Japan

Sunday, 21 July 2013

More on Amochinmi’s Onomichi Ramen (阿藻珍味の尾道ラ一メン)

We bought more Onomichi ramen (尾道ラ一メン) from Amochinmi (阿藻珍味) in spring.  They came with different soup stock.  One was a light version of the regular shouyu soup – ‘Assari!’ – prepared withusukuchi shouyu (light soy sauce 薄味醤油) and half the amount of pork fat.  Another was a rich version – ‘Noukou kotteri!’ – made with kogashi shouyu (caramelized soy sauce焦がし醤油).  The third was ‘Tonkotsu’ (とんこつ), a white stock of pork bone and in this case enriched with small fish from Seto Inland Sea and oysters from Hiroshima prefecture.  All were very good.

Assari! ramen

Noukou kotteri! ramen

Tonkotsu ramen

We ate them with slices of home-made chashu, and sometimes with boiled gyuutan (beef tongue).  

ramen with beef tongue

*  *  *

Amochinmi has introduced a number of cold ramen for the hot Japan summer.  The offerings include chilled lemon (冷やし檸檬ラーメン) and tomato ramen (冷やしトマトラーメン), cold ramen with sesame sauce (ごまだれ) and sweet vinegar sauce (甘酢だれ), and the spicy hot Hiroshima tsukeramen (広島流つけ麺).  Tsukeramen, originated from Hiroshima, is cold ramen eaten with a dipping sauce that has been spiced up with red hot chili pepper (唐辛子), nin’niku (garlic) and goma (sesame).  We are looking forward to trying all of them as soon as they are delivered.

*  *  *

Besides Amochinmi, we tried a shio koji (塩麴) ramen made by Menno Shimizuya of Hida (飛騨), GifuPrefecture (岐阜県).  

shio koji ramen

Shio koji, the fermented product of rice inoculated with a mould culture called aspergillus oryzae (the samestarter for sake, soy sauce and miso), salt and water.  It has been the latest trendy food ingredient in Japan for its health benefits.  Firstly, it is a probiotic.  Secondly, it contains much less sodium than salt but just as much umami.  It is being used in place of salt for seasoning and pickling.  We have enjoyedkaraage (deep fried chicken meat) and tsukemono (pickled vegetables eaten with rice) marinated with shio koji, so we were eager to try this shio koji ramen.  We were surprised that the soup gave us a thirst for the rest of the day.  I could not understand that since one benefit of shio koji was to reduce the sodiumintake.  Out of curiosity, I read the nutritional information on the back of the soup packet and was shocked that it contained 2,515 mg of sodium, 10% over the recommended daily limit of 2,300 mg.  Incredible!!! 

*  *  *

My not-so-precise recipe for making Japanese Chashu (チャ一シュ一):

Poaching liquid:  Put a cup of koikuchi shouyu (濃口醤油 dark soy sauce), mirin (みりん sweet cooking sake) and junmai sake (純米清酒 sake brewed without added alcohol) into a pot.  Heat up the liquid to a gentle boil.  Add sugar to your taste.  

Pork for Chashu:  The pork should have some fat.  Many people use kata rosu (肩口一ス shoulder roast) orbara (バラ pork belly).  I use both, and sometimes also sotomomo (そともも pork butt). 

Cooking the Chashu:  Make sure there is enough poaching liquid to cover the pork; add water if necessary.  Bring the liquid to a boil.  Add the pork.  Let the liquid returns to boiling.  Cover the pot and turn off the heat.  After 15 minutes, bring the liquid to a boil a second time.  Again, turn off the heat and leave the pork in the covered pot.  Repeat the process a couple of more times for a large piece of pork.   Slice the chashu thinly for ramen.  This quick recipe is very different from the usual ones that simmer thechashu for a long time until it is tender.    

Home made chashu

Save the poaching liquid:  The liquid keeps well if you refrigerate it after it cools down.  You can reuse it for making more chashu or braising other meat.  The liquid acquires more flavors from the meat with each use.  You can also reduce the liquid to make a thick sweet sauce similar to tare for yakitori and teriyaki.

Sunday, 20 January 2013

Ryozanpaku 京·百万遍 梁山泊

One of our favorite restaurants in Kyoto is Ryozanpaku (梁山泊).  

