Service with a snarl

Sushi King gave a whole generation of Malaysians access to an epicurean experience that would otherwise have been unaffordable to most. I remember how, as a college student stringing with a local paper, I felt so proud to be able to take my mum out for lunch and tell her that I got the check. I don’t have many food memories with my mum, as she is pretty laissez faire about food, so I treasure the days when she and I used to walk down to the Sushi King branch in Bangsar Baru and enjoy lunch together on a Saturday. Dad has an aversion to raw food and equates Japanese with it, so he steers well clear.

For those not in the know, Sushi King is the original kaiten-belt, Japanese quick service restaurant in Malaysia. They dominated the market in bar-style Japanese dining, and are still, after more than ten years, the biggest Japanese franchise in the country.

I have been so blessed that my parents worked so that their kids were able to enjoy all kinds of food. We never had to dine at home for economic reasons, and I remember, even when in my tweens, how I already began to prefer udon over the Malaysian yellow noodles, and how I’d in a flash, choose soba in cold soy, with a raw quail’s egg over our mee goreng. I grew up loving Japanese and I still consider it my absolute favourite Asian cuisine.

Having dined in the city’s finest Japanese restaurants, and having followed the Japanese food movement in Kuala Lumpur since I was a teen, I believe I know good Japanese from mediocre.

Sushi King has gone from good to awful to mediocre in the years I have eaten off their belts. I used to contribute quite a lot to their pre-tax profit when I was newly in the work force. After I got more established and learnt more about what really made great Japanese food, I hardly stepped into a Sushi King.

Now, as a wife and mother, I have returned to the franchise and have been a regular at the outlet in the Kelana Jaya hypermarket. It is quick and near, and when dining with a toddler whose mood changes as fast as my own, these are paramount criteria.

The salmon sashimi was thick, and so was the staff.

After the fabulous Nagomi dinner, I craved for more sashimi. Maybe I am iodine-deficient, maybe the water element of my star sign craves the ingestion of marine minerals, but whatever it was, I found myself in Sushi King, with Kit and Erin in tow last night.

Guess I should be glad there was no crabstick in this selection!

Guess the crabstick had to show up somewhere. This was part of Erin's kiddie meal.

It is a far cry from Nagomi. But to be fair, the prices at Sushi King match their product, as well as their service culture. Or lack of it. I did not mind that the salmon sashimi came in very thick slices, or that the sashimi moriawase looked a bit flaccid and unhappy to be presented, but I did mind having to wait for 15 minutes for a refill of green tea.

Not only that, when the waitress did finally come to refill, she managed to dribble tea over the table and the order form cum payment sheet. When I called for the final reconciling of the meal, she looked as if I purposely allowed Erin to drown the paper in water in order to give her a hard time.

I guess it is a fact that we get what we pay for, but a meal of RM100 surely deserves a little better?