You might drive past the exterior three times before realizing you’ve found the place. No velvet rope. No valet stand. No Instagram-ready neon sign announcing its presence. Just a nondescript one-story building on Montauk Highway in Water Mill, directly across from the hamlet’s iconic 1644 windmill, housing what might be the most beloved sushi restaurant in the Hamptons.

Suki Zuki doesn’t look like much because it doesn’t have to. Since opening in 2000, this unassuming Japanese restaurant has built a following so devoted that Friday and Saturday nights in summer resemble a cult meeting. People gather outside, put their names on a list, and wait. Sometimes thirty minutes. Sometimes an hour. Nobody leaves. In a region where restaurants compete to out-design each other with imported marble and commissioned art, Suki Zuki’s power move was radical simplicity: serve exceptional food in a space that looks like it could be anywhere, then watch the Hamptons come to you.

The Owners Behind the Counter

Toyo Kamatani and Feng Yunsheng built Suki Zuki on a simple premise that most Hamptons restaurateurs overlook: locals need to eat too. While other establishments calibrate every detail for summer visitors with expense accounts, this team stayed open year-round, kept prices reasonable, and remembered regulars’ names. Their strategy worked so well that by 2012, Kamatani and Feng expanded to East Hampton, opening Zokkon at 47 Montauk Highway in the space previously occupied by Bamboo and later Shiki.

In late 2024, Kamatani announced plans to take over the lease at the former Sushi 1 location in Westhampton Beach, potentially bringing the Suki Zuki formula to a third location. Sushi 1, which had operated on Mill Road for 29 years, closed its doors in December 2024. If Kamatani’s expansion proceeds as planned, he hopes to open the new location by early 2025, thereby extending the Suki Zuki empire westward along the South Fork.

Nevertheless, the original Water Mill location remains the flagship, the one insiders still call home. When longtime customers ask on review sites about changes in quality, they’re really asking: where’s Toyo? This question reveals how personal the place has become. In a landscape of absentee owners and celebrity chef brands, Suki Zuki remains identifiably the work of specific people who still care whether the fish is fresh and whether you feel welcome.

The Tuna Sandwich That Launched a Thousand Returns

Ask anyone familiar with Suki Zuki what to order, and you’ll hear the same two dishes repeated with an almost religious certainty: the spicy tuna sandwich and the chicken teriyaki salad. These aren’t just popular items. In fact, they’re the reason people drive from Southampton, Bridgehampton, and East Hampton to a tiny restaurant in Water Mill.

Consider the spicy tuna sandwich first—a bit of culinary sleight of hand. It’s not actually a sandwich at all, but rather a triangular-cut sushi roll shaped like a tea sandwich, filled with spicy tuna, tobiko roe, scallion, and tempura flakes, finished with a light splash of citrus. While the shape is playful, almost whimsical, the execution is serious. According to TripAdvisor reviewers, Suki Zuki originated this now-iconic dish. In a region where every restaurant claims to have invented something, this innovation has earned the rare distinction of being impossible to fake: nobody else makes it quite like this.

Meanwhile, the chicken teriyaki salad enjoys equally fervent devotion. It’s a finely chopped composition of romaine lettuce, crispy wonton strips, bean sprouts, and bite-sized chunks of chicken, all dressed in a tangy, slightly sweet dressing that regulars describe as “addictive.” According to The Infatuation, people order the chicken teriyaki salad intending to share it, then find themselves ordering a second one for the table. Some customers reportedly order extra portions to take home for poolside eating the next day.

Consequently, these two dishes have achieved something rare in the Hamptons: genuine democratic appeal. Hedge fund managers at the sushi bar order them. Contractors grabbing takeout order them. Families celebrating a teenager’s birthday order them. In a region that often segments itself by wealth and access, the spicy tuna sandwich and chicken teriyaki salad function as a culinary common ground.

