Alison D.
Yelp
Let me begin by saying: I understand and respect that Amano is beloved, and Chef Alamilla has the awards, the NYT acclaim, and the fanbase to prove it. This review will not shake their empire in the slightest. But after my third visit--and probably my last--I have... thoughts.
We had a 5:30 reservation. We were not seated at 5:30. We were also not seated at 5:38, despite seeing empty tables... staring at us. Mocking us. But fine, I can wait. What I couldn't ignore was the smell. A bold, room-filling fragrance situation--palo santo perhaps? incense? the collective spirit of Burning Man?--floating through the space like it had paid rent. Call me old-fashioned, but when I go to a restaurant, I want to smell the food, not the cleansing ritual. (I am bold enough to also say that I think fragrance worn by patrons should be banned.)
Amano's website offers beautiful photography and chef storytelling, but no menus. At all. Odd for a place with this level of hype. I like to get excited about what I'm walking into, and their site gives you nothing. So I took a menu pic for future diners who prefer to preview rather than pray (noting that the menu does change).
Our server had strong "I do well in tips here" energy. Not rude, just very aware of his earning potential. We told him--clearly--that not everyone at the table can handle spice. He recommended the corn/rajas appetizer as "Tapatío-level" and assured us the fish tacos could be adjusted to remove heat. It turns out his version of Tapatío is... aspirational.
The corn/rajas? SPICY. Like, "did someone lose a bet in the kitchen?" spicy. The fish tacos arrived covered in hot sauce anyway, but they fixed it quickly with a sour-cream version--and honestly, those I actually enjoyed. Light, flavorful, balanced... proof they can get it right when the heat level is respected. Then the LA birria tacos--no spice symbol on the menu--came in hot. Literally. And greasy. A double plot twist. Everything is à la carte, so no rice, no beans, no gentle carb buffer--and honestly, it feels like a missed opportunity for both diner satisfaction and revenue. My husband ordered the chile colorado; he said the flavor was there and the spice was right, but the meat was fattier than expected.
One more thing about the space itself: the layout is... unusual. The restaurant is essentially in the round/oval/rectangle, which feels cool until you need to find the bathroom. If you're seated on the bathroom side, great--quick escape. If you're on the opposite side, you basically have to circumnavigate the entire restaurant like you're on an exploratory voyage. There is a narrow staff walkway cutting across the middle, but it doesn't appear to be for patrons--and it's not wide enough to feel like it could be. Just an odd design choice that adds to the overall "style over function" theme.
And then the bathrooms. There are four unisex bathrooms for a restaurant this busy, which either means a sociological experiment, a masterclass in logistics under strain, or design decisions made entirely on vibes. One stall I walked into right after a father and son left had urine on the floor and a toilet paper holder that had fully retired from its job. The whole thing felt more gas station than James Beard stage.
Amano is clearly doing many things right--or they wouldn't be as celebrated as they are. And I genuinely applaud that. But for me? Between the incense cloud, the surprise-spice menu, the à la carte austerity, and the bathroom roulette... I think I'm good. Less palo santo, more pico de gallo. Less bathroom chaos, more beans and rice. And pretty please--just put the menu online.