Brothers Kazuto and Goro Obara both own restaurants. Kazuto's Kalihi spot is a bare-bones insider's sushi haven, while Goro's Kaimuki eatery is a more stylish room serving a neighborhood crowd looking for good dinners. What they share is a down-to-earth demeanor.

YOHEI

Kokea Center, 1111 Dillingham Blvd. at Kokea Street

Hours: 11 a.m.-1:45 p.m., 5-9:30 p.m. Mondays-Saturdays

Price: Omakase sushi about $55 per person

Recommended: Omakase sushi

If Kazuto Obara asks you, as you sit down at his sushi bar, "Anything?" be sure to answer "Yes." That's his invitation to omakase, chef's choice dining.

The minute you accept, he might quickly slice and serve you two pieces of chutoro, that medium-fatty tuna that seems to dissolve on the tongue.

Located on Dillingham Boulevard in a strip mall near the DMV, with gray industrial carpeting, that familiar white Styrofoamish ceiling and nondescript chairs and tables, Yohei is nothing to look at. Yet people in the know consistently cite it as their destination for sushi. Why?

One reason is Obara's fish selection — compared to that of any other Honolulu restaurant serving sushi, with the exception of Sushi Sasabune, it is impressive.

On a recent night, the omakase parade included tai, hirame (halibut), shima aji (yellowjack), iwashi (sardine) and isaki (chicken grunt — yes, chicken grunt). Obara has the fresh goods shipped to him two to three times a week direct from Japan.

Each type of fish was adorned in a different way — some quite simple, like a single stone in a plain setting, others like multicolored Elizabethan brooches.

Shima aji arrived topped with just-shredded daikon and finely chopped green onion, and Obara gently said, "Don't need shoyu." Hirame was topped with a tangle of almost-black kombu threads and curlicue, charcoal slices of broiled, crisp hirame skin. The construction looked like its own little ecosystem, something that might harbor a salamander, and is a vinegary, textured bite.

Ika, cut into white noodlelike strands, is mixed with dark lines of kombu and piled on a morsel of white rice — it is a beautiful minimalist study in black and white.

Obara, his head shaved close and wrapped with a white headband, has a kind, wise bespectacled face. No matter how many orders were thrown at him, he answers his audience's questions to the best of his limited-English ability.

Even if you're eating omakase, he will take requests, even asking you what you feel like having next.

And that is what people who know their sushi — regulars such as Rokkaku owner Kazuhiro Sotomatsu — like about Yohei. It is a friendly place ("flexible," Sotomatsu puts it) — the antithesis of a sushi nazi stronghold. Even a "no shoyu," sounds like an amiable suggestion, not a command.

At one point, Obara asked what I wanted. "Something with shiso," I said. I got a mini napoleon — layers of rice, ume and shredded shiso, topped by crunchy yamaimo (mountain yam) slices. The slather of ume wasn't a puckerfest — alchemist Obara knows just how much shiso it takes to defuse the tartness, balancing what individually are strong flavors.

If I have to quibble, it's that the pieces of fish on the nigiri sushi were oversized (the rice was expertly shaped for perfect single bites), probably a nod to local preference. And the presentation isn't as clean and precise as at Sasabune or even Imanas Tei.

Technically, Sasabune has the best sushi in town, but based on the opinions of a couple of people who know a lot more about fish than me, there's something to be said for acquiescing to the customer. Sometimes a favorite restaurant is about more than the food.

MAGURO-YA

3565 Wai'alae Ave., between 10th and 11th avenues (next to Big City Diner)

Hours: 11 a.m.-1:45 p.m., 5-9:30 p.m. Tuesdays-Thursdays; 11 a.m.-1:45 p.m., 5-10 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays; 5-9:30 p.m. Sundays

Price: $3.50-$5.50 appetizers, $14.75-$19 teishoku (set dinners), $14.50-$32 sashimi and sushi dinners

Recommended: Maguro tataki, karei karaage

Across town in Kaimuki, Goro Obara toils behind his own sushi bar. At 8 o'clock on a Tuesday night, it's filled elbow-to-elbow.

But the sushi is not quite of Yohei's standard. While the restaurants share the shipments, according to Goro Obara, the execution is different. That same shiso-ume sushi here was off, with the ume barely detectable, it ended up a mouthful of raggedly cut shiso.

Where Maguro Ya excels is with its comforting cooked food. Entrees range from Japanese-style steak to tempura, all well-done crowd pleasers.

A standout is the karei karaage, fried flounder. Strips of meat are arranged on the fish's battered and fried head-and-tail-on skeleton — a crunchy potato-chippish snack in itself. The fish is so light and fluffy (yes, fluffy!) in a barely-there breading, that it's like a seafood souffle. Order it as teishoku and you get hijiki (black seaweed), iceberg salad, rice and a soothing chawan mushi, too.

Appetizers are well prepared. The kitchen sears cubes of ahi and serves them on a bed of seaweed and shredded shiso, accented with ponzu sauce. Even mozoku, that slimy, vinegary seaweed salad, comes topped with a flower of daikon triangles and shredded ginger.

Maguro-Ya has some style, with a blond wood boat hull projecting from the wall overhead, blockprint-style waves fashioned from wood veneer on one wall and shades of gray and pale blue-gray. The welcoming servers make you feel right at home, whether you're a Kaimuki regular or not.