Sushi Ichiban — Weird Eats & Drinks in Portland
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Entry No. 56 — the Portland file — filed under: conveyor-sushi

Sushi Ichiban

Most conveyor-belt sushi runs on a rubber belt; Sushi Ichiban runs on a model train, a tiny tank engine dragging flatcars of nigiri and rolls around a circular chef's counter while you lift plates off as they pass. It opened as Sushi Takahashi 1 and became Ichiban in 2008 during the recession, and the name locals actually use — Punk Rock Sushi — comes from the loud rock and the hair colors on both sides of the counter. Plates run about a dollar or two; a server counts your stack at the end. The house oddity is the Plager Roll (fried asparagus, rice, spicy mayo), so named because the recipe was frankly plagiarized from a cook's previous job and nobody remembers which one. Portland Monthly calls it "dingy yet beloved," which is the correct amount of both.

→ Three more weird eats & drinks in Portland — never the same twice

The story

The storefront is easy to walk past — a narrow black frontage on NW Broadway with a red sign, a block up from Burnside, sharing the block with the Ground Score Association. Inside is a circular chef's counter, and running around it on a raised track is a model train hauling flatcars of nigiri and rolls. Not a conveyor belt: an actual toy locomotive, doing laps. The space previously housed Sushi Takahashi 1, opened by Seiji Takahashi; the business took the name Sushi Ichiban in 2008, during the Great Recession. Kao Saechow owns it now.

The nickname people actually use is Punk Rock Sushi. The Oregonian's Michael Russell traces it to "the rainbow of hair color choices among staff and clientele," and the stereo does the rest. Portland Monthly calls the room a "dingy yet beloved magnet for budget eaters and train lovers" where "a tiny tank engine ferries plates of $1 sushi," which is the correct amount of both. Most plates land at a dollar or two, and a server counts your stack at the end. The house oddity is the Plager Roll, fried asparagus and rice under spicy mayo, with a Golden Plager variant that adds tobiko; Willamette Week reported the name came from a cook who lifted the recipe from a previous job nobody can now identify.

It has not always been beloved. In 2016 the Portland Mercury's Andrea Damewood wrote that quality had "dropped some" and the place was "perpetually understaffed," while still rating the salmon skin hand roll among the city's best — and remembering when someone sent a game of tic-tac-toe around on the train itself. The pandemic shut it; takeout resumed in May 2020 with three employees, and dine-in returned August 1, 2021, train intact, with about fifty cents added to most items. By then the Mercury was calling it "beloved."

What it's like

Get a counter stool — there are only a handful, and standing at a table watching the train go past someone else is not the same experience. Plates circle continuously; lift what you want as it reaches you, and don't put one back once you've touched it. Anything hot, or anything specific you actually want, you ask the chefs for directly across the counter rather than waiting for the track to produce it. The stack of empty plates in front of you is the bill, so don't tidy them away. It runs as two separate services with a dead afternoon in between, which means a 4pm arrival finds a locked door; there are no reservations, so arriving at the top of dinner service beats waiting. Loud rock throughout.

The move: Show up right at the 5pm dinner opening, take two adjacent stools at the circular counter, and make it a game: neither of you may order off the menu — you only eat what the train brings past, and you settle up on whoever's plate stack is shorter.

📍 Before you go Split hours: roughly Tue–Fri 11:30am–2:30pm and 5–9pm, Sat 12–3pm and 5–9pm, Sun–Mon dinner only 5–9pm — call before you walk over, since this is a small independent kitchen and hours drift. Counter seats are the whole experience; there are only a handful, and the train run is short, so a 5pm arrival beats the wait. Cash-friendly, cheap, and no reservations. It's in Old Town near the Broadway bridgehead — MAX and the streetcar both land within a few blocks, which is easier than parking.

Where: 24 NW Broadway, Portland, OR 97209

Hours: Added 2026-08-26 — confirm current hours before you go.

#conveyor-sushi #toy-train #punk #cheap-eats #old-town #counter-seating

Pair it with

  • 2NW5Three blocks west on NW 4th — dollar plates off a toy train, then a bar you have to know how to get into, which is a satisfying amount of range for one block of Old Town.
  • Shanghai Tunnels Underground Tour (Old Town Pizza & Brewing)Four blocks away on NW Davis, so the same neighborhood gives you dinner above ground and its most argued-over history below it.
  • Roseland TheaterBarely a block off on NW 6th: this is the cheap, fast pre-show dinner that makes an early Roseland doors time survivable.

More weird in Portland

Good to know

How do I get there and where do I park?

24 NW Broadway, in Old Town Chinatown a block north of West Burnside near NW Couch. MAX and the streetcar both stop within a few blocks and the Broadway Bridge lands almost on top of it; downtown street parking is metered and scarce, so transit is genuinely the easier option here.

What does dinner actually cost?

Most plates are a dollar or two — a Tiger roll or agedashi tofu around $2 — and your bill is the stack. Prices rose about fifty cents when dine-in came back in 2021 and it is still among the cheapest sit-down meals downtown; two people can eat properly for very little.

Do they take reservations?

No. There are only a handful of stools at the circular counter and the train's circuit is short, so the difference between a good visit and a mediocre one is arriving right when a service opens rather than an hour in.

What are the hours?

It runs a lunch service and a dinner service with the kitchen closed through the afternoon. This is a small independent kitchen and the exact times drift, so call ahead rather than trusting a listing — showing up mid-afternoon gets you a locked door.

Am I limited to whatever the train brings past?

Only if you want to be. The chefs work in the middle of the counter and take orders directly, which is how you get hot dishes and anything not currently circulating. The rule that matters: once a plate comes off the track it's yours.

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Further reading: Wikipedia · wweek.com · pdxmonthly.com

last checked: 2026-08-26