A tasty hi-tech treat

But I wasn't getting off that lightly. This is not your common or garden traditional Japanese joint. This is a 'restaurant complex' comprising a dining room with sushi counter, a bar selling cocktails and kobachi (Japanese equivalent of tapas) plus a delicatessen-cum-food boutique.

And it's crammed with thrillingly alien Japanese technology, from the Professor Branestawm-ish noodle machine that does everything from mixing and kneading the dough to boiling it, to the liquid-crystal glass that separates deli and bar.

And let's not overlook 'the paperless toilet technology from Japan'. The in-loo info tells us, without a hint of double-entendre, that 126million Japanese people enjoy it every day, the penetration rate being particularly high in metropolitan cities.

With its gusts and jets, it's not an experience I'm likely to forget in a hurry. Gosh, no. 'All we could hear were squeals,' reprimanded the men in our party.

Saki Bar & Food Emporium is the offspring of enthusiasts; you can tell by the evangelical approach to the food. Ask the deli assistants anything you like about the culinary arcana and gadgets and they will happily provide tips and translations.

Chefs have been headhunted from some of the capital's top Japanese names such as Suntory and Ikeda. Front of house staff are smiley and helpful, not even flinching when we ordered a further round of sushi after asking for the bill.

The menu is more accessible, and shorter, than your usual fashionable nouveau Japanese. It's split into three sections: the snacky, small plate kobachi; the noodle and rice-bolstered carbo; and okazu, protein-dominated light mains. Then there are lists of nigiri and maki sushi. You can order as little or - as we inevitably did - as much as you like.

There wasn't a genuinely duff note. The basic sushi we tried (fatty tuna and yellowtail) was good, the fish perky and sweet, the rice perfectly executed. We liked the chirashi (scattered) sushi too, chunks of fresh fish on a bowl of rice, drizzled with a fiery mayo and beautifully presented on rustic, glazed pottery.

Next, from Carbo, una don - gorgeously smoky, tender eel, falling off its skin on to hot rice. Why don't we eat more eel? Cast away thoughts of threatening lumps in East End jelly; when it's done well, as here, it is a ravishing, luxury fish.

So far, so classical; but we wandered into some so-now territory, such as foie gras teriyaki with daikon millefeuille - a brave if not entirely successful collision of austere, crisp radish and silkily rich liver. And snow crab wrapped in rice paper with ume plum purèe brought a subtle, difficult-to-eat roll of pearly fish, sweet fruit and astringent leaves.

If you have never tried monkfish liver (known as the foie gras of the sea), this is a great place to check it out: it came as an astonishingly generous lump in a sour-sweet ponzu dressing that cleverly sliced through its buttery, fishy richness. And a soft-shell crab was superb: beautifully fresh and crispy outside, melting inside.

So, good food. But there's also an intelligently assembled wine list, hot and cold sakes, weird and wonderful cocktails and unusual spirits.

And the place looks good too, swampy wasabi colours in the bar and glossy lacquers in the restaurant; unadorned apart from some curious stalagmitey wax sculptures in a garden of pebbles.

It's also vegetarian friendly and not greedily priced. So what's their angle? What's the catch? As far as we could see, there isn't one.

A meal for two with wine (or sake), water and service costs about £90.

Saki Bar & Food Emporium
West Smithfield, London, EC1A 9JX