I was intrigued when I read about Ryozanpaku in magazines years ago.  The name suggested a Chineserestaurant for Ryozanpaku was where the characters of Shuihu Zhuan (水滸伝, one of China's Four Great Classic Novels, commonly known in English as "The Water Margin" or "All Men Are Brothers") lived.  I was surprised that the food was Kyo-ryori (京料理), the elegant Kyoto-style kaiseki cuisine.

Owner/chef Hashimoto Kenichi-san (橋本憲一さん), with his desire for his guests to eat and drink with great pleasure and abandon, named his restaurant Ryozanpaku as the characters in the novel lived a lifestyle of “eat, drink and be merry” with “big bowls of wine and big plates of meat (大杯酒, 大塊肉)”. 

Every morning Hashimoto-san goes to the Kyoto Wholesale Market (Kyoto’s counterpart of Tokyo’s Tsukiji Market) for the best seasonal fish and vegetables that his kitchen turns into impeccable dishes.

*     *     *

Ryozanpaku is in an extraordinary traditional Japanese house.  One walks through the wooden gate along a stone path in the small garden to its front door.  Immediately one is greeted by the kimono-clad Okami(女將, the Mistress of the restaurant) with a smile.  Beyond the foyer is the large front room with an exquisite hand-crafted oversized square wood table.  On the right is the open kitchen with a counter for customers.  Hanging above the counter is a long hand-written menu.  On the left are cabinets with displays, and the steps to an elevated level of zashiki (tatami rooms).  The floor of the front room is laid with flat stones and the ceiling is covered with latticed woodwork.  The tatami rooms are spacious and tastefully decorated in the traditional manner, each with tokonoma (alcove) that displays an ikebana arrangement and a scroll of painting.    At day time one can enjoy a lavish view of the garden. 

*     *     *

 Here are some examples of the food we had at Ryozanpaku.

Sakizuke (先附) – Appetizers of chaburinamako (茶ぶり生子, sea cucumber shaken in tea),

 takenoko (筍 木芽和, bamboo shoot), kazunoko (数の子, herring roe)

 Osuimono (お吸いキの) – Clear soup with ebi, tofu and nama yuba maki

 Mukozuke (向附) -- sashimi (お造り) of sea trout, saroyi (針魚), kawahagi (皮剥),  

okoze (虎魚,scorpion fish), mongou ika (紋甲いか, cuttlefish);

Condiments of matcha-shio (salt with green tea powder, kimo sauce, and soy sauce

 Takimono (焚物) – Seasonal Kyoto yasai

Buri saikyouyaki (冰見鰤 西京燒, Kyoto style grilled Japanese amberjack),  

バナナ梅干わさびクリ一ム和 (banana and dried ume in wasabi cream), 

karasumi daikon (唐墨大根, dried fish roe on radish), 豆腐ス乇一ク (smoked tofu on mandarin), 

goma kon’nyaku (胡麻蒟蒻, sesame “devil’s tongue” jelly), namasu (膾, carrot and radish in vinegar)

 Yakimono (燒物) -- Awabi in kimo sauce (燒あわび)

 Gohan (御飯) – Green shiso gohan

*     *     *

Ryozanpaku offers a large selection of sake as well as Champagne and Burgundy wines.  We had our first sparkling sake there a few years ago.  It was specially brewed by a sake toji (brew master) for Hashimoto-san.  Rice wine obviously could not produce bubbles like Champagne.  Nevertheless the fizzes were very pleasant.  Hashimoto-san also stocks Japanese whiskeys at the restaurant.  One evening, he paired our dinner with whiskey – Hakushu 12-y.o., Hibiki 17-y.o., and a special Hitomi 19-y.o. (a single cask of vintage 1991 by Yamazaki Distillery).   At another sumptuous meal, he shared with us a bottle of Jadot 2009 Beaune 1er Cru “150^th Anniversary Cuvee”.

    

*     *     * 

 Hashimoto-san is an exceptional chef, a gourmet of Japanese, Asian and European cuisines, and a connoisseur of fine Burgundies and whiskeys.  The Okami, elegant Mrs. and cheerful Miss Hashimoto, are most gracious and hospitable.  They ensure that every detail of the meal is properly attended to from the time of the guests’ arrival to their departure.  We have always enjoyed ourselves at Ryozanpaku whether we ate at the counter or in the tatami rooms.  Always the warm welcome, excellent food and drinks, impeccable service and lovely ambience; what more can we ask?

