Sushi rolls at Mr. Tuna. From left, the spicy crunchy shrimp maki, Maine crab maki and spicy hamachi maki. Brianna Soukup/Portland Press Herald

Editor’s Note: This is critic Andrew Ross’s final restaurant review for the paper. To hear more about changes in the food section, please read this.

When I interviewed Jordan Rubin two years ago, he asked me to keep a secret. Call it terrible timing on my part, but days after we chatted about the previous version of Mr. Tuna, Rubin messaged me. On the QT, he let me know about his plans to decamp from his sushi restaurant’s transitional-feeling space at the Public Market…the same spot I had just recommended in a well-earned, four-star review.

It was frustrating for me, but I also knew that, even though he was days away from announcing the move publicly, Jordan and partner (in both senses) Marisa Rubin weren’t going anywhere soon. So I talked it over with my editor and kept quiet. After all, if this intermediate evolution of Mr. Tuna — bridging the business’ origins as a food truck to a more permanent, self-contained restaurant — was as terrific as it already was, how could I not let everyone know about it?

In hindsight, I was wise to remain silent. An endless series of construction snafus ended up delaying the new Middle Street location by 15 months, including an entire summer season. But the Rubins kept chugging along, serving temaki (conical hand rolls), nigiri and maki; tweaking recipes; and staying afloat as their vibrant, pastel-shaded 30-seater took shape and made its debut this May.

I’m not alone when I say: It was worth the wait.

“Everything is happening the way we were always hoping it would,” Jordan Rubin said. “This summer was crazy busy, and people don’t even talk about the old location; it’s like it never existed. Now, people are coming in and are super excited to try the new menu and see the new space.”

The Mrs. Tuna cocktail at Mr. Tuna. Brianna Soukup/Portland Press Herald

Perhaps the best way to experience the dining room is with a cocktail — something neither previous incarnation of Mr. Tuna offered. Thanks to a partnership with beverage consultant Pat McDonald (who also helped design the drink menu at the Rubins’ sister business, Bar Futo), you’ll find a half-dozen or so delightful, superbly balanced options (all $14). Among them, the Mrs. Tuna, a fine-spun, margarita-like concoction made from agave, young tequila and prickly pear nectar; and a sweet-savory riff on a Brazilian caipirinha that interleaves flavors of Maine-sourced Agricole-style rum with sugar; fresh lime juice; and umami-rich nikiri, a delicate mirin-and-soy solution.

You could also go for sake, wine or beer from the expansive beverage menu. Regardless, you’ll want to check in with the gracious, laid-back servers, then grab a bar-height seat at the blond-wood sushi counter. Look upward to admire the suspended bar, then down, where your shoes will be bathed in a cheery pink neon glow. Or maybe slide along a polished wood banquette and take up residence at one of the alternating violet-and-orange tabletops whose contrasting colors are echoed in brushstroke wallpaper that recalls Andy Warhol’s Shadow paintings.

“Mr. Tuna naturally has a masculine energy, and we wanted to balance that with brightness and a feminine pop,” Marisa Rubin said. “It’s a fun, poppy feel and fun, poppy food. We wanted the design to match that.”

Jonathan Palumbo places an order with Sarah Champagne, a server at Mr. Tuna. Brianna Soukup/Portland Press Herald

Holy cow, did they get it right. It makes no difference what the weather is outside; you’ll never suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder at Mr. Tuna.

And if the visuals aren’t enough to buoy your mood, try the food. If you’re wondering how different the current menu differs from those of its predecessors, take a gander at the seaweed salad ($10). In previous years, Mr. Tuna added a few shreds of radicchio to sea vegetables like hijiki and slick wakame: just enough to lend the salad a little color. But these days, according to Jordan Rubin, “We bumped it up. I really like the crunch and the bitterness of it. Just like some of the other dishes, it was time, so we reworked them, and we’ve used this as an opportunity to make small changes.” His instinct is spot-on; tweaking the proportion of bitter greens transforms Mr. Tuna’s seaweed salad into one of the menu’s highlights. And it’s just an appetizer.

Jordan Rubin kick-started his career at James Beard Award-winning, sashimi-only restaurant, Uni in Boston. You can tell. Mr. Tuna’s menu places straightforward raw fish front and center, beginning with “naked” (unadorned) varieties and progressing to “all dressed up” sashimi.

The “Scallop All Dressed Up” at Mr. Tuna. Behind it is the nikiri caipirinha. Brianna Soukup/Portland Press Herald

My guests and I were bowled over by gussied-up scallop sashimi ($19), a pairing of sweet, translucent Maine scallops drizzled with house-made matsutake mushroom ponzu sauce, slivers of pickled shiitakes, crisp puffed rice, and Jordan Rubin’s favorite herb, shiso.

And as much as I, too, love shiso, I think it’s possible to go a little overboard with it, as happened in the gochujang-fueled spicy hamachi maki rolls ($12). The aromatic minty-piney flavor of shiso kept pulling focus from the delicate white fish. But don’t get me wrong — this dish and the slightly dilute-tasting Maine crab maki ($21) would still count as the best menu items at perhaps all but one sushi restaurant in Maine.

