Aug. 22 (Bloomberg) -- In the understated world of sushi restaurants, Sotohiro Kosugi's new place in the West Village says less than most.

Inside, Soto is typically bright white. Outside, it's not even that interesting.

There's a big blank vertical sign. There's a big blank horizontal space with nothing on it, although there are holes where a sign identifying the previous place used to be. This guy must think he's so famous nothing can keep customers away.

For 11 years, Kosugi, a third-generation sushi chef, made sushi in the South, developing such an impressive reputation in Atlanta that he decided to try his hand up in New York.

Here's a summary of his sushi: It's pretty good. It's expensive. The cut rolls are ordinary, although I tried a special, called ``today's roll,'' that was clever, mostly because it had a striated white-kelp wrapper. It reminded me of a bleached barber pole.

The individual pieces are more interesting, particularly bigeye tuna from Ecuador and horse mackerel dressed with ginger and chive.

So that's it, right?

Not at all.

Virtually every Japanese sushi restaurant offers an additional menu of cold and hot dishes. In the case of Soto, they're labeled ``From Sushi Bar'' and ``From Kitchen.'' Mostly we ignore them. I tried 10 cold, 10 hot.

Dazzling, Ingenious

They're dazzling. Of the 10 sushi-bar items prepared by Kosugi, seven were delightful, the other three merely very good. Of the 10 from the kitchen, which is supervised by his wife, Maho, not one was less than wonderful. This is cooked food on a par with the most ingenious in New York.

Some of the dishes are fancy, such as sea urchin wrapped in squid and topped with a raw quail egg. The yolk, once broken, coats the sea urchin, transforming silkiness into sumptuousness.

Some are simple, such as deep-fried flounder with a side of unusually intense ponzu sauce. This is some fried fish. I had it twice. I'd have it every day. It looks beautiful, like a ceramic fish caught in midflap. The skin is light, crisp, the meat succulent, soft.

All the dishes are meticulously assembled, visual triumphs. Some of the fish is fanned out. Some is molded. Tiny embellishments are painstakingly affixed.

Rigor Mortis

The flaws? Chopped horse mackerel was underseasoned. A salad of marinated geoduck clam came with such lively veggies the geoduck seemed superfluous. A presentation of half freshly killed and half day-old fluke isn't that interesting, unless you're a marine biologist enthralled by rigor mortis.

What not to miss? Any dish with sea urchin. Broiled langoustine enhanced with shiitake mushrooms and a scent of truffle oil. White shrimp in an alluring ginger-shiitake broth. Broiled lobster, but only if you love mayonnaise. Steamed lobster with creamy sea-urchin mousse. Garlicky peppered toro.

The tempura is particularly interesting. It comes with two garnishes, a traditional dipping sauce and a lemon-salt one-two punch. Squeeze, then sprinkle. Couldn't be better.

The wine list is small, expensive and not particularly appropriate. Japanese beer comes very cold. The sake selection is fine, and the fruity, unpasteurized summer selections are worth a try. I liked the Tsukasa Botan, and not just because it was the cheapest.

Long Evening

Service is incredibly sweet, classically deferential and a tad clumsy. I'm not certain some of the waitresses and I share a common language. Your food might arrive ``tapas-style,'' as one waitress put it before serving dishes one at a time. It made for a long evening. You might get your food the ordinary way, everybody receiving a course at a time. No way of knowing.

And no desserts, at least not yet. I'm told they're coming.

The dishes, for the most part, aren't exactly traditional. Nor are they particularly exotic. They're plays on Japanese concepts, and they're absolutely accessible to the American palate.

American palates are a problem. On my first visit, there wasn't an Asian in the place. I hated the customers. The guy next to me was a middle-aged slob in a white T-shirt and orange shorts who swore constantly. A bimbo at the sushi bar kept pulling out a compact and fixing her makeup.

Bad customers can make any restaurant feel cheap. To be honest, I didn't think Soto looked so great even on subsequent visits when a better class of clientele -- including three or four Asians but no Japanese -- showed up.

The designer is Hiro Tsuruta, minimalist icon. Esteemed he may be, but I don't believe so much brightness and whiteness complements Kosugi's expansive, haute-Japanese cuisine.

A friend dining with me, more of a cultural anthropologist than I, informed me that in Manhattan, sushi restaurants have become the new coffee shops. They're where locals with plenty of middle-class money hang out.

For the sake of sushi restaurants, I hope she's wrong.

The Bloomberg Questions

Cost? Prices range from $4 for salmon or surf-clam sushi to $28 for steamed lobster with uni mousse.

Sound level? When customers are acting discourteously, unexpectedly loud.

Date place? I don't think sushi restaurants, with their stark furnishings and laboratory-level lighting, qualify.

Inside tip? That bigeye sushi -- some marinated and some not, some medium-fatty toro and some lean maguro -- are soft, creamy and sweet. You might never seek bluefin again.

Special feature? The chopsticks are beautifully sanded and perfectly tapered, with a lustrous grain. Where have chopsticks like these been all my life?

Private Room? No.

Lunch? No.

Will I be back? Absolutely, for a nice hot meal.

Soto is at 357 Sixth Ave., near Washington Place, Manhattan. Information: +1-212-414-3088.

(Alan Richman is a restaurant critic for Bloomberg News. The opinions expressed are his own.)

To contact the writer of this story: Alan Richman at thecritic@optonline.net.

Last Updated: August 22, 2007 00:08 EDT