*     *     *

In recent years, a number of eateries named “Ryozanpaku” have popped up in Japan, Hong Kong and the U.S.  They have nothing to do with our all-time favorite, the one and only Michelin 2-star Ryozanpaku in the Hyakumanben area of Kyoto (京·百万遍).  

*     *     *

Restaurant website: 京·百万遍   梁山泊 www.ryozanpaku.net

Address: 5 Izumidono-cho Yoshida, Sakyo-ku, Kyoto 京都市 左京区 吉田泉殿町5

SATURDAY, 6 OCTOBER 2012

Japan Has Good Chinese Food

One expects the best Chinese food in Hong Kong, China and Taiwan.  Would one be surprised that Japan has excellent Chinese food as well?  

I hope my photographs, taken in some restaurants in the Tokyo and Osaka areas, will convince you that it is indeed the case.  The five dishes, in order, are whole crispy skin chicken 炸子鷄, braised abalone 蚝皇鮑魚, scrambled egg with shark fin and crab meat 蟹肉桂花翅, roasted pork belly 焼腩, and braised suppon (soft shell turtle) 红焼国產山瑞.  

           

 Not all Chinese restaurants in Japan deliver such refined dishes.  Most places serve up Japanese-Chinese cuisine that has been modified to suit the Japanese palate.  Some dishes are particularly popular – shumai 焼売 and shouronpou 小籠包 for dim-sum; banbanji 棒棒鶏 and kurage (海蜇頭 jellyfish) for appetizers; mabo-doufu 麻婆豆腐 for main dish; and of course chahan 炒飯.  Champon ちゃんぽん, a noodle soup topped with stir-fried seafood, pork, vegetable, is also well liked.  Ramen 拉麵, another version of Chinese inspired noodle soup, together with gyoza 餃子, are probably the most popular cheap fast food around Japan.  Yes, Chinese restaurants are everywhere and Japanese likes them.

MONDAY, 24 SEPTEMBER 2012

Be Careful What You Wish For - Lunch at Sukiyabashi Jiro (すきゃぱし次郎)

 

I have always wanted to eat nigiri zushi made by the master Ono Jiro (小野二郎さん), long before he became famous around the world.

His restaurant, Sukiyabashi Jiro (すきゃぱし次郎), came up when I went through books and magazineslong ago for information on top sushi restaurants in Tokyo.  In the book “Sukiyabashi Jiro Makes Seasonal Nigiri Zushi すきゃぱし次郎 旬を握ゐ”, the author Satomi Shinzo explained Jiro-san’s sushi in great details with photographs and illustrations, from the nigiri of the four seasons, everything-you-want-to-know-aboutHon Maguro (本鮪Japanese blue fin tuna), preparation of fish, nori and rice, to the technique of makingnigiri zushi.  NHK (Japan’s public television organization) produced a series called “Professionals” and one episode featured Ono Jiro as a sushi shokunin (鮨職人).  A shokunin (職人) is an artisan who has mastered the skills, achieved the ability to create beauty and developed the attitude that it is his social obligation to work his best.  Jiro-san well deserves the title as he has dedicated his life to make the “perfect” sushi.  He went to Tsukiji Market every morning to buy the best quality fish until he turned 70.  Even though he is 86 now (2012), he works behind his sushi counter everyday because of his commitment to his quest.  It was his shokunin spirit, not his fame, which fueled my desire to eat his sushi.  

    

We had not eaten at Sukiyabashi Jiro until recently because it was very difficult to get a reservation.  I tried twice over the years without success.  It did not, and does not, take walk-ins.  First timers, I heard, were required to have an introduction from regular customers.  After it was awarded three Michelin stars in 2007, foreign television travel and food show hosts and foodies flocked there despite its well known unwillingness to serve non-Japanese speaking customers.  Interestingly, Sukiyabashi Jiro is not rated high on the Japanese restaurant review site 食べ口グ (literal translation: “Eat Blog”,  http://tabelog.com/ ).  Its rating is below Mizutani (水谷), Harukata (青空), Sushizen (すし善) and Kyubei (久兵衛), just to name a few other sushi restaurants in the same part of Tokyo.  None but one of our friends want to eat at SukiyabashiJiro.