Inside the Simple Space

Walk through the front door and you’ll understand immediately why Suki Zuki works. Tables are tight. Noise levels climb as the evening progresses. None of this matters because your attention immediately goes to the long wooden counter where the real show unfolds.

Three chefs work behind that counter. Two handle sushi and sashimi orders, their knives moving with the unconscious precision that comes from years of repetition. A third works the robata, a Japanese open-fire grill where beef, chicken, and fish transform under direct flame. You can watch your dinner being made from start to finish. No mystery. No pretense. Just skilled hands preparing good food.

What sets Suki Zuki apart from typical sushi restaurants is the robata grill. While most Hamptons Japanese spots focus exclusively on raw fish, grilled offerings here have developed their own following. Steak saikoro, cube-cut beef with oroshi sauce, emerges from the flames with a char that balances smoke and tenderness. Additionally, the grilled mahi mahi and black miso cod have their own devoted constituencies. For diners who want sushi but brought along someone who prefers their fish cooked, the robata provides diplomatic cover.

Furthermore, the sake selection rounds out the experience. While not as extensive as specialist sake bars, Suki Zuki offers enough variety to satisfy curious palates. Bottles are displayed attractively, inviting exploration. Meanwhile, the bartender makes a notably good super-dry vodka martini for those who prefer Western spirits. Kirin and Sapporo beers flow from the taps, cold and crisp, perfect for cutting through the richness of the robata’s grilled proteins.

A One-Block Town with a 400-Year History

Water Mill itself deserves attention. This hamlet sits between Southampton and Bridgehampton on a stretch of Montauk Highway that feels like a pause between destinations. Most visitors pass through without stopping, unaware they’re crossing one of Long Island’s oldest settled communities.

In 1644, England granted Edward Howell 40 acres of land near the new settlement of Southampton to build a mill for grinding grain. Howell, the wealthiest citizen of the colony and its magistrate, negotiated with the town for laborers and funding to support construction. Millstones were hewn from boulders found in the glacial moraine north of the site. By that same year, the mill was grinding wheat, oats, and corn for the surrounding farms.

Over time, the mill became such a landmark that people began referring to other settlements as “east or west of the watermill.” By the 1800s, locals simply called it Water Mills, later simplified to Water Mill. Today, the hamlet boasts the only settlement on the South Fork with both a functioning watermill and windmill—both listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

This history matters because it explains Water Mill’s character. Unlike Southampton and East Hampton, which grew into fashionable resort destinations, Water Mill retained its working agricultural identity longer. Mega-mansions arrived eventually, but they arrived to a place that had already defined itself. As a result, when Suki Zuki opened on the hamlet’s one-block commercial strip in 2000, it fit seamlessly into a community that valued function over flash.

The Parrish Next Door

Water Mill’s cultural profile shifted dramatically in 2012 when the Parrish Art Museum relocated from Southampton Village to a stunning new Herzog de Meuron-designed building on Montauk Highway. This fourteen-acre campus, with its clean horizontal lines echoing the barn studios of East End artists, transformed Water Mill into a cultural destination.

Inside, the Parrish houses more than 3,000 works spanning the nineteenth century to the present, including major holdings by William Merritt Chase, Fairfield Porter, Jackson Pollock, Lee Krasner, and Willem de Kooning. Its exhibitions draw visitors from New York City and beyond. And naturally, many of those visitors, having absorbed an afternoon of American art, find themselves hungry.

Suki Zuki sits less than half a mile from the Parrish, an adjacency that’s accidental but fortuitous. After contemplating abstract expressionism, the warm simplicity of a chicken teriyaki salad feels like comfort. After the museum’s pristine galleries, Suki Zuki’s unpretentious bustle feels like life. TripAdvisor reviews frequently mention this combination: “Had lunch here after a visit to the Parrish Museum. Chicken Teriyaki salad is so good!”

The Wait as Ritual

Summer evenings at Suki Zuki follow a predictable choreography. Around six o’clock, when the restaurant opens, the first wave arrives early hoping to beat the rush. By seven, the small space is full and a waiting list has formed. By eight, the wait can stretch past half an hour.

