Metro Pulse/Restaruant Rover/Sakura

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Sakura
8615 Kingston Pike
670-9858

by Connie Seuer

Picture this: a Saturday spent re-fueling a big-ass truck, moving heavy-ass equipment from a warehouse to a storage unit, sweating in the humid-ass weather, and doing pain-in-the-ass errands that require driving on the most traffic-choked sections of Kingston Pike. Now picture this: a day spent doing all of said ass-ish things with an infant in tow. Do I hear a "dumb-ass!"?

Lucky for us, Heinrich and I were in the company of a very tolerant little Frankfurter, at least until dinnertime rolled around, which found us feeding the tootler in a West Knoxville parking lot. Our thinking? Feed sweet child before dinner and secure a quiet dining experience for ourselves. We thunk wrong. But once again, we got lucky. We were supping at Sakura where we discovered a staff of very helpful and very patient waitresses, cooks, and hosts.

We were able to order gyoza ($4.50) and edamame ($3.95) in relative calm. Heinrich sipped on some green tea ($1.50) while I scanned the menu and tried to make our dinner selections. The décor is modest and casual—a lattice of bamboo canes separates three Hibachi tables and a sushi bar from the standard dining area; wood and rice paper lanterns emit a soft, diffused light; Norah Jones' tunes drift from the stereo, leaving the emphasis on the food and service.

Even if you don't usually ply the appetizers list, I recommend making an exception at Sakura and sampling the gyoza—perfectly prepared plump dumplings filled with steamy pork. They're definitely above the average find. The edamame (that's soybeans, ya hear), served warm and in their pods lacked only one thing—salt. Some more NaCl in the cooking water or sprinkled on the exterior would transform the healthy poppers into an ideal pre-dinner snack.

But as I was saying, the relative calm ended as soon as the appetizers were ordered. Without going into great detail, the rest of dinner found the babe in varying states of discomfort—hunger, in need of a new diaper, trying to burp, or generally fussy restlessness. Throughout all of this, and our new-parent attempts at sating the kiddo's needs without disrupting other diners, our waitress smiled, helped us juggle an entire table of food, and even played with bambino. To her, I say, "Thanks again."

Despite the chaos, Heinrich and I were quite aware that we were being served some surprisingly good food. He took the tempura shrimp ($13.95) for a test run—several large tempura shrimp surrounded by a covey of tempura vegetables, including asparagus, beans, and sweet potato. Served with tamari sauce for dipping, the tempura was some of the lightest and most bountiful I've tried. My appetite, however, drove me to order the hibachi steak ($15.95). All hibachi dinners are served with miso soup, salad, vegetables, and rice, which is the standard play from Japanese steak houses, but Sakura one-upped the regular fare by executing each part of the dish and its accompaniments (save the salad) tastefully, flavorfully, and attractively. The white miso soup, filled with bits of seaweed, petite rings of green onions, and tofu bobs the size of mini-marshmallows, was a surprisingly refreshing experience on a hot day. We found the white miso to be subtler and less briny than other varieties.

The salad, composed of crisp iceberg lettuce and the random carrot strip, was overly dressed (for me) in bright orange ginger dressing. But the allotment of dressing suited Heinrich to a tee. Our disagreement over the salad was quickly overshadowed by the huge amount of food on my hibachi platter. Be warned—ordering from the hibachi side of the menu demands a substantial appetite. Tender and juicy chunks of steak were heaped in one corner of my square plate, while another corner was occupied by egg-enriched fried rice, sprinkled with a crunchy garnish of sesame seeds. The remaining half of the plate held hibachi grilled onions, baby corn, zucchini, carrots, mushrooms, and broccoli, each blossoming with its own flavor.

We felt it only appropriate to take a quick sample from the sushi bar—the requisite California roll ($3.50) and one hamachi (yellow tail, $2.25). With all the other food exceeding our expectations we suspected it would be the sushi that disappointed. But Sakura's California roll was a fresh and delicious delight, easily contending with Knoxville's other sushi offerings. And the hamachi was equally pleasing and plentifully proportioned.

Our only regret from our visit to Sakura was that we didn't get to stay as long as we would have liked. That's right: once all of our food arrived (and it arrived quickly) our tot was bursting at the seams. This meant that after merely breaking the surface of our dinner we had to take the operation home. Thanks to Sakura's quick staff, we were boxed up (including accompanying sauces) in a minute flat.

We could hardly blame the little fella for being fussy. He'd had a long day and had been so good throughout most of the frustrating errands we'd had to conduct in the nether-reaches of West Knoxville. Alas, sometimes the evils of the West are necessary to enjoy the pleasures of the East.