The much-anticipated follow up to Teikoku

Can aggressively-marbled meat actually make you happy? This is the question I’d been pondering for more than a month by the time I arrived at Azie this past February. For after a series of almost inappropriately disappointing encounters with wan cuts of so-called Kobe beef, I had little faith left in whole cult of the Wagyu breed of cow.

But by the time I headed out to Media to visit, a buzz of sorts had developed, and I’d begun hearing of an almost miraculously tender preparation of the stuff right here on West State Street. So it was with a mild sense of trepidation—and the hope that springs eternal in the deepest corners of every restaurant critic’s black heart—that I ordered the Kobe beef hot rock ($18).

By the time I’d finished chewing my first bite, I felt as if I had just walked out of one of those old-fashioned, Sinclair Lewis-style tent revivals: My Kobe faith, which had been on the wane for so long, had, for the evening at least, been restored. Hallelujah!

It was nothing more than an elegantly-plated dish of whisper-thin slices of Wagyu from Idaho’s Snake River, a hot marble rock, and a ponzu-soy dipping sauce. But the meat’s marbling was impeccable, more akin to a particularly complex fractal pattern than the few veins of fat that usually run through a cut of mere mortal beef. And the sauce, when used sparingly, played the role of de facto seasoning with a grace I was not expecting. And, yes, when gently heated to rare, the meat actually did take on the buttery notes that this fabled breed is so famous for.

The best dishes at this highly anticipated newcomer worked for many of the same reasons: A reliance on top-notch ingredients and a willingness to allow them to sing their own tune. In other words, traditional Japanese cooking philosophy pervades the kitchen here, at least with the most notable dishes.

Tuna sashimi ($16) exhibited a similar sense of restraint. Its black- and white-sesame crust, while nothing terribly novel, highlighted why so many (even non-overtly Japanese inspired) restaurants have taken to this combination. The gentle smokiness of the seeds and the meaty richness of a decent cut of tuna are pretty much guaranteed to please. But Azie’s version, attractively draped over a brightly-flavored scallion salad and buttressed by the heat of kochujang (a Korean red pepper paste), achieved a level of complexity—and elegance—that was notable.

Crispy calamari salad ($11) took a page from the Morimoto book, which makes sense: Executive Chef Takao Iinuma spent a fair amount of time in that highly regarded Center City kitchen as Executive Chef, working alongside the Iron One himself. So the fact that Azie’s version of this ever-popular salad should so closely resemble Morimoto’s is a badge of honor. In fact, Chef Iinuma was there at the salad’s creation.

Here as with the tuna sashimi, the success of the preparation was predicated on the judicious use of a few well-considered ingredients, as opposed to the aggressive manipulation of a number of less-than-stellar ones. The squid was crispy and devoid of the overabundance of oil, and the dressing, piquant with onion and ginger, set off that crust impeccably.

Honey-mustard miso black cod ($20) seems to have found its inspiration in another famous chef’s kitchen, in this case Nobu Matsuhisa’s at his eponymous New York restaurant. And with just a touch less mustard, Azie’s version will earn its place in that rarified company.

There were, however, a few missteps, and many of them were the result of straying from the philosophy that buttressed the more successful items on the menu. Peking duck roll ($12), for example, was undermined by the perplexing addition of nori, which brought an oddly briny element to the proceedings. A side of wasabi mashed potatoes ($6) was pedestrian, and the sweet Azie fries ($6), Japanese yam tossed with butter and honey, while addictive, threatened to overwhelm whatever they were tasted alongside.

But on the whole, the kitchen here seems to have found its voice reasonably early in its evolution. The service, however, has not. Indeed, no matter how beautiful or glamorous a space is—and this one is undeniably one of the most attractive in the region—service this scattered will always undermine that glamour faster than almost anything else.

The waiter was fine, and was able to make recommendations and discuss menu items with a sense of confidence and knowledge. But the runners auctioned off nearly every dish, several times threatening to place the wrong dish in front of the wrong person.

Still, I expect all issues will be remedied: The team behind Azie has a track record as winning as any in the region, and if the past is any indication, those service kinks will be ironed out sooner rather than later. And the food is absolutely on the right track. Just a tweak here and reconsideration there should really make Azie a Main Line mainstay. I hope it becomes one: I fear I may now have an addiction to Kobe.

To which all I can say is, Finally.

Azie is located at 217 West State Street in Media, and can be reached by phone at (610) 566-4750, or visited online at www.azie-restaurant.com.