Out to Eat in Sioux Falls: Taichi and the ultimate sushi burrito
Deciding where to eat and which exact menu items to get can be a hassle at some restaurants, especially for somebody like me who has trouble making basic decisions. Dr. Pepper or Mr. Pibb? Heck if I know!
I’m the kind of guy who walks into a Subway and asks the employee to make the sub however they feel is best. So when my friend Sam invited me to a nearby poke bowl restaurant, I felt daunted. From what she described, you could choose whatever you’d like to put in a bowl — from tuna and salmon to brown or white rice.
Despite my concern, she insisted that I could easily order off of a little screen instead of speaking to an employee — whose patience I would likely test — so I agreed to go.
Taichi, located just across from the Empire Mall, has a cult-like following among health-conscious people who seem to appreciate its pseudo-Asian cuisine’s nutritional benefits.
Sam said she’s heard patrons talk about how they eat there so often that it’s less a matter of if they’ll stop by Taichi and more of when they’ll go.
The first thing I noticed upon entering the restaurant was its trendy atmosphere. The whole place was tastefully decorated with light-colored wood, shrubbery and even one of those wavy-arm cat thingies that you often find in Asian restaurants. It was a clear appeal to the youth, playing plenty of modern-day pop hits over the radio. They were even playing Mitski, which Sam told me was notable, though I don’t know what that implies.
The digital kiosk at the front had a long line, so we opted to take one of the pamphlets they provided to decide what to put on our food. Like most of the people there, Sam already had a good idea of what she wanted for her meal. I, however, remained confused. There were what seemed like hundreds of options to choose from, and I couldn’t even begin to parse which boxes to tick. My flavor palate simply isn’t refined enough to tell the difference between tuna and salmon. I could have asked Sam to help me choose like she offered to do, but I made a drastic decision instead — one so drastic that the waiter had to come to our table and make sure it was a purposeful choice.
“Um, did you really want every single topping on your sushi burrito?” she asked.
I confirmed as much. If this place was really as good as everybody insisted, then everything on a single sushi burrito would work pretty well, right?
It worked perfectly, I discovered as I snarfed down the first half of the omni-burrito. The seaweed-rice wrapping was fit to burst and toppings began to leak out one end, but that was more my problem than the chef’s. The actual flavor was top-notch. I couldn’t quite tell which element, exactly, tasted so appealing to me, but the texture and flavor really impressed me.

There was something thrilling about tasting a new, fresh ingredient in every bite. Sometimes it would be crunchy; sometimes it would be firm or chewy. Nonetheless, I enjoyed each bite. I felt like a scavenger eating roadkill as the burrito’s myriad toppings crumbled into my hands and mixed into a violent color-swatch of viscera, likely leaving Sam disgusted. I let a few large pieces of broccoli or avocado fall to the table without any mind for manners. I didn’t care. It was really good, and I definitely got my money’s worth.
Sam’s order was a bit more traditional. She ordered a white rice bowl with tofu, beans, squash and Thai sweet chili sauce. It also looked pretty good. We also both got boba drinks: Sam ordered taro with tapioca, and I got mango with lychee popping boba. It was pretty affordable in terms of boba, and the flavors I chose mixed well together. I thoroughly enjoyed my drink, though the concept of a beverage with little solid pearls in it tends to creep me out thanks to an unfortunate frog-dissection experience I had in elementary school with a pregnant mother frog full of round, popping eggs.
All in all, the experience was pretty good and I would highly recommend Taichi’s sushi burrito. While ordering one with every topping might not suit everyone, it seemed like the perfect creation for an indecisive eater like me.