret subway tunnel. Secrets are what give a city an air of mystery, a little adventure and something to discover.
Which brings me to Roji, the "secret" sushi spot that James Beard semifinalist Hideki Harada opened in 2024 in the back alley behind his Court Street lunch spot, Daruma. The sushi is served omakase (oh-mah-KAH-seh) style, which means there's no menu. You simply leave it up to the chef to serve you excellent seasonal ingredients, often with a flare of artistry.
Omakases have been making waves in the Midwest for years now, but at the risk of undermining my credibility as a food writer, I was still relatively new to its particulars before
my two visits to Roji. I'm still no expert, but I can at least tell you what to expect when you go.
And yes, you should go.
Your experience will go something like this: You will make an online reservation in the morning – they start taking them at 6 a.m., and there are only eights seats, so the earlier you log on, the better. That said, I was able to snag a last-minute solo reservation on a Wednesday night (and no, I didn't use my Enquirer pull to get it). Each seat costs $115, which includes 12 courses, but does not include taxes, tip or drinks. You can also make a reservation for lunch, which includes three pieces of nigiri and three hand rolls for $35.
Once you arrive Downtown, you will search for the red door located down Prior Street, a smelly back alley that might make you wonder if you're in the right place. Don't worry, once you find the door and hit the metal entry button, it opens to a room that's surgically clean and odor-free.
Most of the customers arrive in parties of two. On my first visit, I went with my wife, but I was one of two lone diners when I arrived for my second visit. You will be handed a warm towel to wash your hands and it will make you feel pampered and richer than you really are. You will order a Japanese cocktail or beer or wine. I started with a Four Roses on the rocks because I was stressed that I might end up in an awkward conversation with the stranger sitting closely next to me and determined to be downright charming if I did.
Your water glass will be replenished countless times. The person behind the sushi counter (on both visits, it was Mike) will introduce himself and tell you what's in store. You will also be encouraged to ask questions. "Don't worry. We're pretty nice," Mike said.
The music at Roji plays on a turntable, the record determined by the chef or his/her assistant. On my second visit, an assistant named Nick was playing Akiko Yano. The album cover, which was on display, showed her in a red jumpsuit balancing a dolphin over her shoulder. I later learned she is considered the Kate Bush of Japan.
Many of the courses include a single, one-bite selection of nigiri meant to be eaten with your hands, though chopsticks are provided. The key is to savor it. And when I say savor it, I mean you need to think of those firm, glistening bites of fish as something sacred. Consider where they came from and the miracle of mass transport that allowed them to arrive on the plate before you. Most of the fish is shipped overnight from the Toyosu Market in Tokyo, which means what's in season in Tokyo is what's in season at Roji.
Mike, or whoever is manning the counter, will tell you everything you need to know about each piece of fish and how it is prepared as he hand rolls sticky rice into tiny taco shapes behind the counter. I recommend listening, because understanding the fish's story and the chef's intent for each piece makes it taste better.
On one visit, the first course was a firm piece of wild-caught Hamachi topped with daikon radish and cucumber. It was served on an undulating plate with two sauces that looked like water slides. One sauce was a black peppery allium vinaigrette, the other a neon, dairy-free green goddess dressing. Another course was Akami Zuke, a ruby-red slice of tuna marinated in house-made soy sauce and bonito that had an unforgettably sweet and smoky taste.
Another course featured a piece of fatty, buttery farm-raised salmon paired with tart house-made ponzu, toasted sesame and a smoky pepper that I didn't catch the name of, but tasted like a chipotle. There was also an umami-packed miso soup with firm mushrooms, and Spanish mackerel that ate like a fresh, flaky whitefish. It was seared, charred and topped with ponzu and green onion. The one and only roll of the evening contained a delectable fatty tuna, thinly sliced, with green onions.
If I had a favorite course, it was a Japanese sea fluke. The chef removed its fins and charred them with a blowtorch, creating a savory smokiness and funk. It's the course that stopped me in my tracks, making it all but impossible to take notes on the next two dishes. I suppose that's the kind of thing you look for in an omakase experience. A moment that makes the world stop. A moment that makes you realize how lucky you are to sit in an Ohio River city tasting a shockingly fresh bite of fish from 6,000 miles away.
Roji is located on Prior Street, a back alleyway behind Daruma at 31 E. Court St., Downtown. For reservations, visit exploretock.com/roji-cincinnati. Hours: Dinner service is at 6 and 8 p.m. Wednesday-Sunday and 5, 7 and 9 p.m. Friday-Sunday. Lunch is available at noon and 1 p.m. Friday-Sunday.
This article originally appeared on Cincinnati Enquirer: This 'secret' sushi spot is the next reservation you need to fight for
