Out to eat: Matsuya

The sushi and sashimi is expertly cut and displayed at Matsuya. (Credit: Amie Dworecki | Metromix)

When my parents came into town for the holidays, I decided not to take them along on my review of Matsuya, the quaint little Japanese restaurant down in Florence.

Mom and Dad are a pair of gentle Minnesotans who like their meat cooked dry and their casseroles unseasoned. Mexican food has been deemed "too spicy" for the folks, and forget sushi. (I can just picture my dad warily eyeing a slab of ruby red tuna, too polite to tell the server that someone forgot to cook his meal.)

But then I got to Matsuya, ordered a few things off the menu, looked at the spread and realized just how wrong I'd been. Would my parents have found something to love at Matsuya?

Oh, you betcha.

My boyfriend and I hit up Matsuya on a Wednesday night when business was slow but constant. We were among a crowd that included a young Japanese family, a couple of kids on a date and a group of four dudes in Kentucky gear. Our server showed up quickly with a tray of hot towels and brought us our beer - Kirin Ichiban for him, Kirin Light for me - even more quickly.

The menu at Matsuya is pretty extensive. There's plenty of sushi and sashimi but also hot-pot cooking (done at your table), rice bowls, noodle dishes and soups. You can get traditional Japanese-style multicourse meals or shrimp tempura appetizers or grilled squid or deep fried soft shell crab. Really, I could eat here for weeks without tiring my options.

What we picked was weird, but I swear we did it on purpose. We got the combination entrée, an assortment of sushi and sashimi, and the chicken katsu, a panko-breaded piece of meat that came with a side of potato salad. It was East meets, I dunno, fried chicken. Our server, who very calmly explained that the smelly thing she'd put before us as we walked in the door was a kind of "fish sausage," didn't bat an eye.

The sushi was as good as any I've had in town, simple and unadorned, with a swipe of wasabi where fish met rice.

The sashimi was expertly cut and arranged, and even the stuff I couldn't recognize melted in my mouth (save the mackerel, which will always make me shudder).

The surprise was the chicken. Light and crispy with a pile of potato salad that rivals any Midwestern mom's, it would have been the perfect thing to order for my parents.

Next time, I'll take them there. Maybe they'll be brave and try the ankimo (steamed monk fish liver in ponzu sauce - most definitely an acquired taste), but probably they'll stick to the cuts of meat they know.

No matter. I can get my "scary" fish, and they can get their comfort food, and we'll both go home happy.