Among the myriad fine dining grouped on the Cosmopolitan of Las Vegas’ third level, Blue Ribbon appears as something of a sleeper. Unlike the flashy, hostess-heavy Jaleo and STK, the uber-fancy Milos, or classically modern Scarpetta and Comme Ça, Blue Ribbon is in a darker corner and somewhat hidden behind a patterned screen wall. But perhaps its enigma adds to the mystique, since it apparently hasn’t been suffering from attention since it opened at the beginning of the year.

Unfortunately, a plumbing mishap forced its closure for a few weeks, so I held this post until its reopening this week.

A spin-off of the hot New York spot founded by brothers Bruce and David Bromberg, Blue Ribbon offers both more authenticity as well as innovation than the typical Strip Japanese spot.

There are three experiences here: a small sushi counter at the very front, a woody, sexy lounge with small two-tops, and a much larger sushi counter, tables and tatami rooms in rear, all filled with a funky jazz soundtrack to keep things energetic but sensual. The menu is similarly diverse.

Sushi and sashimi are offered in extensive varieties, divided into Atlantic and Pacific ocean sourcing (expect to see sourcing as a growing trend, coming out of the Japanese nuclear disaster—though Blue Ribbon were doing this much already). Popular fish are all hear, but you may also find Spanish Mackerel (Sawara), barracuda (Kamasu) and jellyfish (Kurage) for example. There are plenty of ingredient-driven maki rolls (no Philly roll or any of that nonsense), Osaka-style box sushi, and ten different vegetable rolls.

Rather than the typical series of platings, Oma Kase here is offered as a platter ($100 p.p.—there are also a $35 veggie sushi platter, a $140 two pound lobster sashimi platter and even a $200 “Blue Ribbon Special” platter, which I can only imagine must be life-changing. Well, it’d better be.)

Of course, not everything here is so pricey—small plates start well under $10, and this is where you’ll begin to see an appealing blend of Eastern and Western influences, such as beef marrow with shaved bonito and teriyaki or a salad of cranberries, pear, cucumber and mizuna with poppyseed dressing. There are two menus here—one sushi bar, one dining room, with different offerings. You’ll want to see both, and spend some time with them to discover specialties. Among the tempura is fried chicken with wasabi and honey; there’s also a full grill menu, another listing of wagyu beef offerings, extensive sunomono, and more under various listings (“Kitchen Specials,” “Sushi Bar Specials,” etc.)

Choosing almost randomly from too many intriguing offerings, I ordered a carafe of Yuuki no Basho sake (because it goes with almost everything—though the selective sake and wine listing goes as deep as an ’82 Bordeaux for $20k) and started with the tofu and seaweed starter with lemon, ginger and soy and the smoked pork belly kushi yaki with pickled onions and baby watercress. A nice study in contrasts, the tofu was light, creamy and refreshing, accented by the tart, chewy seaweed; the pork belly more-than-fork-tender, and dripping with woody, earthy delight.

From my seat at the front Sushi bar (where the chefs work in tandem in a way that bears comparison to both acrobatics and ballet), Oma Kase seemed the way to go. Wondering what you get for $100? Generous portions of no less than 13 different fishes. I had horse mackerel, grilled eel, cornet fish, sea trout, fatty tuna, amberjack, salmon, yellowtail, some ruby red tuna, striped bass, fluke, seared salmon, and a sea urchin roll with foie gras. Advised by the chef to eat them in that order (going from mildest to strongest), I admittedly enjoyed some more than others—particularly the horse mackerel, cornet, amberjack, yellowtail and rich salmon.

After the finish, they took away the display fish, a ribboned amberjack (I believe), flash fry it, and brought it back to eat like crunchy chips!

Though I wanted to go deeper into the menu, that was more than a meal already. I was advised not to miss dessert (which I often do), so I chose the most unusual offering, a ginger bread pudding that literally arrived as a shiny golden brick (more than enough to share), spicy, sweet, eggy and mouth-filling tender.

I took half of it back to my hotel room and finished it for breakfast. And I don’t regret a single bite.