Last Updated on March 23, 2026
Experience transcendent dining made with care at Luna Omakase
5.0 out of 5.0 starsTucked away inside a Mexican nightclub, be transported and worship at the altar of Japanese fine dining.
Omakase can be a mixed bag. ‘Leave it up to the chef’ is not always the best idea, after all, the customer is always right in matters of taste. Not so at Luna Omakase, where each dish was so artfully balanced as to approach the sublime.
But we are getting ahead of ourselves, so some background. Luna was created by Leo Tanyag, who, as executive chef, formulated the philosophy behind the experience. And experience it is, not only is this omakase, it is also a highly intimate chef’s table experience, there is one curved bar in the low-lit wood panelled dining room where all guests eat facing the chefs.
Tanyag combines three Japanese styles to create a highly polished result. Edomae: the traditional method of sushi-making from the Edo period in Japan; Sosaku: a spirit of innovation; and Omotenashi: the culture of hospitality. It was this hospitality that we experienced as soon as we entered the building. It is located inside one of the many developments surrounding Liverpool Street Station, we were first whisked up to the 9th floor, where we enjoyed a Henriot champagne, clean and toasty with mandarin notes, on Los Mochis’ covered balcony bar.
While we sipped our champagne, we perused the wine and sake list, which totals 450 labels. We were recommended to go with the sake pairing for the meal at £105 per person. Then, we were led to the dining room itself.
Yes, Luna is located in a single room down a corridor attached to Los Mochis, a club, bar, and restaurant, complete with a DJ later in the evening. Luckily, none of that excitement can penetrate once you enter the cocoon of this omakase in the sky, surrounded by subtly illuminated, specially commissioned paintings by Mexican artist Oms Rocha. With a floor-to-ceiling window behind, where the foggy city skyline could be mistaken for Tokyo. The creation of the artwork was even documented in a specially commissioned documentary short.
Once we entered the room, we were introduced to the team of highly experienced staff, chefs, and the sommelier, and given lemongrass-scented hand towels because, of course, some of the food we would be eating was intended for us to take with our hands. The restaurant has multiple guiding principles, including the aforementioned edomae, sosaku and omotenashi. It is gluten and nut-free and finds ingenious solutions to replace these elements in the meal. When a seafood-free option is clearly out of the question for this intimate sushi experience, it is canny to include those with other intolerances at least.
The key words that we were told the food was guided by were ‘balance, contrast and harmony’. Certainly, it was balance that shone through in many of the dishes, not relying on one flavour or another to dominate a dish, but encouraging multiple flavours to bring it to an exquisite dimension. The deftness at which this was achieved, I feel, was the most impressive element of the experience.
Along with the omakase, edomae, sosaku, omotenashi, gluten and nut free, balance, contrast and harmony, the menu is also influenced by the phases of the moon. Hence the name of the restaurant, Luna, the artwork on the walls, the 12 seats, the 12 dishes and the 12-minute short documentary. Clearly, Tanyag is not afraid of a little bit of symbolism.
It was a waning gibbous when we visited, according to my almanack, which traditionally is seen as an emotional and sensitive time of the month. We were told that vibrant flavours like citrus, yuzu, and cucumber would be used in the menu to reflect this. I would be curious whether those ingredients are unique to the waning gibbous, as Japanese food without any citrus or cucumber would be a sad thing. I will simply have to go back and check when the moon starts to wax.
Our first sake was Masumi ‘origarami’ from a sake house founded in Nagano in 1662, with a light body, the process to make this is more similar to a champagne, although there is no double filtration. However, there is a second fermentation in bottle, with no sugar added before first fermentation.
Our first taste of food was of the house pickles, ginger and cucumber, which were to act as a palate cleanser, and thanks to the spirit of omotenashi, were refilled when I wasn’t looking. If I had realised sooner that they would be refilled, I wouldn’t have rationed myself to one bite in between each course, as the cucumber, especially, was expertly seasoned, a little chewy with the cast of a long bath in aged soy sauce.
We were then given a tour of the ingredients we would be enjoying throughout the meal, the seafood of which had been sourced that morning at Billingsgate market, after it had been imported from across the world. We were also introduced to the process of making sushi, here, made with Akitakomatchi brand rice, mixed while hot with aged red rice vinegar in a cedarwood box.
Our first course had travelled the furthest to meet us: Australian amberjack crudo: bright, fresh and buttery with ginger, shiso, wasabi and orange ponzu. The balance here between the orange ponzu and the amberjack was a clear mission statement of the confidence in which flavours would be presented.
Next was Luna’s signature dish, which is popular as an Instagram post, Spanish bluefin ‘otoro’ (fatty tuna) served in a tin inside a stone filled with liquid nitrogen. Above the tuna, which is mixed with a yuzu truffle soy, is a sustainable Italian Ars Italica Oscietra caviar. All of this is accompanied by the classic mother-of-pearl spoon, ready to spread the caviar across rice crackers and fresh wasabi served in a wicker basket.
