Uchiko Offers Flame-Kissed Lesson in Subtle Excellence

There’s a parking garage adjacent to Uchiko in Plano’s Legacy West development, where if valet isn’t your style, you can self-park on the upper levels. The elevators in this garage are some kind of engineering marvel. The doors glide together in a silent dance, barely disturbing the elevator car in either direction. And when you press the button for your preferred floor, there are no jerky starts or stops, no noise and no sense of movement. The doors effortlessly part, and you’re magically on a different floor.
It's said that one of the signs of a truly wealthy person is that they don’t flaunt their riches, but everything they own is of impeccable quality. These elevators follow that theory; they must cost a a fortune, but it’s subtle excellence that escapes most of our senses. Money talks, but wealth whispers.

It’s also fitting that these elevators lead to Uchiko, the latest offering from James Beard Award-winning chef Tyson Cole. Like the elevators, Uchiko is expensive, but its brilliance is never shouted but instead delivered in hushed tones.

Uchiko (Japanese for “child of Uchi”) describes itself as the “fiery” counterpart to Uchi’s clean Japanese simplicity. Given the years of study Cole spent learning not just Japanese cooking but the language itself, he has some latitude to stretch the boundaries. And it doesn’t hurt that much of what we tried at Uchiko is steeped in the excellence that we’ve come to expect from the acclaimed chef and his team.

Inside, Uchiko strikes a tasteful and modern tone, with plenty of space between tables, a long sushi bar, and dark wood accents highlighted with the ideal amount of light, neither too dim nor too bright. Music is noticeable but is never an impediment to conversation. It's elegant but not stuffy, casual enough to enjoy, but stylishly impressive.While Uchiko's menu offers plenty of nigiri, sashimi and makimono that wouldn't feel out of place on Uchi's table, the key differences come "from the hearth." Just beyond the low seats at one end of the sushi bar is an impressive stainless steel wood grill. Think of this grill as Uchiko's soul, where they set themselves apart from many other Japanese restaurants. Offerings from the grill are where we did much of our dining.

Dining solo on a weekday evening, we had a front-row view of the wood grill in action as chefs tended the fire and executed orders. The golden flames glistened off the shiny stainless steel, but we felt little or no warmth from the fire and never caught a whiff of smoke. The exhaust system that's in place must have cost a pretty penny, its exhaust note muffled to the point of fiction. Again, ultra high-end, but not flashy.
Most of Uchiko's dishes are sized like tapas, which allows for plenty of opportunity to traipse across the menu. At the sushi bar, we opened with the crisped pork belly ($21), served hot, but not from the grill. The half dozen slices of pork belly, fat brilliantly rendered, offered a sweet, savory and slightly spicy note, and the delicate array of cabbage, carrots and beets provided a tempered balance.

More generously sized is the kinoko nabe ($20.50), a dish also available at Uchi. Trumpet mushrooms are seasoned and steamed, then served atop a bowl of koshihikari rice and topped with an egg yolk, then blended table side by our server. Two of us split the dish on a follow-up visit, and it could be a meal on its own, a subtle reading of salty and acidic flavors interspersed with soft and crunchy textures.

Before we settled on Uchiko for this month's review, the Observer's Lauren Daniels told us the grilled sea bass ($65) was the best dish she'd eaten this year, and she went on to write as much a week or so later. We had to find out for ourselves, and truth be told, it's a top contender. Bring a companion and consider this plate a compulsory order; it's easily sized to share, and possibly the best bang for the buck on the menu. If the sea bass is Uchiko's value offering, the grilled scallop ($24) might take the honors for the biggest splurge. When the dish appears, it's a stunner, presented in a shell-shaped dish filled with vermouth butter and topped with wilted Thai basil. The menu was also singularly accurate: the dish is one scallop, sliced into four bites. It's a hefty scallop for sure, perfectly seared, and we slathered each velvety slice in the vermouth butter for maximum effect. But on a cost-per-mouthful basis, the scallop might be the most expensive item on the menu outside of A5 beef.

Speaking of A5, there are plenty of ways to partake if your budget allows. There's an A5 hot rock for $70, and $115 procures an A5 strip steak from the hearth. Think of these as the garish displays of conspicuous consumption. We opted for the more modestly priced Wagyu New York strip at $48 for a four-ounce cut in a show of elegant restraint.

Without prompting, it comes grilled medium rare, each medallion exquisitely tender and flavorful. There's a heavy obsidian char on the outside, and the interior a deep ruby. Each bite wants for nothing, but charred snow pea leaves and a buttery sauce are plated alongside to offer counterpoints to the beef. Also speaking of A5, our server delivered a small bamboo box of fries, which, she explained, were fried in A5 tallow. We imagine it's the French fry that one-percenters eat, and we may be ruined for lesser versions going forward.
Two of us shared Uchiko's pineapple tart ($12) for dessert, again a model for subtle and balanced flavors from the flaky crust, tart lime and sweet pineapple. The dish was a recommendation from our server, who never misplaced a step in menu explanations and suggestions.

Service of our courses was well-spaced, and Uchiko must have a small army of staff who quickly appear when a plate is emptied before disappearing back into the shadows.

While Uchiko has an admittedly high price point, the staff also is generous with complimentary add-ons to your meal. Those one-percenter fries, for example, don't appear on the menu and didn't show up on our bill, either. When dining with a companion, our server comped us two pieces of engawa flounder nigiri, dressed with lemon lime and ponzu zest before our main courses arrived. And when we dined solo at the sushi bar, we were presented with a mango sorbet palate cleanser, and our sushi chef served up a hearth-grilled oyster, both free of charge.

Such casual generosity is on-theme for Uchiko. Other Japanese spots can be flashy and garish, like a gold Rolex. Uchiko is a Jaeger-LeCoultre; yes, it's expensive, but understated instead of gaudy, apparent when you're truly paying attention. It's a splurge, but one that we're happy to make for the resplendent experience.

Uchiko, 7801 Windrose Ave., Suite H 150, Plano. Sunday – Thursday, 4–10 p.m.; Friday – Saturday, 4–11 p.m.