Conceptually fishy
Make Fish Poke & Sushi Burrito
The best way to enjoy Make Fish Poke & Sushi Burrito is to avoid the poke and sushi burritos.
Yikes. That sounds harsh, but it’s also a compliment to its snacks, the stuff of Asian fusion, munchie-fueled dreams.
The star of the lot is the pork belly asada fries ($8), a massive portion of thin, crispy fries that hold up remarkably to a coating of melted jack and cheddar cheese. Crunchy bell pepper and sweet mango chunks cut through the ooey gooey-ness, while sake-braised pork belly adds a deep savoriness. It’s the sort of thing I’ll crave late at night and only regret a little bit in the morning.
For a quicker fix, order the Spam musubi ($2). It’s an excellent rendition of the classic Hawaiian snack, with a hot slice of Spam encased in warm, seasoned rice and nori.
Though not quite as satisfying as the pork belly fries, the volcano nachos ($8) similarly excel with a bounty of textures and flavors. Two mounds of spicy tuna crown a heap of fried wonton chips, tossed with edamame, mango, jalapenos and Sriracha.
What’s wrong with Make Fish Poke & Sushi Burrito’s namesake dishes? Let’s back up a bit first. Make Fish is the rebranded version of Wrap N’ Roll Sushi Burrito. Same owners. Same sushi burritos. Slightly different concept and slightly higher prices.
Make Fish took over the Elk Grove location last fall and the Midtown location in February. They both sport minimalist, modern and neutral-toned looks. The biggest change, however, is the introduction of a build-it-yourself poke bar. Diners can check off an unlimited number of toppings and sauces for their made-to-order Hawaiian seafood salads.
Want wakame on there? And macadamia nuts? And crab salad? And masago? And cucumbers? And mango? With “five scoops” of fish? Say, salmon and tuna and octopus and shrimp and scallop? All in one? You bet!
The result sounds like a bargain, but it doesn’t taste like it. The fish legitimately pales in comparison to Fish Face Poke Bar. On one visit, the tuna was nearly flavorless. The scallop felt slimy and distinctly off. And there was so little of it under that huge mound of freebies. For $12.50, I felt ripped off and hungry.
Look at it this way: Fish Face touts its quality proteins, and since you have to pay for every topping, you wind up not adding a whole lot. The fish speaks for itself. At Make Fish, you can add as much other stuff as you want, all distracting from the raw fish beneath.
I prefer the preset creations ($9-$12). You can order these over rice, as a sushi burrito or as a kale salad. I know, not everything needs to have kale, but we’ll get to that later.
My frustration with the sushi burritos—essentially, giant sushi rolls—carries over from the Wrap N’ Roll days: the fish isn’t great, the nori wrap becomes stringy and textural variance is severely needed. They’re also difficult to eat, completely falling apart once you start approaching the bottom.
Now, I was honestly ready to make fun of the kale salad-sushi idea, but I enjoyed the version with crunchy pieces of soft-shell crab, tangy cucumbers, fried wonton strips, avocado, masago and chunks of fake crab over shredded kale. Tossed in a creamy, spicy dressing, it’s a salad that’s fun to eat.
And that’s when Make Fish succeeds, when it’s playful—not merely following a trend.