Leave with a Fish-Eating Grin: PokiNometry

Build your own poke bowls with all the right ingredients

Just the name, PokiNometry, is enough to discourage this writer whose lifetime nemesis is any form of mathematics. Plus, why isn’t it “poke” instead of “poki”? The spelling is hinky. After exhausting my weak excuses, I give in to trying Anaheim’s build-a-poke-bowl canteen, and leave with a fish-eating grin. Three times.

Open since March, this downtown storefront is always busy, and for good reason. All the elements of delectable Hawaiian poke are present: cubed raw fish, white or brown rice, fresh white onions, cucumbers, and avocado, plus mild to incendiary sauces, and vibrant garnishes of smelt roe, sesame seeds, nori, hot pickled ginger, and sinus-clearing wasabi. And it’s exactly the way you like it—think Chipotle-style assembly: Pick the size, pick the rice, then on to scoops of fish. Albacore? Yellowtail? Salmon? Scallops? Octopus? Yes, please. My medium bowl of brown rice under a mix of shrimp, tuna, and yellowtail bathed in spicy dressing with a squirt of “dynamite sauce” is so luscious and satisfying that I build another to take home. Follow your bowl down the line as cheerful poke genies pile it on, mix it up, and top it off with all the flourishes you desire.

Ferry your bowl to a bare wood bench in the 50-seat space, and chow down. You’ll fit right in if you bring a few pals and everyone pays exclusive attention to their phones. Which is a shame given the glistening, riotous colors that make these poke bowls as pretty as a Kauai sunset.

**1/2

184 S. Harbor Blvd.,
Anaheim, 657-208-3488
pokinometry.com

 


 

20141218_PokiNometry_12
Owner Julian Fukue

at PokiNometry, a sushi restaurant in Anaheim, CA. Photo by Kevin J. Miyazaki/Redux

DECODING THE POKINOMETRY FORMULA
Some points, lines, and angles

An Idea Is Born
➔Julian Fukue, owner of Tustin’s Tommy’s Sushi, invented PokiNometry—the “i” represents sushi, the “Nometry” alludes to the DIY equation.

PokiNomics
➔ Build your bowl on a bed of rice, salad greens, or subpar tortilla chips. Or go for the wrap version. $7 to $11.

Parking Is Problematic
➔ Forget peak times. Go off-hours or park free for two hours in the Wells Fargo garage off West Broadway.

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