It used to be that Warsaw’s post-communist restaurant holdovers seemed immovable—dimly lit places with menus untouched since the ’90s. But lately, new blood is rushing in, and Nook is one of the brightest examples of how good things can get when the old guard is finally nudged aside.
The space itself feels alive, even before you’ve ordered a bite. Hip flying-fish motifs dart across the décor, and the open kitchen buzzes like a stage performance—you’re not just waiting for dinner, you’re part of the show. When the food does arrive, it feels like the payoff of a well-rehearsed act.

Take the Cali Gold roll: salmon layered so generously you almost expect the fish to flop back onto your plate. The truffle-laced tartare, silky mayo, and pop of caviar push it firmly into indulgence territory. This is not sushi for calorie counters; this is sushi for people who love to be overwhelmed.
But sushi is only half the story. The Katsu Sando—built on pillowy Hokkaido bread from Mon Nom Bakery—comes stacked with chicken marinated in sake, cloaked in golden panko, then offset with crisp cabbage and a sly miso mayo. It’s a sandwich that makes you grin as you eat it, all softness and crunch, warmth and tang.

On my visit, a neighboring table’s ramen inspired a moment of envy. Judging by the wide-eyed, anime-worthy expression of its recipient, it’s what I’ll be back for next time. Drinks hold their own as well: a matcha riff with peach, passionfruit espuma, and milk could stand tall in any café.
Service is part of the charm, too. The waitstaff flit through the room with an easy warmth, and plates land with impressive efficiency despite the steady buzz. If there’s a catch, it’s that Nook is already drawing a loyal crowd, and as word spreads, scoring a table might become the hardest part of the meal. Still, with food this good, it’s easy to say: Nook is off the hook.