Ru San’s

505 12th Ave. S. 252-8787

Lunch: 11:30 a.m.-2:30 p.m. Mon.-Fri. Dinner: 4:30-11 p.m. Mon.-Thurs.; 4:30 p.m.-midnight Fri.-Sat.; 4-11 p.m. Sun.

Price range: $7.50 to $30

Some years ago, a rising young country music singer was out on the road doing what rising young country music artists do: promoting her record. She was riding high on the crest of a smash-hit debut single, which had propelled her first album to platinum status, a remarkable feat for an artist just out of the gate. Her ascent had not been hurt by her comely good looks, a traffic-stopping body and a certain verve and sassiness.

She proved it to one particular radio personality, who asked her a question she had probably been asked a dozen times that day: “So, how do you account for your incredible success?” Her right-off-the-tip-of-her-tongue reply: “No gag reflex.”

I have to say, I wasn’t crazy about her music, but I absolutely loved the singer’s frank assessment of her talent. I thought of her one recent Saturday night as I prepared to compete in the Sake Bomb contest taking place at my table at Ru San’s, the rowdy and rambunctious new sushi restaurant that opened last fall in The Gulch, in the narrow divide between the former 6º and the new BarTwenty3.

I had never heard of a Sake Bomb before my first visit to Ru San’s, and once I witnessed a competition taking place at the bar on my way in, I had no intention of participating. But there is just something about the unrestrained giddiness of this restaurant—particularly when charismatic fireball owner Ru Nagata is on duty Thursday through Sunday—that sucks you in and compels you to behavior you thought you’d left behind somewhere around age 30. (This is assuming, of course, that you’ve reached this point in your life and that you’ve actually left such behavior behind.)

Sake Bomb-offs go like this: A tall glass is filled about one-third full with cold beer, and two chopsticks are laid across the top of the glass to form a bridge. A cup of sake is placed on top of that bridge, and the entire setup is placed in front of each participant. A countdown ensues—if Ru San is present, he does so over a microphone—and at blast-off, participants pull apart the chopsticks, and the sake cup overturns into the glass of beer, which is picked up and chugged, then slammed onto the table when emptied. The first to slam his or her drained glass back on the table is the winner and the recipient of a Ru San’s gift certificate.

I knew I had that baby won before the countdown even began; my opponents were hardly halfway through when I was slamming my glass and raising my arms into the air to an appreciative chorus of cheers. It’s a wonder I didn’t swallow the sake cup.

While I wouldn’t exactly put Champion Sake Bomber on my résumé—it’s not rocket science, after all—there’s no question that it was mindless fun. Sort of like the restaurant: not exactly rocket science—or fine dining—but fun in a goofy kind of way. In a nutshell, Ru San’s is Cirque du Sushi; it’s a dazzling, amped-up, unabashed show, but who can go to the circus every day?

There are people who go to Ru San’s on a regular basis, judging by the crowds that pack its booths, the two dozen high-stools fronting the stainless steel sushi bar and the two large communal tables. But if you are a novice, it is helpful to approach the experience with some advance information.

There are people who go to Ru San’s on a regular basis, judging by the crowds that pack its booths, the two dozen high-stools fronting the stainless steel sushi bar and the two large communal tables. But if you are a novice, it is helpful to approach the experience with some advance information.

The cover of Ru San’s menu carries the addresses of the restaurant’s five other locations; Nagata and wife Debbi opened the first in Atlanta in 1992, followed by three more there and one in Charlotte, N.C. In Atlanta, it has been voted Best Sushi Restaurant by readers of Creative Loafing again and again; interestingly, it has also been the recipient of some pretty deadly barbs fired from the same paper’s critics. Not everyone likes a circus with their meal.

Printed in a block on the bottom half of the menu is Ru San’s Policy, a 15-item list of warnings, beginning with No. 1: We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone. At No. 15: Minimum $10 if you are seated at sushi bar. I haven’t seen so many rules since I was in New Orleans, where it is apparently necessary to post guidelines for public behavior.

