Content Warning: What you’re about to read may change your mind about hibachi dining forever.

I love hibachi. And when I say that, I mean it. I’ve eaten over 250 hibachi meals. I used to host a hibachi fried rice eating contest at our local hibachi restaurant when high school would let out at 2pm. I clearly have a hibachi problem. But I thought I had exhausted the best hibachi meals the hibachi world had to offer. I firmly believed that nothing could possibly excite or surprise me at this point in my hibachi career.

I was wrong.

Mt. Fuji is by far the best hibachi meal I’ve ever encountered. It is a meal I’ll be thinking about for weeks to come

Let’s start from the beginning…

When you arrive at Mt. Fuji, you are greeted by large red Japanese arches. You then ascend a magical drive of twists and turns amid trees and wildlife. Finally, you reach the top of a mountain—aptly called Mt. Fuji.

From the summit, you look out over the surrounding landscape of New York, including an expressway and rolling yellowish hills. There’s valet parking. It’s non-negotiable.

Once inside, you are greeted with modernity. Everything is backlit with soft neon light and surrounded by wood. It’s as if the villain in an action movie got away with it, invested all his money in learning about interior design, and then decided to open a swanky hibachi joint.

After walking down the wood-lined hallway to the front desk, you’re given a buzzer and directed to the right, where you’ll find the bar and lounge. The design here emphasizes velvet and tranquility. The lounge area also offers an even better view of the expressway and rolling hills.

After ordering cocktails—classics with a hint of a Japanese twist—we were guided into the main dining room, which gave me onsen vibes, reminiscent of a Japanese bathhouse known for its beauty and elegance. The room was filled with sculpted wood, side-hibachi grills, and full-grill hibachi stations. I recommend the full grill for maximizing fun.

We placed our orders. I got the filet mignon and shrimp; my girlfriend ordered hibachi shrimp. We started with a sushi appetizer that was fresh and inventive.

Then Chef Modi appeared. He was whimsical yet precise. He opened with a classic spatula-and-fork routine, dancing on the grill. This transitioned into hot oil on the grill, setting up the flaming onion volcano. He perfected this well, lighting the onion on fire, and then he lit his hands on fire and showed the audience. He repeated this four times. We were all aghast. From there, Mr. Modi surprised us with a variation on the “egg roll” joke by making three eggs appear intact under a steel lid on the grill. He then let me fire shrimp tails into his hat, played a math mind game with me, and at one point scared me to death by pretending to throw a knife into a lemon right in front of me. I was on the edge of my seat and in stitches from laughter the entire time.

Throughout the meal, Mr. Modi demonstrated quick thinking and incredible timing. He would gauge the table’s mood and adjust his jokes or songs accordingly. I have never witnessed a hibachi chef who could think so quickly and come up with jokes on the spot. It was nothing short of an incredible feat of artistry.

An example of this was when someone at the table asked for extra butter on their steak. Someone else made the same request, and as a joke, I asked for more even though my steak was already plated: Modi: “Too late for that.”
Me: “It’s too late? Can you say sorry?”
(Mr. Modi looked at me, grinned wildly, and began to sing.)
Modi (in song): “It is tooo late to say sorry!”

This was just one moment of Mr. Modi’s theatrical genius. And if this entertainment isn’t enough to win you over, all the food was perfectly cooked and seasoned well.

There is nobody who can hold a candle—or a flame—to Mr. Modi. He is by far the best hibachi chef I have ever encountered. If I ever return to Mt. Fuji (and I suspect I will), I will ask for him by name—or refuse to return at all.