If you close your eyes while sitting at Yamazato’s sushi counter, you could easily be in a quiet backstreet of Tokyo. There are no "fusion" rolls dripping in spicy mayo or unnecessary gold leaf flakes here. Instead, it’s all about the shun (seasonality) and the steady, rhythmic hands of Chef Ikuma Sato. A veteran with over 25 years of experience across Japan and Europe, Sato-san brings a level of authenticity to Hotel Okura Manila that makes a plane ticket feel redundant.
The setting is intentionally intimate—just six seats at a pale wood counter. This isn’t a place for large groups or rowdy celebrations; it’s a stage for a one-on-one dialogue between the chef and the diner. The silence is only broken by the soft slicing of fish and the occasional, lighthearted joke from Sato-san, who manages to be both incredibly precise and remarkably approachable.
At ₱9,500, the omakase is arguably the "sweet spot" on the menu. It’s a significant investment, but it’s one that reflects the logistical flex of having high-grade seafood flown in from Japan multiple times a week. You aren't just paying for dinner; you're paying for the technical mastery required to treat a piece of Shima-aji (striped jack) or Otoro (fatty tuna) with the respect it deserves.
The standout of the meal isn’t actually the fish, but the shari (rice). Chef Sato serves it at body temperature, seasoned with a subtle, high-quality vinegar that cuts through the richness of the fattier cuts. Each piece of nigiri is brushed with a whisper of nikiri soy before it hits your plate, meaning you never have to reach for a dipping bowl. It’s "chef’s way" or no way—exactly how it’s done in the best houses in Japan.
Between the cold rounds of sushi, you’ll find warm intermissions like their signature Chawanmushi. It’s arguably the silkies version of the dish you’ll find in Metro Manila, acting as a savory palate cleanser that resets your taste buds for the next wave of seafood. The pacing is deliberate; the chef watches your every bite, ensuring the next piece is pressed and served only when you are ready.
By the time you finish with a clean miso soup and a slice of perfectly ripe Japanese fruit, the experience feels complete. It’s a straight-up, no-gimmicks masterclass in Japanese restraint. If you’re looking for a meal that prioritizes product and technique over Instagram-friendly theatrics, this ₱9,500 seat is currently the best ticket in Newport.
