The name says it all: “nori” — the seaweed of the sushi counter — and “boi” — the mischievous, confident spirit of a new generation. No old-school white tablecloths, no fussy ritual.
Instead: theater. Cold mist curling over black stone, ruby-red fish in a wooden box, each bite set on a pedestal like a gallery piece. Dramatic — but every cut is deliberate.
And behind the show, discipline: fresh ingredients daily, Vietnamese produce riding along in the wooden box — serious edomae in a playful soul.