It's a muggy evening in the Virginia Highlands, where the humidity feels like a wool coat over my shoulders. I walk up the stairs and into Mali, asking for a table for two, inside, please. Following the cordial host across the wood floors, past the warm wall of windows, to our table. I have a nice view of other dinner parties- a mix of a family with small children, a trendy mother and her teenage daughter, and an array of other tables relaxing over colorful plates of Thai food.
Trendy music plays in the background as I study the vast menu. My date orders Thai, I opt for sushi. The sushi menu has a few traditional rolls, but the majority of the rolls are clever combinations of traditional sushi flavors. Their sushi fare is not kin to the strange (and often absurd) medleys of wild flavors, frying, baking, and smothering in sauces. Instead, I found my dinner to be delightful and original. I may even declare it the best sushi I've had in Atlanta thus far.
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