When Jordan Rubin is in a groove, as he is frequently, he has no peers anywhere in the state. Take his Peruvian ceviche-inspired torched halibut “deluxe” maki ($23). Expertly, he strings together tart pickled red onions, aji Amarillo pepper sauce, avocado and zingy, acid-cured shishito peppers, then garnishes with cilantro — all the while somehow holding space for the delicate flavor of torch-kissed raw halibut. Astounding.

The torched halibut maki at Mr. Tuna. Brianna Soukup/Portland Press Herald

Over on the special toro (tuna belly) menu, you’ll find another must-order: toro takuan maki ($15). Traditionally offered as a late-stage course in an omakase (chef’s menu) sushi meal, this roll makes use of scraps left behind when fatty tuna is carved up for big-ticket dishes. Jordan Rubin’s version is essentially a tartare of toro morsels that he folds together with quick-pickled daikon radish, finely diced scallion and just a hint (i.e. the perfect amount) of shiso. At $15 for eight pieces of extraordinary maki, this might be the sushi bargain of the year.

Toro takuan has been one of Jordan Rubin’s go-to dishes for years. So too, his spicy crunchy shrimp maki ($10), a sextet of sesame-sprinkled rolls featuring a coral-hued paste of Canadian shrimp blitzed with Sriracha mayonnaise, pickled ginger and hot chili oil. So far, so good. But the star of this dish is the phenomenal, home-brewed eel sauce, a thickened soy-and-mirin tare that plays up Mr. Tuna’s signature flavor pairing: sweet and savory.

The vanilla miso caramel toasty at Mr. Tuna. It’s a wow! Brianna Soukup/Portland Press Herald

Not only does it pop up across the sushi, sashimi and appetizer menus, that combo also makes an appearance on Mr. Tuna’s new dessert menu, in the form of a vanilla miso caramel toasty ($10). Here, Jordan Rubin repurposes buns used for (another sibling restaurant) Crispy Gai’s chicken sandwiches and deploys them as a golden exterior crust for a scoop of homemade vanilla bean ice cream and a drizzle of miso caramel. When a toasty order comes in, the kitchen fires up a waffle-iron-esque press (inspired by a Disneyworld dessert served at Epcot Center) and seals the frozen custard in a toasted, buttery brioche exterior.

It’s a sensational dessert, especially from someone who told me, “This is my first foray into pastry. But we always wanted to do desserts, and we finally had the means here and in our commissary kitchen (in the former Solo Cucina space in South Portland). So why not? But I tell you what, we posted a pic of that on Instagram, and we’ve never gotten a response like that for anything on the Mr. Tuna page. So many likes. So many shares.”

I guess that makes it official: The secret is out.

Diners eat lunch at Mr. Tuna the day after Christmas. Brianna Soukup/Portland Press Herald

RATING: ****1/2

WHERE: 83 Middle St., Portland, 207-536-0509, mrtunamaine.com

SERVING: 11 a.m.-9 p.m. daily

PRICE RANGE: Salads and appetizers: $6-$13, Maki and bowls: $10-$48

NOISE LEVEL: A hip boutique

VEGETARIAN: Some dishes

RESERVATIONS: Yes

BAR: Beer, wine and cocktails

WHEELCHAIR ACCESS: Yes

BOTTOM LINE: If you’ve been in Portland for a few years, you might think you know Mr. Tuna. Perhaps from its early days as a food cart, where chef/co-owner Jordan Rubin wowed locals with conical temaki served from the mobile kitchen he parked around Greater Portland. Or perhaps from its stint anchoring the (ever-puzzling) Public Market, where co-owner Marisa Rubin boxed up nigiri and temaki through the early years of the pandemic. But this is a new Mr. Tuna. An independent, stand-alone Mr. Tuna situated at the entrance to Middle Street’s prosperous miniature “Restaurant Row.” Jordan Rubin’s menu continues to showcase some of his greatest hits. And in nearly every case, they are indeed great: gingery, Sriracha-fired spicy crunchy shrimp maki, lush and oniony toro takuan packed with offcuts of incredible fatty tuna. Most maki can also be ordered as conical hand-rolls. Don’t call it a throwback. Look further and you’ll discover that, from its neon and pastel, blond wood and Scandinavian pop-inspired digs, this evolution of Mr. Tuna is a fully realized restaurant. The Rubins serve nuanced cocktails like the margarita-like Mrs. Tuna, alongside sake, wine, beer and nonalcoholic drinks. And for the first time ever: dessert. Jordan Rubin’s toasties — in particular, homemade vanilla ice cream and miso caramel encased in a buttery, press-grilled brioche exterior — are at once freakishly tasty and unique. This Mr. Tuna is unquestionably worth getting to know.

Ratings follow this scale and take into consideration food, atmosphere, service, value and type of restaurant (a casual bistro will be judged as a casual bistro, an expensive upscale restaurant as such):

* Poor
** Fair
*** Good
**** Excellent
***** Extraordinary

The Maine Sunday Telegram visits each restaurant once; if the first meal was unsatisfactory, the reviewer returns for a second. The reviewer makes every attempt to dine anonymously and never accepts free food or drink.

Andrew Ross has written about food and dining in New York and the United Kingdom. He and his work have been featured on Martha Stewart Living Radio and in The New York Times. He is the recipient of eight recent Critic’s Awards from the Maine Press Association.

Contact him at: andrewross.maine@gmail.com
Twitter: @AndrewRossME