Hashimoto-san, our good friend who has eaten there, is in the restaurant business and she gets the inside scoop on the industry.  Knowing our interest in Sukiyabashi Jiro, she updated us from time to time.  Shewould say, “You better hurry, Jiro-san is getting old.”  When Jiro-san was absent from his restaurant, she would sound a warning, “Jiro-san did not go to work today; he did not feel well”, followed a few days laterwith the good news that “Jiro-san is back but you should really hurry.”  Eventually, Hashimoto-san scored a lunch reservation for us.

We learned some facts from Hashimoto-san on eating at Sukiyabashi Jiro.  No alcohol was served during the meal because drinking dulled the taste buds and prevented the diners from appreciating the sushi.  The prix fixe meal, consisting of about twenty pieces of sushi with different neta (fish topping) served rapidly one after another, lasted about 20 minutes.  The diners ate the sushi as soon as it was placed on the serving plate so that the fish and rice would be at the optimal temperature and did not get dry from sitting around.  The reason of serving sushi in rapid succession was to keep the diner focused.  “If they want to drink and talk, they should go somewhere else,” according to Jiro-san.

On the way to lunch, I was filled with excitement and apprehension.  I was excited because finally my dream of eating at Sukiyabashi Jiro was coming true, and apprehended because I feared how our lunchwould turn out.  We had been disappointed by some very well regarded restaurants in the past, and would this be another one?

When we arrived, we were seated before the son Ono Yoshikazu (小野禎一).  Jiro-san was making sushi for four other customers.  There was a menu for each diner announcing the order of sushi being served that day.  The meal went exactly the way described by Hashimoto-san.  There was just one surprise – Jiro-san did not make our sushi!!  He made it for the four customers who came before us and the customer after us, but not us.  (A note: it was the son who cut the fish; Jiro-san had stopped doing it for a while).

We were disappointed beyond words because the whole purpose of going there was to eat sushi made by Jiro-san.  Otherwise, we would have gone somewhere else for a lot less money and no hassle.  We could have gone any time to its own branch in Roppongi Hills (operated by his second son) for ¥10,000 less per person.  Mrs. Akujiki was angry.  She was going to tell Jiro-san that either he made our sushi or we walked out.  I stopped her because I believed that her protest would be futile, and it would just embarrass Hashimoto-san.  After three or four pieces of sushi, Mrs. Akujiki stopped eating.  She sat there with her back straight and a displeased look on her face.  She was staging a diner’s strike.  The poor piece of sushi on her serving plate sat untouched.  To lessen the tension, I continued with my course at machine gun speed.  When I finished, I started eating her piece, and eventually finished her course as well.  As bad as it sounds, our experience was not the worst at Sukiyabashi Jiro.  Someone reported on the internet that when his wife could not keep up with the speed and requested for a brief break, the chef simply took away her sushi.  Now, that was BAD.

Our disappointment was severe.  But what really ruined our meal was the stern demeanor of Jiro-san and his son.  The whole time there was not a faintest trace of smile, not a slightest nod of the head, not any sign of acknowledgement.  They came across as arrogant, cold and indifferent.  We have never been to a restaurant that we felt so unwelcomed.  

As a rule, Mrs. Akujiki always complimented the chef at the end of a good meal.  In return, the chef and staff always smiled, bowed, and thanked her.  At Sukiyabahi Jiro, both sides ignored each other when we left.  I had brought along my copy of Sukiyabashi Jiro Shiyunwonigiru for autograph, but I saw no point to ask for it.  

That was how one of my most anticipated meals went.  Mrs. Akujiki said to me afterward, “Be careful what you wish for”.  

I thought a lot about the whole affair afterward.  What had happened?  Were we unreasonable to be angry? 

The sushi made by Jiro’s son was good, although with my unsophisticated palate I honestly could not say that it was better than what we had at other well respected sushi restaurants.  I wonder if I would feel differently if our sushi was made by Jiro-san.  That we will not know.  We felt that we were badly treated.  Isuspect that the unfriendly service is driven by Jiro-san’s attitude that he only wants to make sushi for those who he thinks can appreciate it.  That could very well explain why he delegated first time customers like us to the son.  I can understand that sort of thinking.  I can accept an artisan being proud.  But I do not think that can justify the father and son, as restaurateurs, be so arrogant and rude to their customers.  

