If you’d told me a decade or so ago that I’d someday be eating fatty tuna nigiri atop a downtown Fort Worth skyscraper, in a sushi restaurant as swank as anything on the coasts, I might have said you’ve had too much sake.
Fort Worth’s restaurant scene has, however, dramatically changed over the past several years — 2025, especially, as I point out again and again in my cover story about the city’s best new restaurants, published elsewhere in this issue. This year has been tantamount in bringing new flavors — and new ways of presenting them — to a city whose culinary scene was once dominated — or should I say doomed? — to burgers and barbecue.
But here I am, on top of the historic Sinclair building, downtown’s lights twinkling at my feet, being handed one amazing piece of nigiri, sushi, and sashimi after another from talented chef Alvin Chik, who leads the kitchen at Nikuya, a thrilling new rooftop sushi restaurant opened by the same hospitality group that owns the restaurant 16 floors below us, Wicked Butcher.
If you’re not tapped into the city’s culinary scene, you may not have even heard about it, the restaurant, opened by DRG Concepts, arrived with such little fanfare. You may not even know about it regardless of how much attention you pay to restaurant openings. There’s no outside — or inside, for that matter — signage. At this point, just a few days after opening early November, it’s an if-you-know-you-know type of thing.
Guests are led by a host through Wicked Butcher, then the hotel lobby, and are then escorted to the elevator. The host must turn a key and hit a button inside the elevator to grant you access to the rooftop level. Once you’ve arrived, your reservation is confirmed and you’re led to your seat, one of 16 barstools that surround a luxurious, L-shaped sushi bar, carved out of thick, cool-to-the-touch, midnight-black quartz.
“It’s like a speakeasy,” Chik says, his knife piercing through a slab of fresh King Salmon, which will soon be dissolving in our mouths. “It’ll be more like a conventional restaurant eventually, but we wanted to start off slow, get the staff acclimated to the menu and the space.”
Nikuya takes over the Sinclair’s rooftop bar area, initially used by the Wicked Butcher team for light snacks and sandwiches. Surrounded by 360-degree views of downtown, the restaurant itself is in an enclosed space, its walls and ceilings made of windows, like a greenhouse. Outside of the restaurant are tables and chairs designed primarily for drinks and lingering. Club music pulses in the background but unlike so many other Fort Worth restaurants these days, not annoyingly so. Servers are incredibly friendly.
The small, adventurous menu focuses on nigiri, sashimi, sushi, and handrolls — think of the unadorned quality of Hatsuyuki and Shinjuku Station, not the sauce-soaked creations of Piranha and Blue Sushi. Fresh fish is flown in from all corners of the globe, Chik says, and sushi rice is made in small batches, ensuring texture and warmth.
Nikuya’s dishes include tuna tartare with avocado, fresno chili, house ponzu, and crisp rice; Hokkaido scallop crudo with citrus, serrano, and watermelon radish; and salmon crudo dressed in yuzu leche de tigre with jalapeño and cucumber. The nigiri lineup features hon-maguro brushed with umami soy and finished with fresh wasabi, and A5 wagyu that’s warm, delicate, and lightly seasoned. The rolls continue the theme of refinement: the Butcher Hand Roll, made with seared beef filet, warm yolk sauce, and chive, and the Nikuya Cut Roll, a rich combination of seared A5, avocado, fried leek, and house nikuyá sauce.
Chik says the menu is designed as a progression, beginning with bright, clean crudos, then moving into more concentrated flavors through nigiri and sashimi, and ending with hand rolls or makimono — an intentionally paced arc that mirrors the approach of high-end omakase while remaining approachable for diners simply looking for a night out.
“If you want to come in and just spend a few dollars on some sushi, we’d love that,” he says. “If you want the full omakase experience, we can do that, too.”
Part of what makes Nikuya feel like such a leap forward for Fort Worth is Chik himself. With more than 15 years of experience in Japanese cuisine, he brings a level of discipline and refinement that’s rare not just for Fort Worth, but for Texas. Before landing here, he held key roles at Uchiko in Plano, Kampai in Jackson Hole, and several acclaimed San Francisco restaurants, including Akikos and Angler, and most notably Kusakabe, a Michelin-starred sushi bar known for its precise, quietly theatrical omakase service.
Those kitchens, he says, shaped his approach to whole-fish breakdown, rice and knife technique, ingredient integrity, and a leadership style built on calmness and confidence.
“If I get busy, I try not to let it show,” he says, laughing. “It’s hard to stay calm when you work at a high-energy restaurant, but it’s important to maintain a certain amount of discipline when you’re making such intricate food.”
The restaurant represents two converging storylines: downtown’s continuing dining revival and the city’s growing community of Asian restaurants. It joins newly opened Polanco and Buonissimo downtown (even more downtown eateries are on the way in ’26, including The Beverly) and adds to the growing wave of Asian restaurants reshaping Fort Worth’s culinary identity: Oisshi Sushi & Pan-Asian Cuisine, Ichiro Izakaya, and, my favorite restaurant of the year, Yoichi Omakase, among them. (Nikuya opened after the cutoff for best new restaurant consideration; it’ll be eligible in 2026).
“It feels like a good time to be in Fort Worth,” Chik says. “The city is growing, and I think people’s palates are expanding. People want to try something new, maybe something they haven’t had before. Good things are happening here.”
512 Main St., nikuyarooftop.com