If George Rector, the author of the well-regarded ”Dining in New York” in 1939, were to stroll through the restaurants of modern Manhattan, he would find very little to surprise him. Even then, the city had a lot to offer an adventurous appetite. The most glaring exception was Japanese food, which Mr. Rector dismissed as ”derivative of the Chinese.” The only Japanese dish he seemed to like was sukiyaki; if he knew anything about sushi, he certainly kept it to himself.

What would Mr. Rector make of the city today, a place with such a passion for things Japanese that sushi is sold in supermarkets? It is hard to say. But if he returned to New York, I would certainly want to introduce him to sushi and sashimi. And I would want to do it at Hatsuhana.

Sushi bars can be extremely unwelcoming; many of the best make you feel that you have entered a club with incomprehensible rules that no one is willing to explain. Americanized sushi bars, on the other hand, often have showoff chefs who favor quantity over quality and do not know what they are doing. Hatsuhana is different: of all the city’s sushi bars, it is the one that best bridges the gap between East and West. Hatsuhana is a comfortable and welcoming restaurant where you can depend on being served high-quality sushi whether you speak Japanese or not.

But it can be more than that. Hatsuhana can surprise you.

One day I walked in expecting the usual competent sushi. I sat down, ordered some sake and ate the tsukidashi, the little side dish of bean sprouts marinated in sesame oil that so often appears as a surprise first course. I was examining the fish in the case, considering what to order, when a woman sat down two seats away. She smiled but said nothing; without a word the shokunin, the sushi chef, began to give her food.

She began with geoduck. Fresh giant clam is one of my favorite ways to begin a sushi meal, too. This was crisp and slightly crunchy beneath the teeth with that sweet, fresh oceanic flavor that characterizes the best. A good beginning.

I was considering what to have next when I noticed that a waiter had brought something to the sushi chef. He tilted the bowl so the woman could see what was inside: live shrimp. Dispatching them with a quick twist of the wrist, he pulled them from their shells and placed the translucent bodies before her. I motioned that I would like shrimp, too, and within moments I was eating the delicate, almost perfumed flesh. Then the chef broiled the heads and gave me those. I ate every bit, crunching the shells like nuts. They were delicious.

”Just give me whatever she is having,” I said now, convinced that I was in the presence of a pro. And I sat back as a feast appeared. We went on to baby abalone, a shellfish that seems overrated until you eat it raw. It was followed by extraordinary chu toro, the tuna that is richer than maguro but less rich than toro, which has the highest fat content (and the highest price). This was as soft as butter. Now the sushi chef cut yellowtail and placed the pale slices before me; it was as smooth as whipped cream.

Next came something to sink our teeth into, kanpachi, the delicate wild yellowtail imported from Japan.

I was happy to eat anything that my neighbor was eating. Now it was ika uni, pure white squid cut into long strips as thin as spaghetti and tumbled with golden sea urchin roe and a few thin slices of deep green toasted seaweed. It was like the most extraordinary pasta, a cool and refreshing dish for a summer evening.

As a finale, the chef handed us each a single hand roll, a cone of seaweed filled with rice dabbed with neri ume, the tart plum paste, a stick of yama imo, the crisp mountain yam of Japan, and a couple of leaves of shiso. The combination was perfect, the tartness of the deep purple paste rubbing against the sharpness of the minty leaves and the bland crispness of the yam. The textures felt good against my teeth and the flavors lingered in my mouth better than any dessert would.

That single meal was so exciting that it made me reconsider Hatsuhana. The sushi and sashimi are not always this extraordinary, but they are always very good. On subsequent visits, I have noticed that the quality of the cooked food is excellent, too; chawan mushi, the seafood and vegetable custard, is particularly good, and the broiled yellowtail collar is very satisfying. And although I would be happier if the restaurant did not serve tempura at the sushi bar (the smell of fried food is disconcerting when you are indulging in something as delicate as sashimi), the dish itself is nicely executed.

What would Mr. Rector say after a meal at Hatsuhana? I can’t be sure, of course, but I like to think that he would take a sip of sake, lean back and say, ”Things have certainly improved in the last 60 years.”

Hatsuhana
**

17 East 48th Street, Manhattan, (212) 355-3345.

Atmosphere: The clean lines and typical blond wood decor offer no clue that this is among the most welcoming sushi bars in Manhattan.

Service: So pleasant that even the chefs who do not speak very good English try to make themselves understood.

Recommended dishes: Giant clam, live shrimp, abalone, tuna sashimi, yellowtail, mackerel, ume-shiso hand roll, kanpachi, scallop, squid with sea urchin, chawan mushi, green tea ice cream.

Wine list: The long list of sake offers a few unusual bottles that are excellent.

Hours: Lunch: 11:45 A.M. to 2:45 P.M. Mondays through Fridays; dinner: 5:30 to 10 P.M. Mondays through Fridays, 5 to 10 P.M. Saturdays. Closed Sundays.

Price range: Sushi and sashimi starts at $2.50 a piece; set sushi meals are $17 to $35.

Credit cards: All major cards.

Wheelchair accessibility: Downstairs dining room and sushi bar are at street level, and there is a street-level restroom.

The quality of the cooked food is also excellent; chawan mushi, the seafood and vegetable custard, is particularly good, and the broiled yellowtail collar is very satisfying. Hatsuhana offers a long sake list, including a few unusual bottles that are excellent. – Eric Asimov