Redefining the realm of what constitutes as Jew food, David Bouhadana stands behind his intimate omakase sushi counter under the bright pink glow of his neon sign that reads “Sushi by Boū” in the back of Gansevoort Market turning out some killer sushi. As New York City Jew, I was raised eating lox on any given day on any given food item no questions asked. It’s no wonder that the idea of jews and raw fish living together harmoniously works for me. Hello, sushi! Be on board.

This is one of those experiences that you reminisce about after the fact—not because you want to, because you have to. Elaborating…you must must must make a reservation as they only take about five seatings per lunch break and eight(ish) for the dinner slots. I get the distinct feeling that walk ins are not welcome and perhaps frowned upon. Once you’ve made this experience happen for yourself, don’t blink, don’t chat about the food, for god’s sakes don’t take a call, just live it and enjoy every bite for what it is and talk about it when it’s over. This experience is no joke. It’s thirty minutes long—like my high school curfew it’s not one minute later—like there is a countdown clock stationed on the top of the counter and, ready or not, one at a time, piece after piece of sushi is placed down before you in an extremely timely fashion. The omakase menu consists of twelve pieces of sushi. That’s one piece every two-and-a-half minutes. And, every single mouthful is bomb!

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