Angel G.
Google
This hibachi was giving diet hibachi. Our flame barely scraped 12–15 inches high, while other tables were out here with infernos three times taller. If you’re gonna do hibachi, give us the show — not a candlelight dinner. The kids looked semi bored, and honestly, so was I.
I ordered shrimp and scallops. The scallops? Sad. No sear, no crust, just pale little marshmallows looking blobs. Flavor was fine, but where were the sauces? No yum yum, no garlic teriyaki, not even a sad soy sauce packet. At my local spot, they practically drown you in options. Here, we were raw‑dogging hibachi with zero sauce support.
Service was like a disappearing act. Our waiter ghosted us after the initial order, and we had to chase him down for refills. When most of the table ordered water, he chuckled like we were auditioning for a comedy set. Bro, just bring the drinks.
And don’t get me started on the birthday “celebration.” Other tables got tambourines and a full “Happy Birthday” chorus. My daughter? A half‑hearted “Happy Birthday” tossed in during the onion volcano fire. That’s it. No hype or birthday vibes.
Between the weak fire show, sauce famine, and birthday flop, this place is a one‑and‑done. If you want hibachi with actual energy, look elsewhere unless you luck up and get the better chef.