If you know Sean and me, you know that the way to our hearts is most definitely through our stomachs – and you also know that the promise of a good meal is largely what drives our wanderlust. Together we have enjoyed the best smørrebrød in Copenhagen, sampled hákarl (fermented shark/also, admittedly, the least appetizing dish we’ve ever had) in Reykjavik, eaten our weight in camembert on the coast of Northern France and devoured jerk chicken beachside in a tiny Jamaican shack. And yet, one of my personal top-five culinary travel moments to date took place in a tiny, dimly lit restaurant in New York’s NoMad neighborhood just a couple of months ago.

We knew we wanted to experience a Michelin-starred restaurant for our anniversary, but with 76 starred restaurants in New York City, our choices were vast. When we stumbled upon Noda, we knew it just may have to be our first. We’re adventurous eaters and enjoy experiences that test our tastebuds, while providing a sense of inspiration and story. We also love (love!) seafood and especially like Asian flavors, so the promise of Chef Shigeyuki Tsunoda’s reimagining of a traditional Japanese omakase dinner built around the guest experience immediately hooked us. After months of stalking their limited online reservation system, we scored a seat at the restaurant’s acclaimed half-moon-shaped counter (made of an 800-lb. piece of unfinished wood that is sanded daily, may I add). Note: Noda hosts dinner twice nightly, with only 10 seats available for each.

Most definitely not meant to be enjoyed, much less written about, in a New York Minute, no words can perfectly sum up our nearly ethereal dining experience at Noda (named for Chef Tsunoda). Our evening began with a warm and cozy welcome in the beautifully and dimly red-lit bar. There, bar director and mixologist extraordinaire Nick Krens, welcomed us with a bevy of delightful recommendations, from which I opted for a sake-based herbal-tea infusion that was as unique of an experience as it was delicious. Perhaps it was the dreamy lighting or the comfiness of the cobalt banquettes, but I felt suddenly uplifted and transported. While I was dreaming out loud, Sean ordered a Japanese whiskey flight; his decadent samples included a Yamazaki 18-Year Single Malt and a 17-Year Hibiki® Whisky. Needless to say, he was pleased.

Promptly at 8:45 p.m., the curtains to the dining area opened, and Chef Tsunoda was ready to welcome us. Admittedly, we didn’t know what to expect as we were ushered to our respective seats at the beautiful wood counter, complete with pink velvet stools and minimalistic but lovely place settings. What ensued over the next 2.5 hours was nothing short of artistry. The delightfully engaging Chef Tsunoda orchestrated an omakase experience that left us speechless (give or take the multiple Oooohs, Ahhhsss and Ohmaghaaads). Amid 20+ freshly prepared courses, it’d be nearly impossible to pick a highlight – though after tasting three grades of maguro (tuna) and ankimo (monkfish liver), sashimi will never be the same again. Note: Now that some time has passed, I feel comfortable saying that the ankimo was, hands-down, my most favorite dish. The uni-topped custard was possibly a close second. Perhaps I need to have them all over again just to be certain.

Beyond the delicacy of the food (the fish is flown in from Japan, with some sourced locally), Noda stands out for its deliberate commitment to experience. Chef Tsunoda is present, engaged, entertaining, attentive, ever-knowledgeable and notably humble. The dinner is a give-and-take of flavors, conversation and sharing – an up-close-and-personal experience for the Chef and each diner alike. In the background, a ballet of hospitable servers – dressed to the nines in Comme des Garçons uniforms – unintrusively kept the drinks flowing and prepared the stage for the next serving. I savored the last course feeling satisfied in more ways than one, though reluctant to have the evening end. 

And before I end my musing (and salivating), I must talk decor for a moment. The Ken Fulk-designed space is exquisite (the word can be used this to describe such an atmosphere, yes?). The short walk from the street, through the unmarked door and the narrow hallway up to Noda’s front door is a transportive experience in itself. Immediately, the dim red-hued lighting creates a romantic, yet elegantly rustic ambiance. The artwork appears to be Japanese-inspired, while also being wildly creative. The bathroom (hear me out here) is a work of art in itself (think lush green tile, candles and abstract wallpaper). The bar, built around an antique apothecary cabinet, is teeny but inviting and very well-stocked. The pink velvet stools at the dining counter are as comfortable as they are elegant. And I’m still thinking about the richness of the cobalt-blue banquettes in the bar area. Truly, it felt otherworldly for these two Michelin Star first-timers. Imagine my pleasant surprise when I read that the enchantment I felt was exactly what Fulk was going for when designing the restaurant. As he told Architectural Digest in 2018:

“As our lives get more hectic and we're so hyper-connected, and the world seems mad, it's great to recognize these experiences. With the restaurant, you're taking people off the gritty street and into this kind of ‘Alice in Wonderland experience.’ You have two hours of this otherworldly time that you're sharing with ten people, where you leave the rest of the world behind."

And that we did. 

Turns out our first Michelin Star will undoubtedly be our North Star for all dining experiences to come.  

My photos are featured below (though they don’t do the full experience justice). Noda is located at 6 West 28th St., between Broadway and Fifth Avenue. Walk one step too far, and you’ll miss it. Reservations are absolutely required. To learn more, visit noda.nyc.com.