I’d like to add a couple of my own warnings to future diners at Ru San’s: Do not come to Ru San’s for an intimate dinner. Do not come here to discuss anything serious. (Though it might not be a bad place for a public breakup: Bombs away!) Do not come to Ru San’s if you are prone to epileptic fits while viewing Japanese anime, which is frequently broadcast on the overhead televisions. Do not come to Ru San’s if you cannot tolerate pulsating dance music played at a volume that prohibits easy conversation.

The last rule on my list: Do endeavor to get a copy of Ru San’s menu before your visit. When confronted with the multi-page book listing dozens of appetizers, a dozen Pacific Rim dinners, more than 40 Japanese dinners, 20-plus noodle dishes, a full page of yakitori and tempura, and another page of nigiri and maki, $1 special sushi rolls, six New Special Sushi Rolls, and 50 Original House Sushi Rolls, you might just get so befuddled that you throw your hands up and order a California Roll. Surely, there is a rule against that.

Even armed with a menu and sitting undistracted in the peaceful confines of my own office, I felt like I was going to black out by the time I got to No. 33 in the Original House Sushi Roll category. “Fire Cracker Maki (roll): White & Red Tuna rolled with sushi rice, flash-fried till crunchy brown Shiro Maguro Slightly Cooked and Aka Maguro Remains Rare. Spicy Red Sauce with a touch of mayo.” What?

The breadth and complexity of the menu, combined with the loud, frenetic activity in this tightly configured room, are enough to inspire a severe bout of ADD. Thankfully, I was spared this ordeal by two factors: I was dining with a party who had previously Ru San’d, and they were new acquaintances of Nagata’s, which meant that the owner himself chose several dishes for us to try.

Consulting the menu, one finds items familiar to most American-Japanese restaurants: sashimi, miso soup, teriyaki, tempura, edamame and seaweed salad, for instance. There are some oddities, particularly among the appetizers, like the freshwater eel with pesto-seasoned sushi rice baked with mozzarella cheese, or the baked potatoes cooked with white cream sauce and topped with melted mozzarella. The most puzzling dish sent to our table was the fried squares of tofu-on-a-stick wrapped in bacon. I don’t think I’ve ever seen tofu and bacon paired. The two fry baskets behind the sushi bar are constantly in use executing the many deep-fried items on the menu; the fried calamari dusted in Cajun seasonings seems particularly popular.

Pacific Rim dinners are, with one exception, exclusively seafood. The Udon Bird’s Nest Lobster Cake With Tomato Batayaki Sauce was rich and heavy; besides the chopped lobster meat, the large nest of udon noodles also came topped with shrimp and scallops. Had I been ordering, I would have chosen the miso-marinated sea bass, lightly grilled and simmered with miso-mirin sauce, and topped with sautéed shiitake, enoki and button mushrooms.

In my view, tuna is the real bomb at Ru San’s. It shows up again and again—in appetizers, rolls, sashimi and dinners—and each appearance at our table that night was a delight. Whether flash-seared or raw, the tuna was beautifully and generously hand-cut and pristinely fresh; when served raw, it arrived just under room temperature, which enhances its flavor. Boasting sashimi, seared tuna, tuna tartare, tuna ahi poki and spicy aioli tuna, the large Tuna Symphony platter deserved an ovation. Ideally suited for sharing, it is a bargain at $16.95.

Those with an aversion to fish will be well-pleased with one of our favorite dishes that night, an entrée-sized salad of crisp inner leaves of romaine topped with large squares of Kobe beef and big slices of meaty mushrooms sautéed in butter and red wine sauce.

Ru San’s seats 120, and on weekend nights, tables turn briskly but stay full right up until closing at midnight. Midday is also congested, thanks to the $8.75 all-you-can eat buffet of sushi, sautéed and steamed veggies, fried calamari, tempura, grilled teriyaki chicken or beef, noodle dishes, soup, salad and even dessert rolls. Because of the crowds, nothing sits long enough to become unappealing, as is often the case with buffets.

Ru San’s is certainly not for everybody, but it has found a huge Nashville audience who like their dinner with a show—particularly when they feel a part of that show. It’s as showy, flashy and action-packed as a three-ring circus, and Ringmaster Ru Nagata would make Barnum and Bailey proud.