Japanese steakhouses in Kansas City were few and far between when I was growing up. They weren&rsquo;t just restaurants &mdash; they were destinations, usually reserved for birthdays, proms and other celebrations.</p><p>But several have popped up in the suburbs recently, and now it seems everyone has a favorite, which is interesting considering they all basically prepare the same food in the same style.</p><p>I recently took a group to Sumo by Nambara, a Wichita-based restaurant that opened a second location in our area recently on the northwest corner of 135th Street and Roe Avenue in Leawood.</p><p>The atmosphere was impressive &mdash; a very chic, large open room with high ceilings and 10-foot-tall windows across the front of the restaurant. The shiny cement floors and black tables and chairs gave the restaurant a real contemporary flair &mdash; something the older steakhouses in town might want to pick up on.</p><p>The sushi bar was in the back of the restaurant, but we decided to stick with teppanyaki, where the chef prepares your meal, stir-fried, at your table. In Japanese, <em>teppan </em>means iron plate, and <em>yaki </em>means stir-fried food.</p><p>As the evening began, I started listing in my head all the little things that can make or break a trip to a Japanese steakhouse. Among them:</p><p><strong>&bull;The atmosphere. </strong>Sometimes, these restaurants can be old, dirty and dark, and you leave with your clothes smelling like some kind of cooking oil. Your hands can stick to the table. Or the place is so loud you can&rsquo;t have a conversation because all around you, chefs at other stations are banging their salt shakers and guests are oohing and ahing.</p><p>Sumo was clean, sleek and odor-free. Our tables looked brand new, and the chef cleaned up his station as he moved along from the appetizer to the main meal.</p><p>Japanese steakhouses are not known for their intimacy. At Sumo, the tables aren&rsquo;t separated by partitions or separate rooms, but the tables are spaced farther apart than at other Japanese steakhouses I&rsquo;ve been to. The noise level was fine for our group.</p><p><strong>&bull;Your chef.</strong> His goal is to juggle sharp knives, light food on fire and ensure the guests have a good time.</p><p>Our chef at Sumo was a young man who talked to the teenagers at the table, made sure they each had plenty of chances to catch a flying shrimp off his spatula, and made the younger child roll with laughter when he used a little plastic man with water coming out of you-know-where to put out the fire on the onion volcano.</p><p>Our chef&rsquo;s utensils became musical instruments as he drummed on the side of the cooktop, and we were quite impressed with his &ldquo;ding ding ding&rdquo; that really did sound like a railroad crossing signal.</p><p>And how did he make those eggs spin for so long?</p><p><strong>&bull;The service. </strong>In reading several reviews of Japanese steakhouses over the years, I can tell you that service makes or breaks what is suppose to be a really fun night. Many times, a night out at a Japanese steakhouse is a celebration for a family or a couple. They want the experience to be perfect and special, and that often depends on how good the service is.</p><p>At Sumo, the service was top-notch. We had to wait 15 minutes for the last two people in our party to arrive.</p><p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s fine,&rdquo; the waitress said as she seated us at our table and took drink orders. &ldquo;No problem at all.&rdquo;</p><p> Although we were ordering teppanyaki, she took lots of time explaining sushi to our guests and ushered them to the sushi bar to take a look at all the selections and talk to the chef.