If you could eat at any restaurant in the world, where would you go?
Somewhere in France? A James Beard-award winner?
For members of my family, and maybe even myself, that restaurant exists off of Market Street in Greensboro, where it’s been for the last 40 years.
From the outside, Asahi Japanese Steakhouse & Sushi Bar is nondescript with its sloping tile roof and position at the corner of a small strip mall. But inside is a Japanese kitchen that rivals any place in the country—maybe even the world.
Raised by a sushi-chef father and seasoned home-cook mother, I’ve been going to Asahi since I was a kid. It was where we would go when they didn’t feel like cooking and wanted to treat themselves.
While the entrance opens to the steakhouse, my recommendation is to walk past and enter the sushi bar area. That’s where you’ll find Japanese families and workers spending their evenings.
People think the epitome of Japanese food is either hibachi or sushi. At Asahi, there’s a third option. While the sushi is certainly good (we’ll get to that), it’s the wealth of other Japanese staples from the kitchen that make Asahi what it is. You can find plenty of decent sushi in Greensboro. But things like kaki fry (panko-fried oysters), hamachi kama (grilled yellowtail cheek), agedashi tofu (fried tofu in broth), or sunagimo (chicken gizzards) are only found within these walls.
The last time my family was there, we ordered a giant platter of nigiri and gunkan—hamachi, sake, uni, saba, ikura—but also a myriad of things from the kitchen. My mom and sister’s favorite? The crab fried rice. Mine? The kaki fry. My husband Sam’s? The hamachi kama.
Then, there’s the toro.
If you’re a sushi lover—and by that, I mean of the raw variety—and you’ve never had toro, you’re missing out. It’s like loving steak and never having tried filet mignon or, better yet, wagyu.
For starters, there aren’t many restaurants that offer toro, the fatty part that comes from the belly of tuna. It’s one of the most expensive cuts you can order. It’s creamy, and when it’s good, it melts in your mouth. Usually, there are two levels: chutoro (medium) or otoro (top/best). The first, like the slightly fatty part of a good steak, is good. But the otoro is a different beast. Pale pink with white lines of fat, there’s almost no need to chew once you pop it into your mouth. One piece—because of its decadence—is enough.
Yes, the pieces will set you back. But trust me, it’s worth it. Mix a little wasabi into your soy sauce, lightly dip the nigiri (fish side down if you can!), and let the flavor wash over your tongue. It’s heaven in one bite.
After eating our giant pieces of toro, my family began talking about how they think Asahi is their favorite restaurant —in the entire world. If they could have a free meal anywhere, they would come here.
Impressive coming from people who have dined in NY, DC, LA, and even Japan itself. Sure, there’s probably a bit of nostalgia mixed in for us. But there’s also a magic to the perfect balance of home-cooked dishes coupled with some of the best sushi around.
So the next time you’re looking for world-class food, you might consider the rustic sushi bar off Market Street. No Michelin stars hang on the walls, but you might find it’s one of the best meals you’ve ever had.