This is indulgence in the extreme and highly delicious naturally, caviar plus toro plus truffle sounds like the sort of ingredients list that would come from a restaurant that allows you to pick the weight of gold leaf on your burger, but these ingredients here are employed with a slight of hand that does not overpower, it instead allows each ingredient to both shine individually but also highlight the qualities of the others. The fattiness of the otoro is cut by the vibrance of the yuzu, which is tempered by the minerality of the caviar.
Our second sake was a Toko ‘Fukuro-tsuru’ ultralux, from a house founded in 1597 in Yamagata, it is the 3rd oldest sake house in Japan. This was 25% abv, smooth and milky, with tropical fruit notes.
We then started our nigiri, which was made in front of us by the team of diligent and focused chefs. We were instructed to eat them without fingers, hence the hand towels, upside down, so our tongues touched the seafood first. Our first was a Danish king crab leg nigiri, which was cold and sweet, with the rice coming after perfectly balanced, sour and salty.
Next was our most local dish: a Cornwall Sea Trout flamed nigiri, an enormous torch was used to release the trout’s fat, making it smoky, topped with trout roe and yuzu pearls.
A third nigiri was also seared, this time a French sea bream nigiri with yuzu salt, it was seared with a block of binchtan Japanese oak charcoal, which is non-bitter and gets up to 500°C.
A subsequent sake was also from Toko: ‘Genshu dawanosato’, at 60% abv, it was more similar to a spirit, with an umami nose, and it was recommended to go with more complex dishes.
For instance, taco maki with soybean paper and jalapeno salsa Verde, this was a vegetarian dish; the salsa verde was almost like a green goddess dressing. This was one of a few courses influenced by Mexican food. We were handed the morsel directly with instructions to eat it immediately.
Our next sushi was a Yellowtail onigiri with flying fish roe, with a single sail of Umbrian black winter truffle, spring onions and jalapeno, adding a warm spice to the dish.
Another Mexican-inspired dish was a dehydrated sweet potato taquito filled with more Oscietra caviar and topped with gusano seasoning salt derived from the worm you used to get in the bottom of tequila bottles. The salt was earthy, salty, and the sweet potato shell was perfectly crisp.
A Hokkaido scallop came after, this was fresh and needless to say, cooked to perfection with tahini, dehydrated miso and syrupy sweet balsamic figs.
Our final sake was a Chiebijin from Oita, with vanilla notes, it uses less polished grains for more body. Nutty and sweeter, it was perfect for the fattier dishes to come.
This accompanied more toro, this time cold smoked and cut like jamon, served on a crescent moon plate. It was salty and meaty and, on that plate, could easily have been two expertly sliced squares of pork. Of course, in the mouth, the cool and saline texture of the tuna mixed with the smoke was inimitable.
A hand roll was then handed to us with freshwater eel encased in a freshly roasted crispy nori seaweed sheet and filled with asparagus and that waning gibbous cucumber and with gochujang on top instead of the traditionally gluten-ridden unagi sauce.
The first real meat was some proper A5 Wagyu in a sando. These Japanese sandwiches have recently taken the world by storm, popular as bullet train food back East, as well as in more elaborate interpretations with pricey ingredients, served at top restaurants and bakeries. Tapioca bread, instead of the traditional milk bread, was indistinguishable from its glutenous cousin. The sandwich was filled with Japanese mustard, barbecue sauce, a wasabi leaf, and, after all, seared beef. So tender, there really is nothing else like it.
More A5 Wagyu completed our savoury dishes. A nigiri with the wagyu cooked on hot salt, which, of course, was meaty and salty with shallot ponzu cutting through.
Desserts were next. For me, I would have been happy with more, as I have a second stomach for desserts. But for those without my unique biology, the food thus far, although varied, was in quantities that meant the promise of dessert did not require a groan and unclasp of one’s belt.
Blood orange and chamomile granita was first, a palate cleanser, like snow and shaved in front of you. Naturally, it was cooling and acidic, but also smooth and relaxing; the chamomile was doing its job.
After this, two petit fours: a chocolate bonbon and zingy pate de fruit.
Finally came a punchy, fresh wasabi ice cream on top of a towering miso caramel soufflé. This dish, which I think speaks for the experience and the philosophy of it overall. That being delicate and with an impossibly light touch, created with expertise and deft care as a masterclass in the handling and sourcing of ingredients. But most of all, a balance of flavours that highlights and uplifts each element more than usual. For instance, this soufflé was saltier than most, and because of it, the caramel and the wasabi in the ice cream were able to speak for themselves more on the tongue than they would have done otherwise.
Now, the elephant in the room is the price, at £230 per person including service. If you add on the £109 sake pairing, you could afford to fly to Japan and back instead. Of course, if you did that, you wouldn’t be in London to enjoy the transcendent food on offer right here at Luna.
Website: https://www.luna-omakase.com/
Book: Opentable
Luna Omakase
9th Floor, 100 Liverpool Street, London, EC2M 2AT
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