Sushi Masa is a locals’ joint, the kind of place where everybody knows your name; by the end of the night they knew mine, too. It isn’t hard to make yourself known: There’s a kitchen, a counter, two tables and a few seats, so conversations are shared, to which there seem to be no beginning or end. Thankfully the food has more consistency.

Sushi Masa lies somewhere between the ubiquitous unfussy kaiten-zushi restaurants and the upscale fashionable places where one is awed into silence (by anticipation of the fare and the bill), but in terms of price and atmosphere it is closer to the former. The elderly master’s sashimi cuts are generous; in fact all the portions are quite large. He said little to nothing, as his wife pottered about taking orders, serving customers and making small talk.

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