Great Barrington: Shiro

GREAT BARRINGTON -- The stretch of Route 7 just north of Great Barrington has been getting increasingly cluttered in recent years, so it is grand to see an eyesore not only salvaged, but also transformed into an asset.

Approaching Shiro's handsome off-white exterior with its simple lanterns, slanted roof and massive wooden door, you would have to look closely to recognize the abandoned Burger King from which it metamorphosed.

Owners Haidong Yu and Barbara Glassman shiver when they recall the condition they found the building in when they first looked at it. But from the first, Haidong knew just what he wanted. Ignoring the extensive water damage and decay, he at once started plotting out where to put his sushi bar and hibachi room.

In February the restaurant opened -- a

credit to his vision of an authentic Japanese setting, comely and serene. Custom-made box lanterns and window screens filter gentle light through panes of rice paper. Natural woods are set off by an understated color scheme of mauve, celadon and gray and accented by Oriental prints, a lacquer screen, and a large painting of flowers on silk.

Over the sushi bar is a series of intriguing wooden paddles covered with calligraphy. What in Japan would serve as the menu, has become wall sculpture.

Soon after we were seated, our waitress arrived with a delightful example of Japanese hospitality -- small lacquer trays with hot washcloths for freshening up before the meal.

Forgoing the adventure of a "sake martini" we opted for a more traditional crock of warmed sake, the lightly sweet Japanese rice wine that seems essential to the cuisine, and a pot of the house specialty tea, a dusky blend of green tea and brown rice.

While sipping our drinks, we perused the fairly extensive menu, waylaying our waitress with a volley of questions which she cheerfully answered.

The menu itself answered many questions as it offered explanations of unfamiliar dishes as well as such interesting tidbits as that "sushi" is pronounced "zushi" after a vowel.

We finally made our selections and did not have long to wait before tucking into haru maki ($3.95), a tasty fried spring roll filled with shrimp, white fish, carrot and napa cabbage, and thoughtfully slashed into several small pieces for easy handling (and sharing).

Soup and salad, included with the entrees, arrived simultaneously and we dipped into the hot broth first. It was a mildly salty brew flavored with miso paste, seaweed, silken tofu and scallions.

The salad was the low point of the evening. A small bowl of none-too-crisp lettuce and a radish slice or so was topped with a sweetish carrot, orange and ginger dressing.

We were glad that we had also ordered a side of green seaweed salad ($4.95). It was a bountiful heap of brilliant emerald green strands, both crunchy and chewy and dressed with sesame oil and a spattering of black and white sesame seeds. Mermaid food it seemed, with a hint of brine.

As we paused between courses, we had a chance to observe the neighboring hibachi room, where Haidong's brother, Haitao, coifed in a flamboyant red toque, makes cooking a performing art.

His early training as a ballet dancer is obvious in the grace and coordination with which he flourishes his knife, leans, serves, then swirls to attend to another diner.

But back to our dinners. My daughter's Nabe Yaki Udon ($14.95) was served in an individual cast iron pot.

Large, pleasantly glutinous noodles (udon), chicken, snow peas, baby corn, carrots and shiitake mushroom slices were attractively arranged in the pot in a broth made with kombu seaweed and dried bonito, a cousin of tuna.

The broth was light enough to magically absorb the flavor of whatever happened to be on the spoon. The dish was topped with a poached egg, and proved a good choice for a person of not too intrepid taste.

My tricolor sushi ($20.95) was lovely to behold. A gorgeous aquamarine and midnight blue porcelain plate set off pink yellowtail, ruby tuna and glistening orange salmon sashimi (raw fish) over ovals of sushi rice in what looked like a jeweled mosaic when lined up in snug tic-tac-toe rows on a bed of carrot and daikon-radish threads.

A generous mound of sinus-searing, pungent green horseradish (wasabi) occupied one corner and a heap of ruffled picked ginger another. Soy sauce was provided along with tiny rectangular dishes for dipping. Each piece was a two or three bite affair, with meltingly fresh fish and a bland background of rice. No way I could finish all, even with a little help from my friends.

Breathtaking in its own way was my husband's Shiro Tempura Combo ($21.95), a large dish filled with shrimp, strips of salmon, squid, a lobster tail and a heap of veggies fried in a crispy tempura batter and crowned with a gorgeous fan of fried noodles.

Excavations in the veggie pile unearthed slabs of sweet potato and squash, broccoli, onion and green pepper rings and a huge mushroom cap.

A dipping sauce of soy and mirin (sweet rice wine) accompanied.

Although dessert is not a priority in Japanese dining, my daughter could not resist the call of the fried ice cream ($5.50). A scoop of ice cream is wrapped in a thin layer of cake, dipped in sweetened tempura batter and quick-fried. It is served split open with a pouf of whipped cream, a cherry, and a splattering of chocolate sauce to further gild the lily.

My husband and I sampled the house ice creams ($3 each). My green tea had a subtle tea flavor nipped with tannin to offset the sweetness. But the standout dessert was the red bean ice cream. Pureed beans gave it a velvety texture and a flavor reminiscent of chestnuts.

One bite and he was grinning with his smug "mine's the best" look that would be infuriating if he weren't so willing to share.

Red beans turn up in many oriental sweets, from dumpling fillings to puddings. In fact Shiro also offers a red bean gelatin (yokan) which is cut into little flowers and triangles and eaten as a confection rather than with a spoon.

Fresh seasonal fruit is another dessert option.

Shiro is obviously off to a good start. There are a few details that could use polishing.

The waitstaff will probably need to be increased to handle the volume more efficiently. At a neighboring table, one guest languished a good five minutes after her fellow diners were served.

And there is not a convenient place for guests to wait before being seated.

But there is time to work out such rhythms before the summer season sets in. Even now, tables fill quickly, and reservations are advisable, especially on weekends.

In fact, business is so good that the restaurant just decided to stay open seven days a week. And there is more to look forward to. In the summer there will be patio dining under red umbrellas, and Haidong dreams of putting in a traditional Japanese garden.

April 25, 2001