Luna Omakase Review

Leo Tanyag deals in edomae and sosaku sushi, which blend the traditional with more experimental or contemporary twists. ’12 Dishes. 12 Cycles. 12 Stories. 12 Moons. 12 Seats.’ is his restaurant’s tagline. The menu changes on a regular basis and is inspired by the moon cycle; how that not only affects Tanyag but also the fish and accompanying ingredients. ‘Omakase’ translates from the Japanese as ‘I leave it up to you.’ The diner has to choose their drink, but apart from that, can kick back and enjoy having to make no further decisions. Expect theatrics. Expect stories. Expect thrills. Expect the unexpected. Expect the absolute best.

Set down the corridor from the Liverpool Street, Los Mochis, Luna offers an immediately calmer, more refined atmosphere than the cocktail-fuelled, DJ-led one which inspires the popular Mexican Japanese. Drapes cover the square box’s street windows so that a dusky moodiness is achieved by pin-prick spotlights and backlit, moon-inspired art from Oms Rocha.

Card names guide diners to their seats and a gong’s gentle shimmer marks the ceremony’s beginning. Next to the card name is a bowl of ginger and cucumber to cleanse palates at will. The team, consisting of Tanyag, three assistants and a sommelier,  introduces itself. Tanyag, happy, interested, and friendly, asks a few questions of his guests who sit on tall chairs around three sides of the bar. Each offering is constructed with a respect for nature and our particular moon cycle is inspired by creativity. An assistant shows off the fish for tonight’s feast, a kind of still life bento box, and our sommelier offers up enthusiastic and vivacious descriptions of each drink’s pairing.

Two slithers of Amberjack marinate in an orange ponzu sauce. The ponzu is slightly acidic, contains rice vinegar and fermented wasabi made on a full moon. It’s a refreshing, zingy, clean start and is followed by one of my favourites.

Served in a jet black granite sci-fi bowl with leaking dry ice, it could have been a baby alien we were being served, an alternative Gizmo. The ball is cold to the touch. Take off its top, and the dry ice dissipates to reveal a tray of Italian caviar set on a bronze lattice. Under the caviar, Bluefin tuna tartar lurks and under that, three year old sweet wasabi. Shallots and hints of charcoal add subtlety to this mouth-watering combo which melts and melts in the mouth. Portion looks small but takes a pleasing amount of time to consume and can be dipped into by rice crackers.

A selection of nigiri thrills next. If Tanyag doesn’t entirely surprise by suggesting we eat with our fingers, he does by instructing us to eat the nigiri upside down. Everyone looks puzzled. He further explains that the rice contains vinegar and distorts the purity of the fish’s protein. So, for the fullest flavour, eat the nigiri upside down! In practice, this makes complete sense, though the rice grains can start sticking to fingers. A soft textured King Prawn with yuzu leads blow torched Sea Trout belly from Cornwall. The latter is fatty and smoky and luscious but watch out for the caviar, which makes eating upside down more of a challenge. Black bream from North France is seared with white hot, 370 Celsius binchotan charcoal, which adds not only a charred blackness to the creamy coloured meat but a gritty smokiness. The Omakase suddenly smells of Mediterranean beaches and holiday BBQs and the smoke dramatises the space, creates shafts of light from the ceiling. A cucumber and avocado wrap comes as a refreshing and lighter option. The cucumber is startlingly soft and sweet and coriander gives it a Mexican feel. 

More textured food is on its way. A healthy slice of truffle decorates Yellowtail dipped in sesame aioli as if it was a sloped, avant-garde hat piece. It all sits on a chunk of rice – crispy on the outside, warm on the inside. It’s a heady mix but the sweet potato hard taco shell stuffed with caviar and Oaxacan mescal worm powder is headier and crazier.

Tanyag especially enjoys telling us to watch out for the cheddar cheese after flavour. Huh? Something to do with the caviar’s umami mixing with the sweeter, lingering potato. Nothing to do with any cheese our team sneaked on the taco when no-one was watching. The presentation bursts with viscosity and saltiness and, then, surely enough, cheddar cheese. It’s another favourite dish.  We’re presented with seared scallop from Hokkaido in a dehydrated miso and fig paste and then super thin fatty tuna inspired by the same process used to procure jamón.  

The drinks pairings are equally exotic and range from wine to sake to non-alcoholic pairings. Our sommelier has a deep dark voice as florid and charismatic as her detailed descriptions. All the sake originates from Japan but with the wine, only a chardonnay, Chateau Mercian ’Rivalis’ Left Bank does – in this case from Hokushin. There’s an Assyrtiko from Greece, a Garganega from Italy and a Pinot Noir from France. Tanyag explains we should bite then sip, bite, then sip for maximum drink to sushi complementing.

Just when it seemed the evening couldn’t get any more dynamic, Tanyag throws us a curveball. He tells a story of when he was a young boy and how his mother encouraged him to do well at school. If he passed all his tests, she’d give him his favourite sandwich. If he failed, she wouldn’t. Pretty simple, really and lucky for us he was a diligent student. To celebrate his youth and his mother, in the middle of our sushi tasting, Tanyag suddenly prepares us a sandwich. But of course, it’s no ordinary sandwich, it’s a beef wagyu one with bread made from tapioca starch, fresh wasabi leaves instead of lettuce leaves, a swipe of barbecued sake paste and some Japanese mustard seeds. It’s super juicy and tender and probably the best wagyu I’ve ever had; Tanyag’s mum was obviously a very wise woman. 

More wagyu, equally tender, but not as thick or bloody as that in the sandwich, comes in nigiri form for our penultimate dish. Curiously, the wagyu slices are cooked on a round slab of Himalayan rock salt in the same fashion as the Swiss use a raclette or pierrade. The result mixes fatty with meaty, umami with salty. Ever the showman, for his final theatrical flourish, Tanyag shaves a block of ice. No one’s quite sure what it is but the strong blood orange takes no prisoners, leaves no one in any doubt. A hint of camomile offers subtler flavouring and the experience is similar to eating freshly fallen snow.

As we’re finishing up and diners take selfies of Tanyag and his team behind the counter, he lets slip about plans to open more omakases in London, New York, Miami and Los Angeles. The Luxury Editor wishes him well and can not wait!