Shiki, one of Rochester's best Japanese restaurants, is hardly a secret. Everyone I know has been telling me about it in love-struck tones for the past couple of years. Friends, people on the street, and the young woman who cuts my hair have all told me that I must go try Shigeru Tanaka's sushi. The place doesn't just have a following, it has a cult of true believers - and I'm now one of them. But it's not because of the sushi. Or at least, not exclusively because of the sushi.

Shiki is small, even intimate. The dining room is spare and uncluttered: comfortable, warm, and well lit, there is nothing here to distract you from chef Tanaka's beautifully presented traditional Japanese fare. Tanaka's cuisine reaches beyond the familiar sushi and teppanyaki to embrace a whole range of dishes unfamiliar to American palates, except in the most diluted and bastardized forms.

Take ramen, for instance. All of us remember the 10 cent packages of cardboard noodles that we ate in college when the money for anything better ran out. (Incidentally, the inventor of these noodles, Momofuku Ando, just recently died at the age of 96 in Osaka, Japan.) Tanaka's ramen ($8.75) is a whole different dish - it almost deserves another name. Yes, the noodles have the familiar squiggle to them, and yes there is broth, but that's where the similarity ends. These ramen noodles, along with a slice of pink-rimmed fishcake, and thinly sliced roasted pork, luxuriate in a light broth enriched with shiitake mushrooms, scallions, and a wide strip of nori (dried seaweed). The combination is arrestingly hearty-looking by comparison to more stylized Japanese dishes, but it is entirely satisfying and incredibly flavorful, in part because of the abundant savory ingredients that go into it.

For those willing to venture away from Shiki's gorgeously crafted sushi, Shigeru Tanaka has all sorts of surprises in store, chief among them a broad range of Japanese appetizers that reach well beyond negimaki and tempura. The age-dofu ($4.25), for instance, is a staple of Japanese restaurants everywhere (although the preparation and presentation differ a bit from place to place). Here, cubes of tofu receive the very lightest coating of cornstarch and are then flash fried, creating a translucent and just slightly crisp coating that contrasts well with the silky-smooth texture of the tofu within. Served in a dark bowl with a rich-smelling but surprisingly light dashi broth, and topped with a dusting of fish roe and shredded nori, the snowy white cubes were almost too pretty to eat.

Even calamari (fried ika, $6) receives an almost sculptural treatment at Tanaka's hands: perfectly symmetrical, rounded rings of squid were presented piping hot alongside a shallow dish of vivid green jalapeno mayonnaise. The nasu den ($5.50), eggplant served with a sweet miso sauce, was more humble in presentation (a study in brown - plate, sauce, and eggplant included), but a real star in terms of taste and texture. Through a process that includes both deep-frying and then broiling, thick disks of eggplant are rendered custardy smooth and smoky-sweet within their own skin, which makes a perfect "dish" for each slice. These are served with a salty, deeply flavored miso sauce that cuts through the potential oiliness of deep-fried eggplant.

If you're still interested in pursuing the non-sushi side of the menu, the ramen mentioned above is a good winter warmer, guaranteed to get you through even the coldest day. But the Japanese themselves eat thin, long soba noodles around the new year in order to ensure a long and healthy life. Made with buckwheat flour, soba are light grey - not the most immediately appealing color for food. They are served in a very strong-smelling broth along with both fish cake and a generous quantity of konbu (dried kelp). Despite the intense fishy aroma, the broth itself is quite light tasting, adding just the right amount of salt and savor to the earthy flavor of the noodles. The noodles themselves are quite filling: a single serving was enough for two people to share and still have a bit left over to take home ($8).

And then there is the sushi. Chef Tanaka received his culinary training, including intensive training in sushi preparation, in his native Japan. His mastery of the art is evident in every perfect piece of nigiri and sashimi that he makes. While there are certainly California-type rolls on his menu (and very good ones at that: his spicy tuna roll ($4.50) was among the better ones I've had), the specialty of the house is laser-cut, jewel-like pieces of the freshest seafood that you have likely ever tasted. A typical seven- or nine-piece sushi offering ($13.50-$15.50) includes a tekka roll (ruby-colored tuna wrapped in rice and jet-black nori), and an assortment of nigiri including yellowtail, salmon, smoked eel, shrimp, mackerel, and fluke along with some less common offerings.

All of the fish at Shiki is wonderful, but two varieties were particularly noteworthy. The kampachi, snowy white and striated (think caterpillar here) has the most wonderful texture, buttery and rich with a citrus zip. The Spanish mackerel, equally white but with an arresting black rectangle of skin on one edge, is transcendent and may well be my new favorite fish, although I'm completely at a loss in trying to describe it.

If you're an old hand at sushi, or one of Shiki's true believers, there's nothing on this menu that is likely to be a problem for you. If you are, like me, something of a novice, you will be hard pressed to find a better place to learn to love sushi. Order a glass of chilled sake, put yourself in chef Tanaka's more-than-capable hands, and prepare to be amazed.

Shiki

1054 S Clinton Ave

271-2090, shikirestaurant.com

Lunch: Mon-Fri 11:30 a.m.-2:30 p.m.; Dinner: Mon-Sat 5-10 p.m.