[I have decided to eschew most media dinner requests that come my way. They are just too ethically troubling for a food editor and regular columnist. So what to do? The answer: Send an intern! This is Ryan's loquacious take on the new menu at Yakuza. Enjoy!- PAC]

I am not a food man; but I know what good food is. My main gig is music journalism, and my snooty disregard to the arbitrary inhalation of any old thing has resulted in my dropping 45 pounds since the beginning of this year. So it would seem odd, then, that I be singled out to wax culinary expertise for a ravishing Japanese restaurant in Northeast Portland, where I am to be drowned in all manner of succulent dishes that I would remain, at most, apathetic toward. But here I am! A blank canvass absorbs the most ink, right? Onward!

The unassuming, yet artsy-sheen intersection of NE Killingsworth and 30th seems a disarming locale to house a posh izakaya (a Japanese gastro pub, designated traditionally as an after hours drinking and eating haunt, with food and drink portioned to be shared by a large table), but Yakuza's industrial facade tempers your initial reservations. Before you enter, you'll note the eco-roof, teeming with blood grass and black mambo grass just before you're socked by a dimly lit dining area, flanked by a modest bar, dark red hues adorning the doors and flowering cherry murals. A back patio dining area features outdoor heating, a Japanese garden and a hot tub. It's an instant sign of the pampering to take shape in Yakuza's colorful menu and service staff.

Yakuza's insistence on a "no-rules" M.O. takes on something of a "who cares?" quotient as soon as you receive your first starter dish. Unfortunately for me, the eight-course coma onslaught I was about to endure began with a pork bone consomme soup, spruced up with enoki mushrooms and a crispy poached egg. While the bouquet nearly implored me to reconsider my vegetarian allegiance, I was summoned by a higher calling to resist. But it wasn't over yet; as a trusty indicator of the ikayaza's flavor segue way, the Japanese cucumber & avocado kyuri salad arrived like a Vegan beacon.

Garnished with toasted sesame seeds and togorashi, the kyuri's potent paring of crisp greens and spice was a fitting re-start to the Yakuza experience. This salad starter was accompanied by a red and gold beet carpaccio, fitted with avocado, chevre, walnuts and paper-thin slices of blood orange. The shredded filo-wrapped sea scallop tempura, also a starter dish (the starters were a main focus of this particular encounter, as the resident sushi chef was M.I.A.), brought a pointed sense of presentation, with the filo spiraling northward like an edible Troll doll, with nori and a creamy spicy sauce bedding. The chef/owner even managed to appease my veggies-and-fish only grievances with an off-the-menu salad of baked spaghetti squash, baby shiso, croutons, feta, pistachios and a honey soy vinaigrette dressing. Zang!

While it was tough to ignore the promising sushi options from the menu (the minced big eye tuna tartar spicy roll sounds like it could be my new what next...), the signature dishes employed the sort of chef's-whimsy ambivalence that aids in creating a unique dine-out adventure. The seared scallop ceviche, replete with grapefruit, ginger, ponzu and pink peppercorns burst with a citrus zeal, and notable fellow diners were treated to the grilled Sonoma Valley duck breast with sweet and sour raisins and yakitori sauce.

The umbrella scope of Yakuza isn't really evident. Sure, they serve primarily Japanese food, and more notably sushi; but for every Far East option, there emerges decidedly chic Western manipulations as well. A Durham ranch kobe beef burger with cypress grove chevre and fried shoelace potatoes? Why not? Soda pop-braised pork ribs with caramel sauce and salted peanuts? Good God, you may as well! And lest we spend hours chipping in to the cocktail options, let's begin and end with the unpretentious sake selection. Unless you also want to include the exotic martini bonanza, which includes a wasabi martini, a beet martini and a "really spicy" martini made with jalapeno-infused vodka.

Dessert brought a filo-wrapped fried banana with powdered sugar and caramel sauce, after which I promptly threw in the towel. For someone who eats grilled cheese sandwiches and Top Ramen almost exclusively, this was all too much. And were I to embellish on the service staff, the environ, the mix of oddly modern indie rock pluming from the speakers, I'd have to give a huge blanket kudos!