Cherrywine Sushi & Burmese Cuisine

While American Pizza Manufacturing solves the vacation rental dinner problem and Girard Gourmet rotates soups by the season, Cherrywine differentiates through a specific partnership structure: the sushi chef runs his counter autonomously while his wife oversees the Burmese side. This isn't fusion — the menus don't cross-pollinate. You're choosing between two distinct operations that happen to share a dining room on the third floor above Girard.

The tea leaf salad demonstrates why this separation matters. Rather than approximating Burmese flavors with generic Asian pantry ingredients, the kitchen ferments its own tea leaves and sources specific chili varieties that define the dish's balance. The result tastes markedly different from the sweeter, less complex versions served at most fusion spots. The vegetarian khow suey follows similar logic — the coconut broth's depth comes from technique, not shortcuts.

The sushi counter operates with equal independence. Regulars order from both sides without expectation that the cuisines will blend. This matters because it preserves what makes each kitchen function: the sushi chef isn't diluting his approach to accommodate Burmese flavors, and the Burmese kitchen isn't simplifying for a sushi audience.

Practical notes: the restaurant sits on the third floor, accessible only through a small elevator inside the gift shop below. Strollers require folding. Parking follows typical village patterns — metered street spots or the garage on Herschel. The ocean-view tables fill first; reservations recommended for sunset timing. The vegetable tempura and samosa soup anchor the vegetarian menu, which runs deeper than most sushi restaurants attempt.