Hanashizuku in Singapore: The Cuppage Plaza Sushi Spot I’d Never Have Found Without a Local

Singapore · Sushi · A local pick off Orchard Road

I was in Singapore for work, not eating my way around the city, and I’d never have found Hanashizuku on my own. The reservation came from a coworker who’s lived in Singapore for ten years and eaten his way across most of Asia. He said this was the best sushi in the city, and a group of us followed him into a mall just off Orchard Road and up to the second floor of Cuppage Plaza — not a place a tourist would wander into for a sushi dinner.

Not sponsored. A coworker hosted dinner, so I don’t have the receipt — but he framed the bill as a lot less than I’d have guessed for what came out of the kitchen. We didn’t tell Hanashizuku we were coming.

The find: a mall, a stairwell, and a local who knew better

Cuppage Plaza is the kind of older mall you’d walk past a hundred times, the Japanese restaurants tucked away upstairs. If you wandered in cold you’d keep walking. With a local at the front of the group, you climb the stairs, push the door open, and the room is warm wood, calm lighting, and Japanese voices behind the counter. Authentic, not cute — the kind of room where the food is the point. Sake and Japanese beers on the table from the jump, no cocktails, no theater.

The starters that earn their place

Two small plates I wouldn’t normally write about, except both made me pay attention: the charred edamame came blistered in the pod with real smoke on them, not the steamed-and-salted version most places lean on; the spinach goma-ae was creamy, slightly sweet, and properly cool against the warm food. Neither is what you book Hanashizuku for, but both told me the kitchen sweats the small stuff.

The sashimi platter — the reason we were there

The sashimi platter came out on ice, five or six cuts laid out like a small painting — tuna, salmon, what I think was yellowtail belly, a thicker white fish, and scallop, on shiso leaves with little yellow petals. The fish was clean, cold, and tasted of the sea the way good sashimi should, not of the refrigerator. Generous cuts, fresh wasabi, ginger the right kind of sharp. This is the dish I’d point a friend to — not the most dramatic platter I’ve seen, but honest and balanced, the plate that tells you the rest of the menu is in good hands. My coworker called it the best sushi in Singapore; I wasn’t going to argue.

The rolls

A few rolls to pass around: a chunky maki with cucumber and a pink-red filling under bright dollops of spicy mayo; a tobiko-and-avocado roll with a cream-cheese-style dot tucked into each piece; a third with shredded greens inside and a thicker carpet of tobiko. What I noticed across all three was the rice — warm, seasoned with restraint, holding together without being mushy, the fish-to-rice ratio honest. None of these rolls were doing tricks; they were doing the boring, hard things well, which is exactly what I want from a sushi place I’m paying for.

The izakaya plates that snuck up on me

The sashimi and rolls are the headline, but I’d have skipped the rest if my coworker hadn’t waved them through. A platter of grilled sausages sliced thick with whole-grain mustard; grilled corn charred dark, sweet and smoky enough to eat without the butter most places need; and a generous tempura platter, the batter light and shattery instead of bready. Most sushi places treat the non-sushi side as an obligation; Hanashizuku treats it as seriously as the fish. You could come in for just the izakaya plates and walk out happy.

The bill

I’m usually firm about giving you a real number, because most writing dances around price and I think that’s unhelpful. This one I can’t — my coworker hosted, and when I asked he was offhand about it: not a lot for what we’d eaten. Coming from someone who’s lived here ten years and eats out plenty, that’s a number I trust more than my own guess. I’ll add a clean figure next time I’m here paying my own way, and I plan to be.

The verdict

No bronze bell, no torii hallway, no piece of theater — just clean, careful sushi and a local-vouched address I’d have walked past forever on my own. It’s not a temple-sushi experience I’ll dream about for the rest of the year, but it’s the place I’d book for a meal in Singapore, the one I’d send a coworker landing at Changi for a week of meetings. If you find yourself in Singapore with a free meal slot, climb the stairs at Cuppage Plaza and book a table.