Downtown Japanese restaurant remains a staple after nearly 45 years

Lyn Yee sits on the patio of Blue Fin, the long-running casual Japanese restaurant that’s served downtown diners hearty plates of yakitori, teriyaki and katsu for nearly 45 years. The light rail shooshes by, chiming its arrival at the McDowell-Central Avenue stop. People breeze past, heading to the station or across the street to Burton Barr Library. Several step into Blue Fin’s patio and pull open the glass door, letting the faint smell of charcoal waft out.

Blue Fin is a bright, twee counter service restaurant. A handful of tables with yellow and blue metal swivel chairs fill the small dining room. A painted bluefin tuna, crafted by a customer, hangs next to neatly organized images of menu items and articles about the restaurant, which opened in 1981.

An article that has caught customers’ attention and brought some to tears over the last month is about the death of Blue Fin’s magnetic matriarch, and Yee’s mother, Betsy Mae Quan Toy Yee. Betsy died on Oct. 18; she was 91 years old.

Lyn is the second generation of her family to steward the restaurant over the decades. She has worked at the Central Avenue spot since 2006 and started running the place amid the pandemic. The Yee family has held its ground through plenty of challenges and changes. Shiny new high-rises have shot up around them, and the light rail initially threatened their building.  With a laugh, Lyn likens herself to the old man from the Pixar movie “Up.” 

“I plan on keeping it going. I’m trying to keep innovating but also keeping prices reasonable, keeping the hometown feel,” she says. 

View this post on Instagram

‘Good food, affordable prices’

Lyn’s mother took over Blue Fin a decade after it opened. She was technically retired from a career in education but had dabbled in real estate, including the building that housed Blue Fin. 

“She just had all this energy, and she needed to channel it somewhere,” Lyn says. 

This wasn’t Betsy’s first time working at a restaurant. Her parents opened Toy’s Shangri-La on 16th Street and Camelback in 1950. At the time, it was Phoenix’s largest Chinese restaurant. 

At Blue Fin, Betsy focused on hospitality, stopping by diners’ tables to ask them how their food was, refresh drinks, bring out more of Blue Fin’s housemade sauces or just chat. The restaurant became a staple among city officials, politicos and journalists working downtown, with lines snaking out the door at lunchtime. 

“I think it’s good food, affordable prices, but a lot of people came in just to see her,” Lyn says. “She had that personal touch. It’s nice to go into a restaurant where people know your name, people know your order.”

Mid-conversation on the patio, Lyn is approached by a man who shares his condolences. He’s visited Blue Fin for more than 20 years and called Betsy a “bright spot” on those days. Her voice catches as she reflects on these little moments so many people shared with her mom.

“It is neat to see that,” she says.

Valentino and Grace Orosco have visited Blue Fin at least once a week for more than 20 years. The couple sits at a table filled with plates of teriyaki chicken with fried rice, salad and egg rolls. Valentino had never eaten Japanese food until he visited Blue Fin, now he thinks he’s tried just about everything on the menu. 

The food isn’t the only reason they visit so often. They got to know Betsy, who Valentino called his “BFF.” They’d chat with her over their meal, including her last visit in August.

“Her legacy will live on with Lyn and her other family members,” Grace says.

An engineer turned restaurateur

Lyn didn’t intend to follow in her mother’s entrepreneurial footsteps. She worked as a mechanical engineer, then in strategic planning and finance for Disney. When none of her other siblings showed interest in taking over the family restaurant, she jumped in.

Though Lyn took a “significant” pay cut, she says being closer to her family was priceless, even if it meant the occasional butting of heads over business decisions.

“Once we figured that out and I realized my mom was pretty much right on most things, then it worked out great,” Lyn says with a laugh, crediting her mom for her “innate business sense.”

While she isn’t the extrovert her mother was, Lyn says that she’s heeding Betsy’s advice to continue to look at the restaurant with fresh eyes. Lyn has updated the dining room with new floors and sleek stone countertops. She’s added direct online ordering through Blue Fin’s website. The team creates specials that change with the season, such as a cold noodle salad and tempura Brussels sprouts. Right now, Lyn is developing a winter ramen with scratch-made bone broth.

“I tried to change up every month,” she says, “just to make it more innovative.”

Lyn also won’t let Blue Fin lose the personalized touch that’s become its hallmark. That’s easy, in part because she has a team whose individual tenures stretch 25 years and longer. It’s something that customers notice.

“We feel like we’re family,” Grace says.

Before they retired, the Oroscos would visit Blue Fin on their lunch break. Over the last two decades, Lyn has seen diners’ habits shift. Now, most folks order online and pick it up on their way home from work. In spite of that change, the owner works to maintain connections with her customers. 

“I do like feeling as though my work has meaning,” Lyn says. “You feel like you make a difference in somebody’s life. You can get to know them, or say a prayer for them, or just give them a smile.”

Lyn won’t retire anytime soon, and she’s hopeful that when she does, one of her nieces or nephews will take over the restaurant. Blue Fin’s regulars want that, too.

“We just hope it never closes,” Valentino says.

Blue Fin

1401 N. Central Ave.