hen I first visited Tri Express, I scoffed. It was just too American, I told the commoners who insisted I visit. The tiny bamboo and sterile tile space screamed Mr. Submarine - not the chic Japanese eatery I was expecting. Even the musical soundtrack was chintzy J-pop. Things were just looking oh so grim.

And then, our sushi rolls arrived. Five visits later, I'm a regular, culinary bigot, but I learned my lesson.

Turns out that Tri Express is not, in fact, the quintessential sushi eatery, but much more - or less, depending on how you look at it: efficient during lunch, fast enough for a serious bite, staffed with a serious chef who can wow you with off-the-menu gems. Sushi chef Tri Du's menu lists about 20 varieties of seafood, approximately the same number of rolls and only three dishes that might be considered entrees. Tri offers good but preserved wasabi paste (although Tri's Le Petit Treehouse had fresh wasabi), stocks no booze, and is a cash-only operation.

Chef Tri Du churns up sushi behind the counter while the typical St. Laurent mob paraded through the doors, armed with packages of cutely named entrées - the Le St-Joseph roll, Le Cartier roll and the Montreal roll.

The primary draw of this stripped-down operation is the unusually fresh and high quality seafood via the buying power and strict discernment of Tri, who certainly knows his stuff. Among regular items are less-common treats such as fatty tuna (toro) and fatty maki rolls and nigiri sushi of tuna, salmon and shrimp. As well as Spanish mackerel and sweet shrimp.