LA sushi can be a profusion of leather-walled, dojo-inspired, glittering eateries, slinging gaudy rolls with as many superfluous ingredients as Pizza Hut has repulsive mutant crust variations. For substance over flash, hit Sushi Ike
Ike's a microscopic Garden of Gorging that shares a Hollywood mini-mall with a medical marijuana dispensary (countering the convenience of immediate snack-lust with the fear of running into dreadlocked friends from high school). Each morning, their master chefs combs through the fish markets for the finest aquatic bounty, cleaving "I saw it first!" competitors into delicious but cannibalistic pieces of "sucka maki". The menu's theme -- sushi and sashimi, no "spicy" anything -- manifests itself in no-nonsense, fleshy delicacies as naked and irresistible as a bathing Horatio Sanz
The room only seats 20, not counting the tiny sushi bar -- which happens to be the only place where you can get Ike's seared salmon sushi. Meant to be eaten immediately off the grill, its fish-and-rice deliciousness will guarantee that, even in a dispensary-induced haze, you'll never hanker for a spicy cream-cheese-mango-kitchen-sink roll again.