Inside the Sushi Speakeasy at The Adolphus Hotel

Finally made it to Sushi by Scratch after months of calendar Tetris. Picture this: The Adolphus Hotel. Seventeen-course omakase. I didn’t eat all day in preparation—a full-day fast for the gods of toro and truffle.

My man and I took the elevator up to the eighth floor, wandered past hotel rooms like we were doing something illegal, and found the unmarked door. We rang the bell. A woman answered—slicked-back hair, clipboard in hand, zero patience. Think FBI energy meets hospitality.

She asked a few dietary questions, confirmed our names, and led us into a dimly lit room with dining chairs lined up like an AA meeting. We all knew we’d end up here eventually.

We said a quick hi to our friends on the balcony, but our handler swiftly herded us back inside. She told us to sit. Told. Not asked. It was giving bougie detention, and I was fully committed to the bit.

Cocktails appeared, followed by two tiny sushi hors d’oeuvres. “They should be eaten in one bite,” she said firmly. Oh, she’s getting bossy again 😏🫦

We were then led into the main room—a moody space wrapped around a massive live-edge sushi bar. Two chefs stood behind it like sushi surgeons. We found our assigned seats, each marked with a chalked nameplate. My mouth started watering as I stared at the wooden board listing all seventeen courses—wagyu, uni, bone marrow—all the heavy hitters were there.

And boy, did they hit. The fish melted in my mouth—sauced to perfection, laid over warm rice that was so perfectly textured, it barely qualified as a carb. The entire menu was, in a word, divine. Easily the best nigiri I’ve had in Dallas—it tasted expensive. Five stars. No notes.

But don’t get too chatty—this isn’t a leisurely dinner. It’s a sushi drill. The chef speaks, everyone shuts up, he announces the bite, you hit it like a one-hitter, and before you’ve even processed it, the next piece is already being placed in front of you. It’s all very “yes, chef.”

No advice on ordering here—it’s omakase. The chef’s in charge, and you just nod politely. But when it came to drinks, I was feeling like a baller and added the $115 beverage pairing: mostly sake, a few mini cocktails… and randomly, a beer at the end.

I’m a drinker, but even I couldn’t keep up. The sushi came out fast, and the drinks didn’t stop. Any hope of pairing things properly collapsed by course three. I was drowning in sake I didn’t ask for—and didn’t even like.

Meanwhile, my man went with the wine pairing—same price, much better experience. He actually liked what he was drinking, though even he admitted he should’ve just ordered by the glass.

Between the two of us—$200 omakase each, $115 beverage pairing each—we walked out $800 lighter.

Between the setting at The Adolphus and nigiri that felt engineered for maximum emotional impact, the whole experience exceeded every expectation. Worth the hype. I’m already plotting my return.