Although it didn't start as a food truck, a meals-on-wheels beginning is a likely origin story for PinKU Japanese Street Food.
It's not so far off the mark, since chef/co-owner John Sugimura did fall under the spell of the food cart operators who make the gigantic Nishiki Market in Kyoto, Japan, his Happiest Place on Earth. After years of studiously building a devoted Twin Cities clientele as a private chef, Sugimura teamed up with business partner Xiaoteng Huang to bring those cherished Nishiki memories to a wider audience.
In June, they christened a 30-seat space in northeast Minneapolis to showcase Sugimura's most crowd-pleasing recipes. Their focus is admirably disciplined: just a few seafood basics, sizzling gyoza and rice, at crowd-pleasing prices. That's it.
What a brilliant idea.
My first tip: When that rice is labeled "crispy," go for it. Rice is seasoned with mirin, sugar and salt, molded into cakes and grilled in a bit of butter. After getting dunked in soy sauce, the cakes are grilled a second time, and that's where the irresistible hot-crispy-salty caramelization (a recurring leitmotif) comes into play.
Those in search of offbeat selections from the sea should look elsewhere. Familiar and approachable are the operative words. Salmon, richly fatty, is expertly seared and paired with that divine rice cake, although it's also a centerpiece of a loosely coiled roll. Ditto firm, succulent, sushi-grade tuna.
The yellowfin also goes the raw route — cool, elegantly sliced and artfully finished with a flurry of gently crispy onions. It's also channeled into a flagrantly appealing poke. Sugimura treats it almost like a salad, tossing tiny snips of that plush fish with flashes of sesame oil, chile oil and rice wine vinegar — enhancing rather than infusing the fish with those bold flavors — and then adding creamy avocado and crunchy radish for plays on texture. It's become a favorite way of mine to part with $8.
Next tip: Don't ignore the shrimp, the menu's top seller. Many unseen steps go into its perfection. Plus-size, but not Godzilla-like, they're given a quick toss in rice wine vinegar and salt ("To freshen them up, to de-scum them," said Sugimura), smacked with a rubber mallet ("So you don't get that rigid shrimp cocktail feeling in your mouth," he added), then seasoned with a thin coating of pepper, potato starch and spiced-up mayonnaise before hitting the deep fryer's canola oil.