Will we go back?  I think not, unless we are in the company of one of Jiro-san’s valued customers. Otherwise, I’d go to Mizutani or Harukata instead.   

EPILOGUE

We ate that evening at Bird Land, a yakitori restaurant in the same basement across from Sukiyabashi Jiro.  When the chef owner, Toshihiro Wada san (和田利弘さん), chatted with us after dinner outside his restaurant, Jiro-san emerged from his own place.  Wada-san knew that we had lunch at Jiro that day but he was unaware of our experience.  He told us about Jiro-san’s incredibly soft hands.  Before we knew, Wada-san was introducing us to Jiro-san, and the four of us bowed, smiled and shook hands.  Jiro-san’s hands were indeed incredibly soft; we could not feel any bone.  We stood there for a few minutes making polite conversations before we bid good night.  The whole time during that brief encounter, we wondered what went through Jiro-san’s mind.  For sure he remembered us.  We sat at his sushi counter just a few hours earlier.  We staged a strike; we stayed longer than any other customers.  He had completely ignored us. And yet, a few hours later, with a twist of fate, he had to smile and shake our hands.  How strange sometimes life’s events could be.  We called it our “revenge on Jiro”.

SUNDAY, 1 JULY 2012

Korean Dinner at Houba in Osaka

Our friends invited us to a dinner party in Osaka.  We arrived at a humble Korean restaurant on a side street in Kita-ku, not far from an arcade of restaurants, bars and pachinko parlours.   Despite the lack of glamour, we anticipated an evening of great food because the host and the other guests were food experts.  

It was a family restaurant.  The young chef, in his thirties, and his mother worked in the semi-open kitchen.  A young woman worked the front.  There were only two long tables, one for six and another that seat probably ten as it extended to a tiny counter by the kitchen.  The eleven of us were comfortable in the small dining room since the host had booked the whole restaurant for the private dinner.      

The meal started with earthen crocks of makkoli, house brewed unfiltered Korean rice wine, which had gained popularity in Japan.  The first cup was the clear liquid skimmed from the top.  It tasted mildly sweet and not that alcoholic.  Subsequent cups were scooped from the bottom.  The drink was milky white with a different texture and slightly fizzy.  Both were pleasant drinks.   

Soon into the meal, the lady server brought cold oksusu cha (corn tea), a Korean tisane made from boiling roasted corn kernels in water.  It was most refreshing, with a clean mild toasty taste and a bare hint of natural sweetness.  It went very well with the dishes.  I switched from makkolito the corn tea for the rest of the meal.  The other folks finished their makkoli and moved onto beer and Jinro (眞露), the best selling Korean soju (燒酒).

It was a ten-course dinner.  Many courses were served in communal style, with a plate of food for every four people.  The other courses were in individual portions.

The first course was an array of namul (seasoned vegetable dishes) which were usually served asbanchan (side dishes).  The serving lady brought out a few small plates at a time, arranging them into a group of parallel straight lines.  All together, there were 23 small plates, each made with a different seasonal vegetable.  Some ingredients were common, such as soy bean sprouts, spinach and celery.  Most were leafy Kyo yasai (Kyoto vegetables).  One special item was thin slices of white makomotake (真菰) about the size of a mahjong tile.  I recognized it when the serving lady showed me the raw ingredient.  It was the swollen stem of a kind of wild rice grown in swamps of China and Japan (known as 茭白 in China).  The word “take” was in the name because the stem had been infected with smut fungus.  There were also three traditional kimchee.  The portion of each plate was small, with just enough for each person to have a bite.  Together, the small plates made a lovely course.  I was impressed by the fine knife work and the delicate seasoning.  The group of namul was incredibly satisfying.  I would not mind to have them as a meal.

Next was an individual serving of grilled oysters on top of yuzu “chawanmushi”.  The texture of the two oysters was impeccable; they were firm and moist.  The taste was intense and delicious.  The citrus was used as a bowl for the savory steamed egg custard.

