Haru

Haru

Sushi-minded friends often troop to Little Tokyo or Nagoya, but when we’re hungry for some chilly raw fish, seaweed paper, rice, and wasabi, we go directly to Haru.

Haru’s on Ridgewood Road, a tidy, locally-owned restaurant surrounded on all sides by a Subway and a Fazoli’s. Haru’s promixity to my house allows me to refer to it as "my neighborhood sushi joint." This is not the kind of thing one gets to say often while living in Jackson.

Little Tokyo engages in the forced craziness of a shouting chef who calls returning diners by name. By contrast, Haru is laid back and personal. Clyde and I are always welcomed with a warm smile. The kitchen and the service are consistent. The miso soup is piping hot, as are the moist white cotton towels handed out to every arrival.

And while the tempura veggies and chicken hot pots are a delight, the rolls are the stars of the show. I’m a big fan of the lettuce-wrapped dragonfly, which comes drizzled with twin sauces. Friends enjoy the Ridgewood Roll, which has been, in deference to the Southern pallette’s preference for fried food, battered and dunked in boiling oil. The crawfish rolls are just spicy enough; the shrimp and crab taste market-fresh.

The prices here are lower than Little Tokyo or Nagoya, especially at lunch, when the menu includes generous bento boxes: chicken tempura and sushi, sushi, and sashimi boxes, among others. The frequent diner program adds to the value, snagging every fifth lunch box free. At night, if your check tops thirty bucks (hard to do, given the reasonable prices), you’ll get a card for a free roll to be used on your next visit.

When Haru first opened, the staff — eager to seem attentive — could creep some people out (friends felt "watched" or "stared at" by certain waiters, who did, in fact, tend to hover). But Haru’s matured now, and the folks waiting tables are models of quiet efficiency.

So, while upscale Jacksonians are pounding down high-dollar rolls at Nagoya, I’m getting fresher, better food for less at my neighborhood Haru. Stop in, but keep the place between us, okay? I like Haru so much myself, I almost kept it a secret from you.

Sushi-minded friends often troop to Little Tokyo or Nagoya, but when we’re hungry for some chilly raw fish, seaweed paper, rice, and wasabi, we go directly to Haru.

Haru’s on Ridgewood Road, a tidy, locally-owned restaurant surrounded on all sides by a Subway and a Fazoli’s. Haru’s promixity to my house allows me to refer to it as "my neighborhood sushi joint." This is not the kind of thing one gets to say often while living in Jackson.

Little Tokyo engages in the forced craziness of a shouting chef who calls returning diners by name. By contrast, Haru is laid back and personal. Clyde and I are always welcomed with a warm smile. The kitchen and the service are consistent. The miso soup is piping hot, as are the moist white cotton towels handed out to every arrival.

And while the tempura veggies and chicken hot pots are a delight, the rolls are the stars of the show. I’m a big fan of the lettuce-wrapped dragonfly, which comes drizzled with twin sauces. Friends enjoy the Ridgewood Roll, which has been, in deference to the Southern pallette’s preference for fried food, battered and dunked in boiling oil. The crawfish rolls are just spicy enough; the shrimp and crab taste market-fresh.

The prices here are lower than Little Tokyo or Nagoya, especially at lunch, when the menu includes generous bento boxes: chicken tempura and sushi, sushi, and sashimi boxes, among others. The frequent diner program adds to the value, snagging every fifth lunch box free. At night, if your check tops thirty bucks (hard to do, given the reasonable prices), you’ll get a card for a free roll to be used on your next visit.

When Haru first opened, the staff — eager to seem attentive — could creep some people out (friends felt "watched" or "stared at" by certain waiters, who did, in fact, tend to hover). But Haru’s matured now, and the folks waiting tables are models of quiet efficiency.

So, while upscale Jacksonians are pounding down high-dollar rolls at Nagoya, I’m getting fresher, better food for less at my neighborhood Haru. Stop in, but keep the place between us, okay? I like Haru so much myself, I almost kept it a secret from you.

Mark McElroy

I'm a husband, mystic, writer, media producer, creative director, tinkerer, blogger, reader, gadget lover, and pizza fiend.

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Who Wrote This?

Mark McElroy

I'm a husband, mystic, writer, media producer, creative director, tinkerer, blogger, reader, gadget lover, and pizza fiend.

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