Ayu

Ayu's interior was assembled piece by piece in Japan — every detail was brought over deliberately. The counter of white hinoki cypress, the wood traditionally used to build Shinto shrines, became the room's central object, with the whole dinner unfolding behind it. Tableware, knives, kimono, and a refrigerated cabinet — the team waited nearly two years in line for the last one. The result reads immediately: no one tried to recreate Japan from references here — they literally brought it over.

Our restaurant guide's team finds Ayu not just a sushi spot but a genuine gastronomic theater, where the cooking works as art and the service as philosophy.

The name itself refers to a small silvery fish from the smelt family: in Japanese, ayu means "divine." It has a rare combination of flavor and aroma — sweetness with notes of cucumber and watermelon at once. That image precisely captures the logic of the whole menu: the ingredient at the center, everything else its frame.

Ayu runs on the omakase format — the guest hands the choice entirely to the chef. No menu to choose from, no à la carte items. Two tasting sets — an evening one and a lunch one — change with the season. Japan counts 72 of these micro-seasons: each one marks a specific natural event — "nightingales start to sing," "the peach blossoms." This isn't a poetic device but a practical one: exactly the ingredient at its peak right now shows up on the menu. The current evening set is called "Yuzu Under Snow."

Service here follows the principle of omotenashi — the Japanese approach to hospitality in which service is built not on protocol but on attention to each specific person. The staff aim to anticipate a wish before the guest has finished forming it. This isn't a marketing line — for Ayu, it's literally the foundation the whole WA Garden project stands on.

Our secret guests gave the dinner 8 out of 10 — for a rare consistency in the details, from ingredient quality and plating precision to how the staff carry themselves behind the counter.