This was followed by a plate of two long golden brown omelets, each cut into four pieces.  One was filled with shirako (白子 cod milt) and the other with nanohana (菜の花) and ebi.  I liked theshirako omelet more (yes, I am a shirako fan).  The pan fried nanohana was a little hard.

Then came awabi gohan – sautéed awabi (abalone) slices on top of rice enriched with the dark green awabi kimo (abalone liver).  It was very well prepared.  The abalone slices were tender, and the rice picked up the“earthiness” of the liver.  Delicious and very Japanese.  

The fifth course was deceptively simple – a small piece of tofu in a small amount of broth, topped with finely sliced greens and a slice of Japanese lime.  The tofu was incredibly silky.  The clear broth was made with suppon (Japanese snapping turtle), a delicacy and a luxury.

At that point, the chef came out from the kitchen with a large stock pot in his hands.  He walked around the room and showed the pot to everybody.  Inside was an aromatic clear broth, a whole chicken and a whole fresh Korean ginseng the size of a baby’s arm.  He took the pot back into the kitchen after the parade.  And I expected a bowl of chicken soup anytime soon.

 Next was a light meat course – thin slices of cooked beef cheek, mizuna (水菜, a Kyoto leafy green) and mustard.  We rolled the meat around some vegetable to eat.

A vegetarian dish followed – thick harusame (春雨 cellophane noodles made from potato starch), soy bean sprouts, carrots, wood ear and some greens, gently dressed with sesame oil.

The eighth was deep fried chunks of bone-in fugu (blowfish).  I had the largest piece with the collar attached (bones made the fish tasted better).  The seasoning was slightly spicy hot, making the fish even more delicious.  Oishii!!

The ninth course was pork belly slices cooked in Korean hot bean paste on a hot plate.  It was accompanied by lettuce, something that looked like arugula, and ggaennip (Korean “sesame leaves”).    We wrapped the belly pieces with the leaves to eat.  The sesame leaves looked like oversized ooba but its aroma and flavor were different.

The chicken soup never came.  Instead the lady served us porridge in individual bowls.  The flavor of chicken and ginseng came through loud and clear.  There went the soup that I was waiting for. 

After ten courses, the dinner ended with “dessert” – a piece of dark green kusamochi (草餅) cut in halves.  Kusamochi is a rice cake made with yomogi (蓬, 艾草, mugwort, wormwood).  The mochi was plain, not filled with red bean paste.  Its taste was mild with a hint of bitterness.  A satisfying way to end the dinner.

The restaurant was 韓菜酒家 ほうげ (Houba), the first Korean restaurant in Japan awarded a Michelin star.  In my opinion, the food deserved at least two stars.  But the location and the decor did not meet the Michelin inspector’s expectation for luxury as it was an ordinary people’s restaurant.  My dinner there was not only my best Korean meal but also one of my most memorable meals of all times.

SUNDAY, 1 JULY 2012

Japan Cheap Eats

Japan boasts the highest number of Michelin 3-star restaurants in the world.  Its 2012 Tokyo Guide lists 292 one-, two- and three-starred restaurants.  But few Japanese can afford to eat in them.  According to the 2010 Tokyo Metropolitan Government statistics, an average household of 3 people spent ¥17,000 (roughly about US$170) eating out per month.  That amount is enough for one person eating a dinner at one of the less expensive Michelin restaurants. 

Fortunately, Tokyo has an incredibly large number of restaurants (160,000 in 2009 is the latest stat that I can find).  The majority are reasonably priced.  Many are downright cheap.  To steer the ordinary diners to the best inexpensive restaurant meals are two anti-Michelin guides -- Shominchelin (庶ミンシュラン  or Ordinary People’s Michelin) and the Meshiran.

There are many forms of cheap eats – soba, ramen, yakitori, horumon (grilled offal), and more.  I am listing three of my favorites below, not in any order.   They are Japanese fast food and they cannot be any cheaper, way below ¥1,000 for a meal.

I like Yoshinoya (吉野家), a chain that specializes in gyu-don 牛丼, rice bowl with topping of onion and beef cooked in the “sukiyaki” style.  I eat there regularly because I like the food and it is Japanese fast food.  The rice of the gyu-don is cooked properly, the very thinly sliced beef is not tough, the onion slivers are cooked through and sweet, the savory sauce with a hint of sweetness brings everything together.  That combination easily satisfies the hungry man inside me.  All these for an unbeatable ¥380.  Another ¥50 for a raw egg would make the meal almost luxurious.  By the way, tea is free and bottomless.  

