Santa Monica’s Main Street has fought tooth and nail to retain the territory that the people wrested from the cars during the pandemic; several restaurants on the block maintain outdoor dining decks over former street parking spots, and what used to be a run-of-the-mill strip mall at 2400 Main Street has had its parking spots converted to a small plaza with cafe tables, umbrellas and benches. Most of the action is on the south side, which hosts a deli and a gelato bar. The sleepier and more offbeat side hosts a small Italian market, a store for Japanese clothing and goods, and the Sushi Vegan / Thai Vegan duo.
Today I’m here for sushi, for no other reason than because my lizard brain still associates sushi with the sea even when there are no fish involved. This will be my first dine-out vegan sushi experience, and I have some misgivings. Sushi Vegan and Thai Vegan are twin restaurants serving vastly different food concepts. The nouns are also before the adjectives, which could mean nothing or everything.
It’s quiet for a Sunday around noon. There are no other diners on the Sushi side. On the Thai side, an active couple on a bike tour are loading up takeout containers with their leftovers as we arrive. I choose to read this as an endorsement; nobody in their right mind commits to an afternoon ride at the beach with leftovers tossing around in their bike bag unless they’re certain it will be worth their while.
The interior is snug. A very kawaii salmon nigiri smiles beatifically from behind a flower arrangement. There’s a charming balance between the functional and the decorative elements throughout, from the intricately carved framework around the dining room doors to the mis-matched paper towel holders on each table. It’s no small feat to make an empty establishment feel so genuinely warm, but this place drips with small business energy. When even the childrens’ lemonade stands in Santa Monica are visibly self-conscious about their brand alignment, the lack of pretension here is a breath of fresh air.
In a very uncharacteristic order, my wife and I go for the Aloha Roll and the Volcano roll. The Aloha roll is a konjac ‘salmon’ and avocado roll topped with spicy mayo, sweet sauce, and a sprinkle of sesame seeds. The rice has a light purplish hue; it looks like some medium grain black rice was cooked into the shorter grain white rice to give it this color. These bits of black rice introduce a subtle pop to each bite as well. The konjac ‘salmon’ nails the texture in three clean movements, like a concerto – – It’s light and bouncy, but once sheared has a tenderness that finally gives way to a melty finish. Still, the pineapple is the star of the show and the salty, nutty and fatty elements all ultimately give it plenty of room to breathe. Those who like their rolls sweet should enjoy this one.
The Volcano roll arrives in a makeshift foil tray. It’s a spicy ‘tuna’ and avocado roll turned on its side and topped with spicy mayo, oyster mushrooms, and various sweet and spicy dressings including a jalapeno coin. At a certain point the order of assembly becomes tricky to unpack; the baked goods on top of the roll form a very coherent package with all the goodness locked in by a delicate brulee.
When a dish hits the right balance of spiciness, it’s a propulsive experience. One feels compelled to keep putting more down the hatch to quench the fire, and as such there is no anticipation or relishing of aftertastes. Yet, the senses are fully awakened and the midrange notes are amplified to their theoretical limits. The volcano roll nails this balance; it’s a Spector-esque wall of sound from front to back and a divinely maximalist experience.
Ordering the Volcano roll made me feel just a little dirty, as if I were fulfilling a longtime bedroom fantasy. Not only did I once turn my nose up at this sort of dish, but I also secretly and with great shame wondered what it was like to live on the other side. I’ve always had an anthropological fascination with extremely American sushi; this fascination has until this point been tempered by a healthy respect for mother nature’s laws. When you toss a raw fish sushi roll in the broiler for a quick bake, you play kitsune bakuchi with your gut flora. While reviewing this fully vegan menu I had a small but precious moment of clarity; unshackled by such Pasteurian concerns I knew what I had to have.
Perhaps the most obvious reason for society dismissing certain restaurants or dishes as sketchy is that serving animal meat is a fundamentally sketchy practice, requiring the most carefully controlled environments to reduce the risk of illness. This requirement for control breeds homogeneity. The sushi bars of my past had a clinical feel to them; mirror-polished bar surfaces allowed for quicker sanitization, and thermostats set to ‘Siberia’ favored the bar-top sashimi cases over the patrons. The concessions we make in pursuit of flesh come at the expense of what should be a cozy tryst between chef and diner.
Sushi Vegan is precisely the sort of funky hole-in-the-wall sushi joint that I would not have taken a chance on as an omnivore had they been serving raw fish. We have since returned for their simpler but equally excellent fare including the spicy ‘tuna’ cucumber, ‘salmon’ avocado, and the stellar tofu ‘eel’ avocado roll – – it’s quickly becoming a go-to spot. The plant-based diet may close more doors than it opens when it comes to dining out, but I’ve found that the doors it does open are much more rewarding on balance.
