Pan Asia Sushi Chinese Fusion

Pan Asia (Credit: Jill Richards/azcentral.com)

Pan Asia Sushi Chinese Fusion is not a name that rolls trippingly off the tongue, nor does it accurately describe what's going on at this upscale Chinese-sushi restaurant, situated in a new shopping center at the base of South Mountain. Then again, maybe no one cares that “pan” means “all” and, therefore, implies that the menu will feature, or at least incorporate elements, of all the cuisines of Asia. Two cuisines are challenge enough for most kitchens, and except for a handful of allegedly Thai dishes, two cuisines are what you'll get at Pan Asia. I'm not complaining. Ambitious menus are so often disappointing.

As it is, Pan Asia offers two of them — the one menu featuring mostly Chinese dishes and another featuring 108 Japanese selections.
Chef-brothers Yama and David San preside over the five-seat sushi bar and the circular drinking bar attached to it, offering sashimi, nigiri sushi and a lengthy list of specialty rolls. I'm warning you now: The purists among you will cringe over the flower garnishes, the plates painted with strawberry and kiwi sauces, the rolls so fantastically elaborate they hardly seem like sushi at all. Me, I've arrived at something akin to suspension of disbelief. This is not traditional Japanese sushi; this is modern American sushi in all its goopy, Byzantine glory. If I come at it from that angle, I can appreciate it for what it is.

But nothing prepared me for the Fire Roll, its plate splashed with Bacardi 151 and set aflame before my eyes. I'm told Yama San formerly worked at Sapporo, which would explain his flair for the dramatic. In any case, this rich collage of sauteed garlic shrimp, mayo and California roll, awash in eel and kiwi sauces, is surprisingly good and very filling ($15). Plan to share it.

If you like heat, you'll love the Yama Roll, composed of black-pepper tuna, Cajun albacore and spicy tuna, sprinkled with sesame seeds, minced green onion and tobiko ($13). Like the Fire Roll, it's partially cooked, which keeps the neophytes happy.
Then again, if you're an aficionado, you might want to take off the training wheels and go for silky toro sashimi, which requires a dab of soy sauce, at most, to be perfection ($16).

If there's commonality among the dishes on the main menu, it's this: Almost everything is sweet and not remotely spicy, no matter what the asterisks suggest. Still, there is evidence of quality here — fresh vegetables and tender meat in particular.

Mongolian beef might be spicy to Olaf from Norway, but to those of us who eat salsa regularly, this stuff is ridiculously tame. Good, mind you, but tame ($10.75). Ditto for tempura chicken served with singularly unspicy “spicy plum sauce.” By the way, the batter isn't tempura either ($8.75). In fact, the dish feels Chinese.

Except for that flaming sushi thing, nothing at Pan Asia will blow your mind. Nevertheless, it's a solid little restaurant for the neighborhood it serves. Who am I to pan it?