Notably, the restaurant doesn’t take reservations for small parties. This policy, which would be commercial suicide elsewhere, has become part of Suki Zuki’s identity. In effect, the wait democratizes access. You can’t buy your way to the front. You can’t leverage connections to skip the line. Instead, you stand outside with everyone else, watching the sunset through the trees, scrolling through your phone, making conversation with strangers who are also waiting.

Admittedly, some visitors find this frustrating. Review sites contain complaints about ignored phone calls, long waits, and overwhelmed staff. These criticisms are valid. However, they miss something essential: Suki Zuki’s popularity creates its own problems. Theoretically, the restaurant could expand, hire more staff, or take reservations to smooth operations. That it hasn’t suggests a deliberate choice to stay small, stay personal, and accept the chaos that results.

The Menu Beyond the Hits

While the spicy tuna sandwich and chicken teriyaki salad dominate conversations, Suki Zuki’s full menu rewards exploration. Sushi and sashimi are consistently fresh, served in portions that reflect traditional Japanese sizing rather than the oversized American standard. Longtime reviewers note that the pieces are small by design, allowing for a more varied tasting without overwhelming fullness.

Additionally, the appetizer section holds discoveries. Pork gyoza arrive with a warm dipping sauce. Steamed shrimp and scallop dumplings come dressed in yuzu ponzu with a drizzle of wasabi sauce. Even the miso soup, often an afterthought at Japanese restaurants, earns specific praise here. Similarly, the hot fish soup, thick with seafood, becomes a winter favorite for regulars.

Beyond appetizers, the robata grill produces chicken teriyaki, beef skewers, and seafood prepared over open flame. Duck with scallion emerges from the grill with its fat rendered crisp while the meat stays tender. Jalapeno curry serves as a dipping sauce for various proteins. Overall, the menu’s range reflects a kitchen comfortable with both raw preparation and fire.

For those seeking more composed creations, specialty rolls deliver. The JB Roll combines salmon and cream cheese. The Volcano Roll brings heat. The namesake Suki Zuki Roll features the kitchen’s signature style. Finally, for dessert, the tempura-fried banana with vanilla ice cream and chocolate sauce provides a sweet finish that nods to Japanese technique while embracing American indulgence.

Year-Round in a Seasonal World

Typically, the Hamptons operates on seasonal economics. Restaurants open for Memorial Day, pack their dining rooms through Labor Day, then often close or drastically reduce hours through winter. Staff migrate elsewhere. Menus shrink. Essentially, the energy that defines summer dissolves into off-season quiet.

Suki Zuki, however, stays open. Not every day, but enough to maintain a year-round presence. This commitment to continuity builds the local loyalty that sustains the restaurant through leaner months and creates the word-of-mouth that packs the dining room in summer. When a restaurant remembers you from February, you remember them in July.

Moreover, the year-round operation reflects Water Mill’s changing demographics. In recent years, the hamlet has seen an influx of new full-time residents, many of whom arrived during the pandemic and stayed. These residents need restaurants that don’t disappear after Labor Day. Accordingly, Suki Zuki’s presence anchors the hamlet’s small commercial strip through seasons when other businesses shutter.

What the Critics Miss

Recent reviews have been mixed. Some longtime customers report declining quality, oversalted dishes, and service lapses. These complaints deserve acknowledgment. After all, no restaurant, however beloved, stays perfect forever. Staff turns over. Ownership attention fluctuates. Inevitably, the demands of popularity can strain any kitchen.

Yet the complaints themselves reveal something important: people care enough to be disappointed. Indifference is the true death of a restaurant. When customers write long reviews detailing exactly how the black cod was overcharred or the tuna sandwich had too many scallions, they’re expressing the frustration of betrayed expectations. They wanted Suki Zuki to be what it has always been. That desire, even when expressed as criticism, is a form of loyalty.

