If you journey to Zen Fusion Sushi & Bistro off north Powers Boulevard seeking a transcendent experience, there are many paths you can choose: ornate rolls, simple, fresh and expertly carved nigiri, and an unexpected array of traditional Korean dishes, such as cross-cut short ribs lavishly slaked in a sweet and spicy garlic-ginger-chili marinade.

The new sushi space fits nicely into what was once NYPD Pizza. The pizza place’s taxi mural is still on the wall, but Zen expanded next door, creating a sleek, black and red dining room with cool lighting and a small bar in the back serving saketinis and other Asian-infused cocktails.

Owner Young Min Kim worked for years at Ai Sushi and creates carefully crafted rolls. The simple-sounding Albacore Maki ($14) shows how deftly he can combine colors, flavors and textures. It starts with a core of cooked albacore tuna — strong and ever-so-slightly sweet — wrapped with two unexpectedly authentic additions: traditional strips of crunchy pickled orange burdock root (no pedestrian carrot here) and sharp, tender green radish sprouts, called kaiware. The whole thing is wrapped in a cloak of sticky rice so thin that it is almost lace, and adorned with seared strips of tuna; impossibly thin emerald coins of jalapeño; crunchy, salty orange flying fish roe; and feathery shavings of bonito — smoked, dried fish.The layers blend crunchy, sour, sweet, hot, smoky and that indescribable flavor of the sea. And somehow they all work together and — just as important for chopstick users — hold together. This may be the best roll in the city.

Just as well-prepared, if a little overly sweet, is the Sunshine Roll ($12), which came recommended by the server. It starts with a California roll stuffed with sweet imitation crab and ripe avocado, then is topped with caps of glistening, fresh salmon, paper-thin crescents of raw lemon (rind and all) and a sweet, canary yellow sauce spiked with what tastes like lemon, sugar and wasabi.

Even with top offerings like the Albacore Maki, Zen does not quite obtain nirvana. While most of the big dishes are executed to perfection, many of the small ones feel rushed and unappreciated. And if Zen means anything, it means appreciating the deeper meaning of little things. Like the Zen master Hakuin Ekaku said, “Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.”

Take the free miso soup. Good miso soup is simultaneously simple and complex — a culinary koan made to tease the taste buds. But here it is thin and shallow-tasting. Too bad.The tempura vegetables ($3), too, seem to get short shrift. Ours were all potato and sweet potato, covered with far too much batter.

A beautiful plate of thin, red tempura-fried snapper slices ($4) suffered from the same problem — too much oily crust.

Most glaring, though, was the inattentive service. Even if you are the only diners in the restaurant, as I was at a recent lunch, spoons go undelivered. Drinks go unfilled. Remember: Chop wood, refill water.

The fusion in the name comes from a number of Korean dishes at the back of the menu. They echo the highs and lows of the sushi offerings. A plate of thinly cross-cut Korean beef short ribs ($18) on a mound of sautéed onions is addictively rich and tender, with a typically Korean marinade of garlic, ginger, sesamesoy, chilies and sugar. It is the upscale version of simple bulgogi.

Likewise, a steaming bowl of Korean-style ramen ($12) — swimming with slivers of carrot and green onion, black mushrooms, whole prawns, fish cake, crab and mussels — throws in everything from the sea (save for Davy Jones’ locker), but neglects the broth. It is vapid and dull, not like the rich, multilayered soups you can find in real ramen shops.

On balance, Zen is a good place. It obviously has the sushi chef to become a great place. It is not there yet, but it is on the path.

Owner Young Kim prepares Albacore Maki at Zen Fusion Sushi and Bistro Tuesday, July 19, 2011. Mark Reis, The Gazette Photo by

Albacore Maki at Zen Fusion Sushi and Bistro Tuesday, July 19, 2011. Mark Reis, The Gazette Photo by