Heavenly Bodies

"You're sure you're very hungry?" our waitress says. "Because the Lobster Monster is really big."

She eyes us with skepticism. Or it's a look that mingles skepticism ("they'll never eat all the food they've ordered") with politely concealed disgust ("these horrible people might eat all the food they've ordered"). Our waitress is beautiful. She weighs 83 pounds. She would never in a million years consider pigging out like this. Ugh, Americans!

But in heaven, don't we get to scarf down endlessly replicating plates of spring rolls and shumai and never get fat — indeed, never even get full? Because somehow, despite all the sins we've racked up over the years, tonight we've landed in Paradise. Around us, the world is an undulant, watery blue. We're perched on clouds of white pleather, cool trance music emanating from all directions. Stars in the form of elongated mod lamps sparkle overhead. In the distance, our very own personal sushi chef, in graceful slow-mo, is preparing us a kobe roll appetizer ($11.95) of lightly seared tuna — crunchy on the outside, melting pink within — squiggled with ethereally green wasabi sauce and dotted with solar-fire-colored tobiko. In a little while, another beautiful and slender waitress brings us a plate the exact hue of shallow seawater mixed with pure oxygen; when she puts down this divine edible, it seems to float above our table. Ah, the unbearable lightness of being...

We have found ourselves at Fah Asian Bistro and Sushi Bar. When we'd arrived, the candles on the empty outdoor tables were gusting in a cold wind; inside, the sky-colored room with its creamy banquettes was nearly empty, but it's late on a drizzly Monday night. People who love Asian fusion and sushi have already sussed out Fah, which means "blue sky," very welcome after three days of rain. It may be hunkered down inside a Publix plaza off Federal Highway in the tedious never-never land between Delray and Boca, but this place is no secret. The people who brought us Lemon Grass Asian Bistro in Delray and Sushi Thai in Boca — the other two best Asian restaurants in Palm Beach County — opened Fah about four months ago. This third seals the deal: Here's a trio of siblings as glamorous and smart as the Kennedys or the Brontë sisters. If I had to pick a favorite, I'd say I'm absolutely smitten with the youngest.

At Lemon Grass on Atlantic Avenue, you'll recall, the chefs play around with Vietnamese, Japanese, Thai, even Hawaiian flavors. I ate a scrumptious Vietnamese grilled pork dish over steamed rice noodles with nuac-nam sauce there a couple of weeks ago and also a dreamy piece of sea bass steamed with tamarind that melted in my mouth and simultaneously melted my heart. At Fah, they've extended their selection of sushi and rolls. The rest of the menu is divided into appetizers; Asian salads like shrimp-papaya or crispy duck; and Thai-inspired soups and meal-sized bowls of beef noodle pho, duck noodle, and udon. A good selection of mixed noodles, curries, fried rice, and wok-tossed meats and vegetables rounds out a dozen special entrées. Some of these are carried over from Lemon Grass, and some, like Babe on the Stick and Naughty Shrimp, are new.

Proprietors Tammy Grayson and company have achieved an admirable level of brilliance and market savvy; they've slid into a South Florida niche like tempura-battered shrimp into hot oil. They're not selling the authentic taste of Bangkok or Tokyo; far from it. They know South Floridians generally like their sushi rolls cooked, fatty, inside out, and with cute, libidinous names like "Sex on the Moon," "Y2K roll," "American Dream," and "First Love roll." They know that we want them to look spectacularly pretty and, ideally, to fill up an entire plate. Thus, the Lobster Monster ($19.95, also at Lemon Grass) is a beast — cooked lobster chunks tossed in three sauces — eel, mayo, and a drizzle of something spicy — then stuffed back into the tail shell and surrounded by rolls filled with tempura lobster, cucumber, asparagus, and masago. It's decadent. It's mouth-filling and heady, full of overlapping creamy textures offset by the right amount of crunch.

The lobster dish, which ought to have comfortably fed the three of us, was in fact only one of nine — count 'em — dishes we'd ordered. Hence, our waitress' appalled look. By the time we'd slain the monster, we'd already put away that fantastic kobe tuna appetizer and a delightful dish of warm pork- and chicken-stuffed Thai steamed dumplings ($6.95), little tender packages of minced, peppery meat to dip in a pale orange duck sauce. Now we're working on giant-sized tempura calamari rings ($6.95), with a crust cloud-light and greaseless, steamy squid mildly salty, still tasting of the ocean.