How the restaurant responds to these challenges will determine its next chapter. Kamatani’s expansion plans suggest confidence in the brand’s future. Nevertheless, the question remains whether growth can coexist with the intimacy that made the original special. Many restaurant empires have stumbled on exactly this dilemma.

Goop Approved, Windmill Adjacent

Suki Zuki has achieved the peculiar honor of appearing in Gwyneth Paltrow’s Goop guides while remaining genuinely unpretentious. As the lifestyle brand’s Hamptons recommendations described it simply: “This just might be the best sushi in the Hamptons.” The Infatuation, Indagare, and other trusted food sources have offered similar endorsements.

What these recommendations share is an emphasis on the restaurant’s absence of pretension. In a region where restaurants compete on design, celebrity sightings, and social media appeal, Suki Zuki wins by ignoring all of it. Decor is basic. Tables are tight. Noise is loud. None of it matters because the food is good and the prices are fair.

Interestingly, the location across from the historic Water Mill windmill adds an accidental poetry. That windmill, built in 1800 and moved to its current site, represents an earlier era’s agricultural infrastructure. Suki Zuki, serving fresh fish in a simple room, represents a kind of dining infrastructure. Both fulfill basic needs without excessive ornamentation. Both have survived because they work.

How to Actually Eat Here

Arrive early. Six o’clock when they open gives you the best chance of immediate seating. If you’re coming later, especially on Friday or Saturday, prepare to wait. Put your name on the list and take a walk. Water Mill’s single block rewards slow exploration, and the mill pond across Montauk Highway offers evening light that photographers covet.

First, order the spicy tuna sandwich and the chicken teriyaki salad. You’ve heard this advice because it’s true. After you’ve paid tribute to the classics, explore freely. Robata items surprise people who expected only sushi. The sake selection rewards curiosity. The tempura banana makes a better dessert than you’d expect.

Alternatively, consider takeout. Suki Zuki does brisk business with customers who want the food without the wait. Platters of sushi and sashimi travel well to rental house decks and beach blankets. The chicken teriyaki salad holds up surprisingly well for next-day poolside eating. This isn’t defeat. It’s strategy.

Finally, manage expectations about service. During peak hours, the restaurant is often understaffed relative to demand. Phones go unanswered during rush periods. Staff can seem overwhelmed. This is the trade-off for keeping the operation small and personal. If you need attentive table service and immediate response, this might not be your place. If you want good fish in a real neighborhood joint, patience pays.

The Enduring Appeal

Twenty-five years after opening, Suki Zuki remains the answer to a question the Hamptons keeps asking: where do locals actually eat? Not where celebrities are photographed. Not where reservations require connections. Not where the design budget exceeded the food budget. Where do people who live here, year-round, go when they want good Japanese food at reasonable prices in a place that remembers them?

That answer sits on Montauk Highway in Water Mill, directly across from a windmill that has stood for over two centuries. The exterior is unremarkable. The interior is small. The wait can be long. The service can be imperfect. None of it stops the faithful from returning, putting their names on the list, and waiting for a table at the sushi bar where three chefs work behind a long wooden counter, making food the way they’ve made it since 2000.

Ultimately, that consistency is the point. The Hamptons churns through restaurants the way it churns through trends. Hot spots open and close in three seasons. Concepts flame out. Celebrity investments fail. Through all of it, Suki Zuki stays. Small. Simple. Crowded. Imperfect. Real.

Suki Zuki is located at 688 Montauk Highway in Water Mill, New York 11976. For information, call (631) 726-4600. Hours: Monday, Tuesday, Thursday through Saturday 5:30pm to 9:30pm; Sunday 5:30pm to 9:30pm; closed Wednesday. No reservations for small parties. Takeout available.

Discover more hidden gems in “The Other Hamptons: Where the Real East End Eats, Drinks, and Belongs.”

Related Articles: Sen Restaurant Sag Harbor | The Lobster Roll LUNCH Amagansett | Bostwick’s Chowder House