I love Japanese food, not least because of all the interesting (i.e. unfamiliar) ingredients they use, but also because of the clean flavours & immaculate presentation, not to mention it all seems so healthy that I feel can stuff myself silly without a dash(i) of guilt. So when I saw reviews proclaiming Zuma as possibly the best Japanese restaurant in London, better even than those in the Nobu chain, it was like a red rag to a bull. The fact that Miss P read in Harper’s Bazaar that Zuma is ‘a window on London’s affluent international set’ and recommended wearing ‘killer heels’ helped seal the deal on her side.

Having been led astray by Google Maps (that’s my excuse, anyway) and frustratingly having to get a taxi for the last quarter mile of the journey, we arrived fashionably (well, 15 minutes) late for our 9pm table and were welcomed by a queue at the Maitre’D’s desk and a frosty reception from Miss Hoity Toity herself, who immediately pointed out we were late and she would ‘find us’ at the bar in about 20 minutes or so, when a table was available. The feeling of that brush off was not enhanced by the fact that, despite being warned by the descriptions, we were faced with not only a proliferation of immaculately coiffured, designer clad Clientele, but an absolutely rammed bar, and this on a Wednesday evening (what credit crunch?). Unfortunately for them, there were less of the ‘young & beautiful’ and more of the ‘gruesome & garish’ and with a fair few suits, it seemed to me that it’s one of those places that people think that it’s the place to be seen in, rather than it actually being somewhere hip & happening.

I then experienced what I would describe as the ‘international’ aspect of the bar. One of my bug bears when I’m in busy bars in other countries, is the fact that the etiquette of a tap on the arm/shoulder of someone you’re trying to get past, along with an ‘Excuse Me’ doesn’t ever seem to work (even with the relevant translation). After having to physically push past two people on the way to the Gents because they didn’t understand the shoulder/arm tap etiquette, I was then confronted by a brute of a bloke, who seemed to be deliberately ignoring my attempts to get past. With the pushing past tactic less likely to be successful in moving this lump, I went for the less used but rarely unsuccessful use of the judicious briefcase against the back of the knee. Job done. ‘International’ aspect overcome.

Things started looking up when we were promptly served at the bar, sipped our excellent cocktails (the Sachwan Soupcon was a pretty heavenly mango concoction), the Maitre’D did actually find us through the crowd and we were led to our table.  The restaurant was a far less crowded affair, decked out in lots of light wood, with a mixture of sculpted and roughly hewn chunks of marble that fit into the Modern-but-respectful-to-tradition ethos of Zuma. I also liked the open kitchen, although we weren’t able to see it from where we were seated.

Once we were comfortable and set and water was offered, I deliberately and perhaps mischievously asked for tap water straight away, partly as I was interested to see what kind of response I’d get. I am glad to say that our waiter immediately responded affirmatively and without a flicker of the disdain which I was half expecting. Miss P and I were then pleasantly surprised by the enthusiasm of the Sake Sommelier, who, with little persuasion, tempted us with the Azure Deep Water Sake, apparently blended with water from a natural spring at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean and which was absolutely delicious to drink. We were less surprised with the enthusiasm when we looked around us and noticed that not a single other table was drinking Sake, which I thought was a disappointing response to an extremely well stocked sake cellar.

The menu had far too many dishes on it that took our fancy, but we eschewed the tasting menu to go a la carte. In line with other Japanese restaurants, the dishes tend not to come in any particular order, so first up was our Nigiri Sushi, consisting of 1 each of Sea Bream, Salmon, King Prawn, Sea Bass & Scallop, all of which were delectable. Next up was the Squid in Green Chilli & Salt, the Softshell Crab with Wasabi Mayonnaise and the Yellowtail Tuna Sashimi in a Ponzu sauce. All of these were superb; the squid crispy yet tender, the Crab being exceptionally moreish with the wasabi mayo, but the Tuna Sashimi was just heaven on a plate. A description of beautifully fresh fish with a slightly citrussy sauce does not do it justice and it’s really one of those dishes you have to taste for yourself.

Our final dishes were the Black Cod, which seemed to have been lifted directly from the Nobu menu (although did not taste any less delightful for the transition) and the Seared Beef with Chilli, Sesame Seeds and Sweet Soy sauce, which was gorgeous.

Zuma is one of the few establishments I’ve been where the other people almost put me off the place. Despite the excellent cocktails, I would happily leave the bar to the braying hordes, but the restaurant did serve up some exceptional dishes and I couldn’t let anyone affect my access to such delights. The service was pretty good, although at such a high end restaurant, still left some room for improvement and the prices ranged from the reasonable (£7.50 for the squid) to the ridiculous (£75 for a Wagyu Steak). Zuma is not the kind place you can afford to go to on a regular basis (unless you’re a fully fledged member of the trust fund tribe) and it doesn’t quite scale the heights of the Nobu chain (although there really isn’t much in it), but I would go back without hesitation. In future though, I’ll endeavour to book at a lunchtime or on a Monday evening slot in order to avoid the same kind of crowd, otherwise I may well have to wilfully misinterpret Harper’s Bazaar ‘What to Wear’ recommendation and bring ‘Killer Heels’ of the Richard Reid rather than Manolo Blahnik variety (each of which probably bring up equally horrifying images!).