I recently participated in a focus group for a think tank commissioned by the real estate industry. Mainly, we were asked to explain apparent discrepancies in market research about human attachments to neighborhoods. For instance, large percentages of people surveyed will rank the “proximity to a sushi bar” as “very important” or “essential” when they choose a location to buy or rent. Yet a smaller percentage from the same sample groups admit to have “visited a sushi bar in the past 12 months.”

What is it about Japanese food that makes people want it to be convenient even if they don’t actually want it? Sociologists, psychologists, urban planners, realtors and food writers phrase their answers a little differently but they all can be translated this way: Sushi bars are cool and upgrade the perceived value of the neighborhood. Des Moines’ two newest sushi bars are each the first ever Japanese cafés in their neighborhood. I went looking to see how well they fit.

Dogtown is not a typical free enterprise zone. Drake owns so much of the real estate that they have been able to exert more control over tenants than is typical in other campus commercial areas. Fast sandwich stores and coffee shops abound but far fewer bars and beauty parlors have opened here than one would expect from the demographics of the neighborhood. From my experiences at 21, sushi could be a back door to the tavern market. I visited three times and never saw anyone else eating sushi. On one of those visits, the place was quite busy with folks having a good time. They weren’t ordering sushi though. I had five different waiters and none seemed to be aware of what the last might have said or done.

Sushi was fresher one day than another, which is common in Des Moines. One dish was not as described by a previous waiter and another was served without key ingredients. When I brought this to the attention of a different waiter, he apologized and brought me a comp beer. When I declined, another customer grabbed my beer and chugged it in a single gulp. Another customer, whom I have never met, offered to buy my a shot. Like I said, people were having fun. While going out the door, I was handed a bag with the missing contents of my order - excellent tempura. Values were quite good, if you don’t mind a little chaos.

Sushi fits Ingersoll more conventionally. That neighborhood considers itself the city’s most foodie and most multicultural. Noah’s, Jesse’s Embers, Kwong Tung, Ted’s, El Patio, the lunch counters of Dahl’s and Bauder’s and most of the boulevard’s taverns have all been thriving for around half a century. Flanagan’s,and Wellman’s aren’t a whole lot younger either. Star Bar and Bistro Montage are but they are forgiven because they are among the best restaurants in all Iowa.

Sakari’s crowd was a little older (sushi customers have the lowest average age among restaurant genres in America) than 21’s. The place was packed on two of my four visits. A Saturday night crowd was a hip mix of very well dressed Asian women and African American men, plus intense sports fans of all races who seemed to care more about style points in sushi, or vodka, than wardrobe. When an over-under number for a TV game went over, a customer offered me a free drink. People were having a lot of fun here too but most of them were also eating.

Along with hairdresser Jason Simpson (Sahar’s) and engineeer Sang Cam, Sakari is the latest venture of Nick Sisomphane, a young restaurateur from Eastern Iowa. At age 32, he grew up in family restaurants in Fairfield determined to get into “any business except restaurants.” But after dabbling in business management studies, he says he found himself enrolling at a sushi academy in California. After a three year stint as head itamae at Three Samurai in Iowa City, he opened his own teppanyakki house in Cedar Rapids, then sold his share of that and opened the very successful Sushi Kicchin in the Old Capitol Mall in Iowa City.

Nick says that he has high hopes for the Ingersoll venture where the menu is currently split about half traditional and half American style sushi, the latter adding fats like mayonnaise, cream cheese and avocado. Bento boxes have been ordered and large early crowds have encouraged him to offer off-the menu specials that he likes -

hamachi kama (yellowfin cheeks) were superb on a pair of my visits.

“The trucks that deliver fresh fish don’t come to Des Moines every day and all sushi places pretty buy from the same supplier. The key is fish maintenance. I try to keep fish fresh for two days as raw fish and then it gets cooked. It really helps when business is good right away.”

To that end, both the tuna tataki and grilled salmon delivered good value for less than $10. I tried four soups, three on the menu, and all had excellent stock, seafood in an Udon, beef bone in a pho and the “clear” and white soy paste in a miso.

