Musashi's
The quest for authentic sushi ends at a shack on the edge of uber-yuppified 45th–one of the few establishments left with heart and sweat in all of 98103. It lacks the pretentious elegance that has defined Seattle sushi as an elitist experience. It possesses neither the pseudo Shinjuku Nippo-trip of Blue C, nor the accidental green of Sushiland, and thankfully it isn’t bland, like Sam’s. There’s no concept of leg room, they don’t let you wait inside, and they don’t take plastic. It’s simple sushi for sailors served by little Japanese ladies in butcher aprons who fill the sake flasks to the rim. The fact that two people can get stuffed (with said sake to boot) for $35 says enough on its own.
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