48Hiro Sushi

Since Hiro made his name in the '90s, sushi joints have multiplied like mushrooms after a rainstorm. And the service at Hiro has not improved: It remains painfully slow, made more irritating by the poor English communication skills of the servers. But nobody has fish as fresh as Hiro's, and nobody slices it like the master. His sushi of raw cherrystone clams melts like butter on the tongue. He barbecues freshwater eel perfectly. He slices raw beef so thin you could read through, and titillates the taste buds by matching the sweet beef with thinly sliced onion, ponzu sauce, scallions, and chili-spiked grated daikon. This is sushi for grownups.