Soft-shell crab sliders at Masu by Nic Watt. Photo / Jason Oxenham
Soft-shell crab sliders at Masu by Nic Watt. Photo / Jason Oxenham
A decade ago, Auckland was crawling with crabs. Some days, it felt like the entire city was eating an under-developed exoskeleton.
Soft-shell crabs adorned our curries, tacos and bao. They were the dish du jour, and then they were gone, as diners moved to new trends like ox tongue, oystermushrooms and 5.30pm dinner reservations.
Last week at 5.30pm, at Masu by Nic Watt, I had a soft-shell crab flashback. Dangly, spidery claws and a crunchy juicy body splodged with chilli-citrus yuzu kosho mayo and stuffed inside a squid-ink infused slider. Would it be as good as I remembered?
The soft-shell crab is just a regular crab, post-moult and pre-hardening. The flesh that usually requires a torture chamber’s worth of implements to extract has, for a short while, just a paper-thin covering. Easy for the kitchen and even easier for the diner. Fry-bite-$11 thank you. The flavour was excellent, but how old was that bun? I wanted the squish of bread against the crisp of the crab and was, instead, picking dried flakes of blackened crust from my teeth.
They say nothing tastes as good as nostalgia. Masu, more than many Auckland restaurants, has a special place in my heart.
One year ago tomorrow (after two Covid interrupted starts) I got married at home. We ate Waiheke oysters and Ōamaru cheese in the sunshine and then, with a far, far smaller party than planned pre-pandemic, headed to the private dining room of this beautiful Federal St restaurant.
I’ve spent only a few short weeks in Japan. My lasting impression is a place where the natural world matters - where, even in the densest cities, green parks get equal billing with neon lights. Masu’s wooden furniture, marble counters and ceramic dishes gleam under soft, golden lights. It is situated opposite a casino, as urban as it gets, but its materiality feels imbued with respect for the handmade.
Masu by Nic Watt at Sky City. Photo / Jason Oxenham
We started our wedding feast - and this review dinner - with trevally sashimi ($11 for three pieces). Trevally is my favourite raw fish and Masu’s is masterful, with thick cut slices that yield so perfectly it’s like eating satin. If you think anyone can slice a fillet and bung it on a plate this is proof that, in the right hands, the simple becomes sublime.
It’s the same with the tempura ($21). Battered and deep-fried vegetables, right? Here, the fat-shatter is crisp and light; it turns stodgy kūmara into something ethereal and broccoli into a vegetable even a 9-year-old might eat.
Masu by Nic Watt at Sky City. Photo / Jason Oxenham
Way back when, Masu had a rockstar opening. Prime Minister John Key served the sake and everyone talked about the miso black cod. Chef Nic Watt had been working internationally with the Japanese robata-style restaurant brand Roka and now that charcoal grill cooking was available in Auckland.
The black cod (that used to cost $44) is still on the menu (at $72). My dining companion’s husband, like mine, is a kayak fisherman. It’s too easy to forget the price of fish when your Saturdays are full of free snapper but, at $38, the cedar-baked salmon felt more wallet-friendly. (The skin was nicely blackened but a little too elastic to the bite; conversely, I’d have preferred the flesh slightly less “done”.)
Masu by Nic Watt at Sky City. Photo / Jason Oxenham
Auckland Restaurant Month was in full swing when we visited and the waitstaff were doing an admirable job of running food out to a dining room that was, by 6.30pm, heaving. I was conscious of our two-hour table limit, but also grateful to be asked if we were ready to move from our small to large plate selections, and for the delivery of fresh plates.
My Masu menu flashback extended to dessert. Its signature wooden box full of molten chocolate and hazelnut pudding is very hard to resist. If you haven’t had it before, then I highly recommend getting your order in early. It takes a while to cook and is worth every second of your time and $20.
The joy of this job is tasting things that are not my first choice. And so to the apple blossom tofu with matcha macadamia crumbs, rhubarb-infused apples and white sesame icecream ($18.90). The verdict? Crazy for the icecream, loved the crumbs, didn’t mind the tofu and loathed the cubes of what might have been compressed apple (or an unadvertised jelly?) but tasted like bathroom cleaner smells. Dessert, like dinner, was 75 per cent successful with at least a 10 per cent bonus for the fabulous service - and the matrimonial memories.
Masu by Nic Watt, 90 Federal St, Auckland, ph (09) 363 6278. We spent $227 for two.
Masu has 23 sakes to choose from and, if you’re new to sake, then here’s the place to leap into it. Their boutique list is stylistically separated into “delicate, feminine, pure”; “floral, fruity, aromatic”; ”rich, earthy, spicy, umami”; and “unique, fun, alternative” world-famous sakes from Hiroshima, Kyoto, Akita, Fukui, Niigata, Kochi, Wakayama, Gifu, Ishikawa, Nara, Saitama and … Queenstown. I love that the cocktail list is categorised by “sweet”, “sour”, “salty”, “bitter” and “umami” to reflect the five senses of taste. Plus there’s a solid list of umeshus, shochus and Japanese whiskies that’ll wow you.
Page one of their tome-like list offers wine by the glass. The cheapest, Urlar Gladstone Pinot Gris at $14.50, and spendiest, a $30 goblet of Valli Vinyards [sic] Bannockburn pinot noir. Actually the word “vinyard” features throughout the list and I like it much better than the original. Bottle prices range from a $59 Zephyr Orgnic [sic] to a $6100 bottle of Chateau Latour 2008, but most hover in the $100-$150 range. I love that Masu has a small section on the wine list called “Japanese Connection”, detailing wines that are made in Japan or New Zealand by Japanese winemakers (Osawa, Taka K, Kimura, etc). Masu also has two “cellar” lists, a “last chance” cellar list of international cult favourites and a “big boys” cellar list of magnums to make you look like more of a baller.
Masu’s wine list is extensive and populated with way too many local and international classics to name. It’s impressive. Omedeto gozaimasu (congratulations).
