When you step into Cloak & Petal’s speakeasy Shibuya Nights in San Diego’s Little Italy neighborhood, it’s as if you’ve been transported to a Tokyo speakeasy. The towering cherry blossom tree in the bar, the hand-painted wall murals and graffiti art, and the moody, Harajuku-inspired underground vibe all work together to create an immersive dining experience for guests, capturing what Thrillist described as a “see-and-be-seen” destination.
At the heart of the kitchen is chef Robert Cassidy, whose culinary journey has taken him from washing dishes at a sushi bar in college to helming the kitchen at one of San Diego’s most unique Japanese fusion restaurants.
“From my own experience when I first walked into here, you walk in the front doors, it’s a little dark, and then you’re just hit with this huge cherry blossom tree in the bar—it’s beautiful, and you don’t really see it from the street until you walk in,” Cassidy recalls. “When everyone walks in, they’re taking pictures of everything. Our art in the back, or by the bathroom, by the trees; it’s really beautiful in here.”
Keeping the menu up to par with the aesthetics of the artsy restaurant and its vibrant colors and theme is a challenge, Cassidy admits. It helps that it’s not a strictly traditional sushi spot. Case in point: there are speciality roles like “Face it, You’re Basic” has panko shrimp, avocado, krab, tempura crunchy flakes, spicy aioli, and sweet soy reduction; speciality sashimi like “Wagyu Mafia” with a wagyu strip, yuzu kosho, Irish white cheddar, chives, spiraled seasoned potatoes, and micro greens; and house rolls like the Philadelphia with salmon, cream cheese, and cucumber.
“What’s really popular in America right now are the rolls. Rolls are very easy to configure different sauces and salt and flavors onto them, and that’s what people are familiar with here,” Cassidy explains.
The extensive, innovative beverage menu also pushes the boundaries, with “Wake Me Up, F*ck Me Up” featuring Mr. Black Coffee liqueur, Starward Two-Fold Whiskey, and demerara sugar; “Oaxacan-Through-Eden” with mezcal, cucumber, celebrity apple syrup, lime, and Genepy herbal liqueur; and “Tea Ceremony” with chamomile-infused vodka, pineapple, honey, and lemon, which can be made into a large-format punch bowl cocktail to be shared.
“I think what separates us from other sushi restaurants is our caliber; we do everything in house, scratch sauces—you can buy a lot of stuff pre-made and pre-bottled,” he adds. “We try to give guests an experience of flavors that are familiar, but a little different. I think obviously the freshness of the fish is huge also … it’s familiar dishes, but with just a little edge to them, just to make you want to come back.”
Cassidy honed his skills in traditional Japanese sushi-making techniques while training under renowned sushi chef Paul Johnson at the now-closed Sushi on The Rock in La Jolla, California. “He kind of sculpted me—having the everyday nuances of what it takes and what you’re supposed to be doing,” Cassidy recalls. Johnson taught him “respect for the food, respect for the people you work with; communication is huge.”
From there, Cassidy’s culinary journey took him to San Diego’s Lumi, a Peruvian-Japanese restaurant owned by Michelin-starred chef Akira Back, where he was exposed to the vibrant flavors and global influences that have become a hallmark of his cooking style.
As much success as he has had so far, Cassidy’s career path was not a linear one. “Growing up, a chef was really never a thing that I focused on, or even thought I was going to do; 25 years ago I’d say in Asian countries, being a chef was kind of like a peasant form of working,” he says. “So I think the culinary scene really blew up with the Food Network, celebrity chefs, culinary schools charging this to get in because everybody wanted their kids to go to culinary school instead of being a lawyer. It was a very trendy, cool thing to do.”
“I feel like it’s mellowed out a little bit over the last maybe 10 years, but I do think that people are going into the food business a little more seriously as a form of profession … it’s looked at more as an honorable position working as a chef,” he continues. “When I first started, my mom said, ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ Because it’s long hours, and I didn’t really know what I was getting into, but I wouldn’t take it back. I love that I’m here and I love what I do every day. And I feel like if you love what you do more than half the time, then you’ve found the right place.”
Cesar Vallin first opened Cloak & Petal in 2018, and just a couple years ago dreamt of transforming the previously unused space in the back room behind the 7,500-square-foot main restaurant area into Shibuya Nights in 2022. Cassidy took the helm as executive chef the following year. “The San Diego food scene, definitely in the last 10 years, has really blossomed,” Cassidy says. “We kind of put our foot on this area with something a little different that you can go to. I think we’ve been very fortunate to be successful, especially in a heavily populated Italian food area.”
Since Cloak & Petal is one of the only sushi restaurants in Little Italy, it’s easy to stand out—but that doesn’t mean they sit back and rest on their laurels. Quarterly menu changes keep things fresh and interesting, plus smaller specials for holidays.
“I think when you go out to eat, if you’re going to spend money, you want to have a good experience, and you want to walk away from that experience saying, ‘that was worth it. I would want to come back there,’” Cassidy notes. “Also, we do run specials to try to incorporate to see if things work, if people like the dishes. And also, too, as a training method for the servers and the staff to actually have a visual and also taste.”
Part of Cassidy’s passion lies in building a supportive kitchen culture and nurturing the next generation of culinary talent. As a mentor to many young chefs, he emphasizes the importance of keeping your head down, learning as much as possible, and not being afraid to ask questions. “I tell them, if you stop doing this today, would you miss it? And if they say yeah, then that’s your answer,” he says.
Cassidy has built a team that operates like a well-oiled machine, with open communication and a shared sense of purpose who help each other out. “Not everyone’s going to be at 100 percent every day, including myself,” he explains. “If you’re able to have respect for the person next to you and lean on them when you need to, they’ll do it back for you.”
“For myself for the last two years I’ve been here, I’ve evolved and learned a lot and grown a lot as a person,” Cassidy adds.