Sushi Mon: Worse Than Ever

I recently decided to eat at Sushi Mon by the Beverly Center for the first time in years. I always had fond memories of the place and thought it would be fun to give it a go one more time. Yeah, bad idea. Below is my Yelp review of the experience - my first ever negative Yelp review.

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Disclaimer: I don’t like saying bad things about places. Alas, this food sucked so badly that this is my first overly negative review on Yelp. Yes, it was that bad.

I used to love this place. I used to go here fairly often (twice a month) back in the early 2000’s, and thought their fish quality was 3.5 star, service was 4.5 star, and price-to-size ratio was 5 star. I used to have a great time every time I went; walking away with the exact experience I wanted. I used to want to be a garbage man and hang onto the back of the white garbage truck that came by my house every week as a kid.

Sadly, those ships have sailed. Far, far away. They may have sunk en route.

Granted that my sushi palate is far more developed these days, but still, Sushi Mon would have gotten an extra half-point in their favor for nostalgic reasons alone. No, they had to try, hard, to fail this badly. We sat at the bar, the service was not exceptional, not miserable. What the sushi chef lacked in ability and personality he surely didn’t make up for with his bar-side manner. To be fair, he did say he was new there, but still. Our orders came out with no cadence:

“Why am I sitting here starring at you with wide doe eyes? Oh yeah, because my fat ass is hungry and you, my chosen conduit to happiness, haven’t placed raw-fish-goodness on my tray in over 5 minutes. WTF-san?”

We had marked “cut” and “hand” rolls, figuring he would know what that means. I mean, the f’n sheet had a column for cut and hand. Apparently this was new to him. Upon reception of my cut spicy scallop roll, I say: “I’m pretty sure that was supposed to be a hand roll fine sir.” To which he looks at the sheet, shrugs, and says something to the effect of: “oh yeah, sorry.” No offer to fix the order, or replace the order. Just a shrug. Ok, fuck you guy.

But still, that’s just service; interface if you will to my raw fish Mecca. If the food is still good I will accept brow-beating from sushi bar staff. Your review is not in jeopardy yet Sushi Mon. Just give me those pieces of tasty fish goodness!

The hamachi was ok, let’s see where this goes – remaining optimistic.

The seared albacore nearly made me gag.

He FORCED the monk liver out of a caulk tube with great difficulty in-front of us. A caulk tube. FML.

The medium tuna had NO flavor. How they made this happen is a black magic that only the Japanese must know.

The snapper was good, well done sir.

The halibut was good, +1. Maybe we just picked some of their bad stock and this is going to turn around.

Ahh, next up, the Blue Fin Toro. I love Blue Fin Tuna. I have dreams about Blue Fin Tuna. And while I prefer the medium Blue Fin, I will accept Blue Fin Toro as a stand-in with no complaints. We ordered two orders. I knew the proverbial sushi train was off the f’n rails when our sushi chef now asks us if we’d like the toro “seared”. WHO THE FUCK SEARS TORO? Was this beginner’s day? Busch league my friend. I tactfully say “no thank you, how about just one order not seared”. I mean, I don’t want either order when this MFer is suggesting he sear it and cover it with scallions. His response: “I already cut two orders”. I DON”T GIVE A FLYING FUCK! Your fish is miserable, you just admitted it as you recommended searing your pièce de résistance to try and burn off the horribleness that is your food, and now you have the audacity to stick me with the fucking order?! Ok, fine. I’ll play your game.

The raw order was pretty bad. Flavor was below ok, but the texture was as firm as an overcooked porkchop. How you sell this as toro is beyond me.

He asks again on the second order if we’d like it seared with scallions on top and sweet soy. Sure fuck face, I hate you and want to leave this shithole as fast as I can. So go ahead, break out your MAP gas torch and sear the fuck out of it. Medium Well please. Give me a fork and steak knife too so I can cut the fucker up and eat it like you want me too.

Guess what? That piece was miserable. I “chewed” it enough to break it into pieces that I thought I had a 50/50 chance of NOT getting lodged in my esophagus and swallowed it near whole. EPIC FAIL SUSHI MON!

But wait, there’s more. While I only experienced mental trauma and a destroyed flavor palate after our fine dining experience at Sushi Mon, my sushi bar companion experienced the Level 4 poops. What better way to end your miserable sushi eating experience than with a little peeing out of your butt.

I have no interest in returning to Sushi Mon in the future. Maybe this was a one-off experience, but there are too many good sushi restaurants in LA to even consider going back to this dump. DINER BEWARE!