Dine at the right time, get the right server, and order the right things, and you can have a dazzling meal at Dallas’s very own Nobu, an outpost of renowned chef Nobu Matsuhisa’s eponymous restaurant empire. I, for one, liked my seared toro (the prized “fatty tuna”) with jalapeño, and I was wowed by the tiradito—impeccably cut raw fluke doused with a glorious blend of citrus juices, including aromatic Japanese yuzu, and dabbed with Peruvian chile paste. What’s more, my friend and I were attended by an eager youth who seemed genuinely concerned for our welfare. But on that very same night we also suffered boring, undercooked tempura (I knew better than to order something so mundane, but imagined that here of all places it might be special), and three free-range waiters in succession dictatorially explained Nobu’s preferred order of courses (sushi last—so we wouldn’t fill up on rice, we surmised). During all of which the roar of the crowd periodically surged to jet-runway levels. Would I go back? For some things, absolutely—but first I’ll have to get over the shock of paying $60 a person and leaving hungry. PATRICIA SHARPE