A career in food and travel writing comes with great perks, but it means my calendar is packed with assigned restaurants, media event coverage, and stories that take me around the country. It also means neglecting some of the places I love most. Hana Japanese Eatery is on that list.
I’ve been so many times over the years that I’ve lost count. I’ve taken visitors from out of town, I’ve met friends for double dates, and I’ve gathered the girls for a night out. And when my parents moved to Arizona, Hana became their favorite Japanese restaurant, too. In fact, for one of my very first restaurant reviews, I chose to spotlight Hana in the 2010 issue of AZ Wine Lifestyle magazine. At the time, Lori Hashimoto’s little restaurant on Seventh Avenue had already made an impression on me. Sixteen years later, it’s still special.
When Hana opened in 2007, it was a family affair, with Lori and partner Lynn Becker working alongside her brother Rick “Koji” Hashimoto behind the sushi counter and their mother Kinue and stepfather Kazuto “Kaz” Kishino in the kitchen. It was at Hana where I first had Japanese staples like takoyaki, hot, tender balls of batter filled with octopus; agedashi tofu, delicate cubes of silken tofu lightly fried until crisp and served in a warm dashi broth; and hamachi kama, grilled yellowtail collar.
Hashimoto didn’t stop at tradition. She put her own stamp on the menu with playful creations that became signatures, like ankimo sliders stacking silky monkfish liver with lemon, a fried quail egg, green onion, togarashi (a chili spice blend) and nori (seaweed), and her uni shooter combined creamy sea urchin and egg yolk with tobiko (fish roe), tangy ponzu, green onion and Sriracha.
Today, Hashimoto runs the kitchen as chef and co-owner alongside Becker, who built the beverage program from scratch after Hana traded its longtime BYOB status for a liquor license. Alongside excellent sake and shochu-based cocktails, Becker has curated an incredible sake collection and is always happy to share her extensive knowledge. On my last visit, a standout was Nanbu Bijin Daiginjo from Ninohe in Japan, a sake made with 40 percent polished rice and water from the region’s Basenkyo Gorge, paired with scallop nanbanzuke (with pickled vegetables).
And Hana’s staying power hasn’t gone unnoticed. Over the years, Hashimoto and the restaurant have collected “Best Sushi” and “Best Japanese Restaurant” wins from nearly every local outlet, earned a place on Travel + Leisure’s list of the country’s top 20 Japanese restaurants, and, in 2022, Hashimoto was named a James Beard Award semifinalist for Best Chef: Southwest.
I had a chance to talk with Hashimoto about the philosophy behind her cooking, how Hana has evolved over nearly two decades, and what it means to build a restaurant that becomes part of people’s lives.
What do you wish people understood about Japanese food?
Japanese food has always been about “less is better” and direct flavors. If something is sweet, it’s clearly sweet; if it’s sour, it’s sour; if it’s savory or umami, you’ll taste that in things like katsuobushi [smoked skipjack]. For a time, I’d look at Thai food and other Southeast Asian cuisines and how those flavors blend into these complex profiles. But then I realized, with Japanese food, it’s about the purest rendition of that particular taste. It’s those combinations like katsuobushi with kabocha [Japanese pumpkin] that show how they’re really supposed to interact.
Your ankimo sliders and uni shooters have become signatures.
Ankimo is very traditional Japanese, but things from a different culture can be challenging, and I just wanted people to try it. So, we put it on a lemon slice and added a sunny-side-up quail egg, like a little eggs Benedict. I’m proud of that one because it was one of the dishes that people really ended up liking. The same thing with the shooter. It was a way to get people to try things they might not normally order—to present uni in a way that made it feel less intimidating.
Tell me about Lynn’s sake program.
Lynn has a genuine streak of hospitality. She loves imparting knowledge and watching people experience things. She didn’t start as a sake person—she was more beer and brown liquor—but once she got into it, she developed a real nose for it, and it’s something that she’s really passionate about. Even to the point where I say, ‘maybe you should go and learn how to brew sake in Japan and then come back here and do it.’
How do you see the evolution of dining trends since you opened Hana?
When we opened, the cool thing was Anthony Bourdain-style eating like hole-in-the-wall spots. Now it has to be Instagrammable, or people won’t go, and that just floors me. I’ll see things and say to myself, that doesn’t make sense technique-wise, culinary-wise, or even scientifically. There can be a lot of smoke and mirrors in this business.
Are you proud of what you’ve built?
I am. I’m a product of my mom, Kaz, my brother, Lynn, my nephews, and all the people who’ve worked with me. I’ve grown up with this restaurant. As hard as it’s been, it’s a huge feeling to make something and watch people say, ‘Wow, Lori, that’s really good.’ It’s like if you’re not good at golf, and you hit a good shot, and suddenly you like the game again. I’ll make a dish and think, “Wow, that was really good. Maybe I am okay at this.” As stressful as it’s been, it’s been fun.
What do you most want to preserve about Hana’s legacy?
It still feels strange to think there is a legacy. But if there is one, I want it to be what remains with people after Hana is gone. That sense of peace when someone who remembers your name greets you and talks with you—whether it’s about the food or just about life. I think Hana’s legacy is more than just the restaurant. I want Hana remembered as a place where people had good experiences, not just good meals.
written by: christina barrueta
photographed by: luke irvin
𖡡 5524 north 7th avenue, phoenix, az 85013
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