Masao is redefining fresh

9/3/2025

Masao is Des Moines’ greatest application yet of the miracle of overnight air freight. It is also dramatic evidence that technology shrunk the world more than anything else did. When I graduated from high school here in 1965, I had never seen an avocado, a mango nor cilantro. The only ethnic restaurants here were Italian, Mexican and Chinese. I had never even met a human who had eaten raw fish. Anyone who wanted to taste new foods needed to travel to them.

That all began to change after 1971 when Fred Smith determined to turn a proposal (that got him a failing grade at Yale) into a business that moved freight overnight all over the world. FedEx brought exotics to Iowa and everywhere else. Sushi began in Des Moines at Happy Sushi in Beaverdale far too early to be successful. Our first sushi joint had tatami rooms, bamboo doors and kimono dressed servers — ahead of its time by decades. Sushi only took off here when combined with teppanyaki. 

Nick Hanke is a child of the air freight revolution. His father, Ted, opened Waterfront Seafood Market Restaurant in West Des Moines in 1984, the year prophesized to change everything. It changed much. Waterfront brought the catch of the world to town fresh. Masao “Mike” Yamamoto brought rare skill to Des Moines when local doctors persuaded him to move his Miyabi 9 café from Boston to East Village. 

But sushi is a difficult business because fresh raw fish is extremely perishable, and restaurants can’t afford much waste. Sushi joints in town stuck to fish that sold at popular price points. Exotics were limited blackboard specials if they even existed. When Nick bought Masao’s place in East Village, he thought he could use his extraordinary contacts from growing up at Waterfront to expand the city’s palate. 

Masao exudes the excitement of discovery. The menu changes more frequently than any other in town, and there are surprises like — “In the next half hour, we should be getting in some urchins from Santa Barbara.” 

I visited the busy sea urchin docks of Fort Bragg, California, around the turn of the century to research a story. That was the only time in my life I had ever eaten their roe fresh from their bellies. Until now. Uni caught on here, but there is nothing like eating them fresh from the womb. 

In just a few visits to Masao, I have enjoyed such formerly forbidden “fruits” as gizzard shad, blue snapper, suzuki sea bass, abalone, Iranian caviar and smoked trout roe. Nick says the selection will always be seasonal. I tried delicious octopus from Spain, yellowtail from Japan, shrimp from Florida, and blue crab from Columbia. Unagi was bought smoked and served with a sauce made of crustacean and octopus reduction — less sweet than usual soy and sugar sauces. All Masao’s wasabi is freshly ground from wasabi root. 

Just in case all such things don’t distinguish Masao from all other sushi joints west of Chicago and east of California, Nick hired Phil Shires to run his kitchen. Shires is one of the few Des Moines chefs named a top-20 Midwestern chef by James Beard Awards. He had been semi-retired for eight years after a pair of surgeries. He has never looked happier. 

His kitchen used the bounty of Nick’s connections in a halibut dish, steamed in red snapper stock with parsnip puree, and in a scallop dish that complimented Iowa sweet corn succotash with rosé butter. He made fried green tomatoes and shishito peppers that both came from Japan, but many of his best cooked dishes were purely French: chicken pistachio paté, foie gras with mushrooms and salmon mousse. 

Shires says he is most proud of a scrambled eggs dish with lavender and caviar in crème fraiche. His most difficult dish was a Pavlova that takes four hours to make. He served it with raspberry ricotta, candied pistachios and fresh berries. It was barely better than his other decadent desserts. 

Bar service is limited — no gun, no tap, no ice. Bathrooms are quirky in a good way. Bottom line, Masao provides a dining experience unique to Iowa. ♦

Jim Duncan is a food writer who has been covering the central Iowa scene for more than five decades.