Sushi restaurants aren't actually that common, at least for someone like me who did not grow up eating sashimi.
The first time I tried it, I was maybe twenty, sitting at a sushi bar I couldn't really afford, watching a skilled chef slice through a block of tuna like it owed him nothing. One piece. No soy sauce. He just nodded at me to eat.
And wow, it was absolute freshness. It's not just that, I remember the soft shell crab, the white fish, the tempura. Talking about it now just makes me remember that I've been craving since last week.
I've been chasing that feeling ever since. Not the luxury of it. The quiet of it. The way good raw fish asks for almost nothing, and gives you everything anyway.
Over the past few years I've eaten my way through more Japanese restaurants in this city than I can neatly count. Some grand. Some tucked into old malls. Below are five that stayed with me, each for a different reason. This isn't a ranking. It's five honest stops, and why each one matters.
1. The Sushi Bar (Ngee Ann City) — A Casual Sushi Bar that Respects the Fresh Fish
Nearest MRT: Orchard MRT (about 5–7 minutes)
Price: S$25–50 per person
I come here when I want fresh sashimi without the ceremony.
Tucked inside Ngee Ann City, The Sushi Bar has never pretended to be a formal Edomae sushi temple. It does thick-cut sashimi and generous bowls, and it does them without fuss. The slices are noticeably chunky, the kind you actually have to chew and think about, not the thin slices that vanish before you've tasted them.
The Kaisen Chirashi Don is the one I keep returning to. For somewhere in the low-to-mid thirties, you get a spread of premium sashimi over vinegared rice, and it's honestly one of the most sensible ways to taste several cuts in a single sitting. If you've been wanting an entry point into good salmon sashimi and fatty tuna without a three-figure bill, this is where I'd send you.
I'll be honest about the queue. At peak lunch, it gets long, and prices have crept up from what they used to be. But I've never left feeling short-changed. Come a little before noon, and you'll skip most of the wait.
A quiet word: order the chirashi first, before the rolls so you can appreciate the natural flavour more. It's the clearest picture of what the kitchen is working with that day, showcasing fresh seafood air flown daily from Toyosu Market.
2. Nanbantei (Far East Plaza) — Old-school Japanese Food Over Charcoal
Nearest MRT: Orchard MRT (about 7–10 minutes)
Price: S$35–70 per person
This one isn't strictly about sashimi, and I'm keeping it here on purpose.
Nanbantei has been grilling since 1983, which in Singapore restaurant years is close to eternity. It's a yakitori izakaya, all charcoal smoke and small skewers, and it belongs on any honest list of traditional Japanese cuisine in this city because it reminds you that raw seafood is only one part of the story. Sometimes the soul of Japanese food is a chicken wing done properly over hot coals.
The chicken wings are the thing everyone talks about, and rightly so. There's the tsukune, the beef skewers, the lamb chops, each carrying that smoky aroma that clings to your clothes on the way home. I never mind it. It smells like a good evening in a place alive with vibrant izakaya culture in Singapore.
Sit at the counter if you can. Watch the skewers turn, watch the fat catch the flame. The portions are small and the room gets loud at dinner, but there's a warmth here that newer places keep trying to manufacture and never quite land.
Something worth doing: ask for counter seating when you book early, and don't rush. This is a place to sit, drink slowly, and let the meal unfold one skewer at a time.
3. Sushi Katori (Tanjong Pagar) — Knife Work Shaped by Tsukiji
Nearest MRT: Tanjong Pagar MRT (about 5 minutes)
Price: S$150–320++ per person
Sushi Katori is where the fish stopped being food and started being a conversation.
Chef Ryuta Katori spent eight years training at Japan's old Tsukiji Market, and today he brings in seasonal seafood from Toyosu Market. That lineage matters. You can taste the years of practice in the way the fish is aged, the temperature of the vinegared rice, the restraint of it all. This is proper Edomae sushi technique and it's done with traditional condiments, and among the best Japanese restaurants I've sat at, it's one of the most quietly assured.
The negitoro with uni stayed with me for days. So did the seared tuna cheek, smoky at the edges, soft underneath. Each piece of nigiri arrives with a sense that nothing is accidental. The skilled chefs talk to you, but never over the food. The food is the point.
It's expensive, and I won't pretend otherwise. Seasonal specialties like shinko often need to be pre-ordered, so a call ahead helps. But if you're marking something, an anniversary, a hard year survived, this is a counter that meets the occasion without shouting about it. It's the true quality of sashimi that you're looking for and it's worth it.
If you go: mention any seasonal ingredient or signature dish you're hoping for when you book early. The freshest catches here move with the calendar, not your convenience.
4. Sushi Yujo (Tanjong Pagar) — Modern Japanese Sashimi, Done with Feeling
Nearest MRT: Tanjong Pagar MRT (about 5–7 minutes)
Price: S$48–348 per person
Some counters honour tradition. This one bends it, gently.