Of 37 rolls, 9 were vegetarian. Nigiri included red and white tuna, snapper and four kinds of roe, but no belly or uni yet. Nick promised both as the customer base begins asking for them.

Bottom line - Both these places complement their neighborhoods in appropriate fashion. Neither is in Miyabi 9’s class yet.

21 Sushi

2311 University Ave., 369-7253

Mon. - Sat. Noon - 2 a.m.; Sun. 5 p.m. - closing

Sakari Japanese Restaurant

2605 Ingersoll Ave., 288-3381

Mon. - Fri. 11 a.m. - 2 p.m.; 5 p.m. - 10 p.m. with bar and appetizers available till 2 a.m.

Where does Des Moines’ eastside begin? After asking that question for decades, I’ve learned there are four different answers, depending on the source. For westsiders, the east side begins a block east of 2^nd Avenue and that’s a statement of faith. A considerable percentage of westsiders have never actually been there to see for themselves. If you’re a true east sider, one who knows what “Lee Township versus the world” means, it begins on the east bank of the Des Moines River, whatever street that happens to be. For southsiders, the answer doesn’t matter unless you’re running a ballot initiative that effects the southside. Then the answer is expediently adjustable. Finally, if you’re from Highland Park, the eastside begins “somewhere south and east.”

Highland Park is its own place and its food establishments reflect that. There are no cookie cutter chains here, just quirky independents and traditional favorites. Restaurants are bars and bars are restaurants and it’s been that way since liquor by the drink was legalized. Sharing a parking lot with a tattoo parlor, QV’s Home of Cavatelli is very much its own place too - half bar, half restaurant and all Highland Park. This is a slice of life café where Nelson Algren or Stud Terkel would have been comfortable. On my visits, Roller Derby recruiters were working patrons in the bar and Mike King was working the restaurant. King is an acoustic guitar playing singer who covers “storyteller” songbooks by Kenny Rogers, Michael Johnson, Willie Nelson and John Denver. His stylized voice registers somewhere between Neal Young and Gordon Lightfoot‘s range. There is never a cover charge to hear him in Highland Park.

Décor, featuring colored light globes that predate disco, matches wall North and Tech high school pennants from the mid 1950’s. If it weren’t for the immaculate shape they are in, one might think the red vinyl booths had not been recovered since Ike was president. While the furniture might be “retro,” the ambiance is simply traditional. Real flowers grace every table, next to wine list placards that offer six generic varieties - no vintners or vintages here, just no nonsense $4 a glass prices.

Sandwiches include both loose meat and whole patty versions of both beef and pork. I tried beef burgers, coney style beef burgers, hamburgers, sausage sandwiches, grinders and meat ball sandwiches - all scratch made sandwiches. QV’s chili was homemade with more kidney beans than one finds at Coney Island or George’s, the other local purveyors of old recipe chili. QV offered six full dinners that came with salads and ten others that did not. All included cavatelli, either as a side or a main dish. There was no potato or vegetable option, this is “the home of cavatelli.” In true Highland Park fashion, the word cavatelli does not mean the same thing here that means in the rest of Des Moines.

Instead of the doughy little dumplings that Calabrese immigrants brought to the southside, “cavatelli” here refers to a combination of six cutely shaped dry pasta, cooked and baked with rich red marinara and aged Provolone. Every dinner order also included garlic bread made with malty kaiser rolls that came as close as anything in town to the kummelwick rolls that so many eastern transplants miss in Iowa.

I tried stuffed peppers, sirloin steak and rib dinners. Hidden in their cavatelli casserole, the peppers ($9.75 with garlic bread) were a happy textural contrast to the pasta.

Ten ounce steaks cost just $12.95 in the full dinner version. Ribs ($10.95 with cavatelli and garlic bread) fell off the bone and were covered in a sweet sauce. Pizza was cheese rich and its crust tasted unleavened, almost like crackers.

Pizza prices began at just $4.50. A five item children’s menu ranged in price from $3 - $4.

Bottom line - this is a time warp, reality theater café with serious bargains.