Inside the Amara Hotel, Sushi Yujo takes premium sashimi sourced from seasonal seafood and lets modern technique in. Aburi searing, wagyu pairings, a chawanmushi that arrives warm and steadying. It's an omakase menu for people who love the classics but don't need them to stay frozen in time. The plating is beautiful without turning cold, which is a harder balance than it sounds.
The uni is a highlight, as is the aburi sushi, where a quick flame coaxes out a richness the raw slice keeps hidden. If you're a purist, a few of the truffle-and-wagyu touches might feel like they crowd the more delicate fish. I get that. But on my visits, the kitchen knew exactly when to stop.
What I appreciate most is the range. There's a lunch omakase set that gives you much of the experience for a fraction of the dinner price. That's a genuinely kind thing to offer, and it's how I'd suggest a first visit.
Worth knowing: go at lunch before you commit to dinner. Not too early for the opening hours and not too late as well. You'll get the measure of the place without the full outlay, and decide from there.
5. KOMA Singapore (Marina Bay Sands) — Theatre, and the Fresh Japanese Cuisine
Nearest MRT: Bayfront MRT (about 2–3 minutes)
Price: S$120–250+ per person
The Standing Sushi Bar has closed already, but KOMA is here.
I walked in half-expecting the room to outshine the food. It didn't.
KOMA is dramatic, no arguing with that. A Japanese bridge, soaring ceilings, a fifteen-seat sushi bar set into one of the most striking interiors in the city. It leans into spectacle, blending sushi, sashimi and robata grilling into something closer to an evening out than a quiet meal. And yet, underneath all the design, the seafood holds its own.
The otoro nigiri is the piece I think about. Rich, cool, almost dissolving. The bluefin tuna and the premium assorted sashimi platters are generous, and the wagyu is there if you want the whole indulgent arc of it. The cocktails, too, are better than they need to be.
Two honest notes. Weekend reservations are genuinely hard to land, and when the room fills, service can feel a touch rushed. So I'd avoid peak Saturday night if you want the counter to yourself. Ask for a seat at the sushi bar rather than a table, and you'll get the close-up view of the knife work that makes the price feel less abstract.
My suggestion: book early for the bar seat, go a little earlier in the evening, and let the skilled chefs do the talking with their hands.
Where the Best Sashimi in Singapore Actually Begins
Before the list, one small thing.
Sashimi is the hardest kind of honesty. There's no sauce to hide behind, no wok fire to cover a mistake. It's fish, a knife, and someone who knows what they're doing.
So when I talk about fresh sashimi, I'm not talking about the prettiest plate. I'm talking about the piece that makes you go quiet for a second. That's the whole thing, really.
Let me tell you where I found it.
The Best Japanese Restaurants Can Offer More
Sashimi is the entry point. .
Looking back at the five places I've written about here, what strikes me is how different each one feels once you're actually sitting inside it. The fish matters, yes. But so does the counter you're sitting at, the person standing behind it, and what they've chosen to do with forty years of practice or a cutting-edge sourcing connection.
At The Sushi Bar, the offer is democratic, good japanese food without the gatekeeping. At Nanbantei, it's atmosphere and age, a reminder that charcoal and skewers have their own kind of honesty. Sushi Katori gives you a chef's biography with every piece of nigiri. Sushi Yujo offers the freedom to let tradition bend a little without breaking. And KOMA wraps the whole experience inside a room that understands occasion.
Aside from this? Maybe you can check One Fullerton's Shoukawa. It also serves premium ingredients and quality sashimi.
Anyway, I've come to realise that what connects them isn't the price or the prestige. It's that each one has a point of view. The best japanese restaurants in Singapore don't just serve fresh fish. They make a case for why a meal matters. The sashimi is the argument. Everything around it is the context.
That distinction is worth holding onto when you're deciding where to go next.
What I've Learned About Finding the Freshest Catches
There's no single best sashimi singapore. There's the counter that suits the day you're having.
When I want honest fish without the ceremony, I go to The Sushi Bar for affordable salmon sashimi and a kaisen chirashi don that never disappoints. When I want smoke and old warmth, Nanbantei. When I want to sit quietly and be humbled by someone's decades of practice, Sushi Katori. When I want tradition with a modern hand, Sushi Yujo. And when I want the whole evening to feel like an occasion, KOMA.
None of them are perfect. The good ones rarely are. Katori will test your wallet. KOMA gets busy. The Sushi Bar makes you queue. But each one gave me a piece of fish that made me stop talking mid-sentence, and that's the only measure I really trust.
So pick the one that fits your week. Sit at the counter if you can. Watch the knife work move, eat the first piece plain before you reach for the soy sauce and wasabi, and give yourself a second to notice.
That pause is where the good stuff lives. I hope one of these gives it to you too. And when it does, come tell me which piece made you go quiet.