Another cheap eat is tachigui (立食), which means literally “stand-up eating”.  Most tachigui places are in or near train and subway stations.  My favorite is a tachigui udon shop by the Akasaka-Mitsuke subway station in Tokyo.  In winter mornings, on my way to catch a train, I often stop there for breakfast.  Entering through a sliding door, I occupy a spot at the kitchen counter that is large enough for eight standing customers, and call out my order.  The owner cooks the thick white wheat noodle, put it in a bowl of broth and places it on the counter in front of me.  I slurp my noodle, pay and leave.  The whole process takes just a few minutes.  No one lingers as there is no room.  The tiny shop serves no drink, not even water.  If I am thirsty, which is usually the case because of the broth, I can buy a can of tea or coffee, either hot or cold, from a curb-side vending machine outside the shop.  I derive much satisfaction from the cheap meal (a bowl of plain udon is around ¥300).  I am full, warm, and ready for the day. 

Ramen shops are everywhere and there are plenty of good ones.  The prices are about the same no matter where you go.  Of the thousands and thousands of them, I happen to like Santouka (山頭火).  Its toro-niku ramen at ¥790 was very good.  Toro-niku means fatty choice pork, which turns out to be pork cheek; the slices are soft and tender.  The broth is warm instead of piping hot so that children and older people can eat the ramen easily.  However, that does not score points with many ramen connoisseurs.

  (Both Yoshinoya and Santouka are chains with branches outside Japan.  My comments are strictly for the Japanese shops.)

WEDNESDAY, 27 JUNE 2012

Wine and Japanese Restaurants

Drinking in Japan has changed a lot in the past two decades.  While shochu (a clear spirit distilled usually from sweet potatoes but also from wheat, rice, barley and even chestnut) has successfully challenged the popularity of beer and sake, wine is the latest darling.  

Wine, of course, is not new to Japan.  It was introduced to the country by the Jesuits in the 16^thcentury.  But only in recent years have traditional Japanese restaurants put wine on their drink lists.  Now you see words like “grape wine” on street banners of ordinary restaurants, such as the one I ran into in Hiroo, and you know that wine is for salary-men just as much as for the elites.

  

Wine gurus have always influenced wine trends and sales.  In the U.S., there is Robert Parker; in England Jancis Robinson.  In Japan, the most influential wine people are the brother and sister Yuko and Shin Kibayashi, real life wine and food enthusiasts with a sizable wine cellar.  They authored under the pseudonym of Tadashi Agi the tremendously popular manga series “Kami no Shizuku” (“The Drops of God” in English), a story on the search for some of the best wines of the world.  The series has been translated into various foreign languages and has boosted wine sales significantly both inside and outside Japan. 

                                                                *     *     *

One evening at Sushi-Ko Honten in Ginza, the sushi chef served a bottle of Volnay to a couple at the end of the counter.  I chatted with him when he was free.

     “I did not know that you serve wine here.  I did not see a wine list.”

     “We do not have a wine list.”

     “Then how would customers know that you serve wine, and what to order?”

     “We make recommendations.”

Oh!

He went on to tell me that the owner of Sushi-Ko had been stocking up Burgundy for twenty years, and that the restaurant had an inventory of over 10,000 bottles stored in four locations.  

     “How well does red Burgundy pair with sushi?”

     “It goes well, especially with red flesh fish.  But the wine needs to have some years on it.”  By some, he meant ten or more years.

     “I am more a white wine person.  I like Meursault.”

     “That won’t be a problem.  We have Meursault from Coche-Dury, Ente, Lafon, …”  He recited the list of who’s who of white Burgundy.

     “What pairs well with Meursault?”

     “Anago.  The acidity of the wine cuts through the fat under the skin of the fish and results in a perfect harmony.”

Then he added, “I am off tomorrow.  But if you come to lunch, I shall be here with a nice bottle of Meursault for you.”  He did not say which Meursault.  Nor did he mention the price.  He had just made his recommendation.

               

FRIDAY, 11 MAY 2012

A Bread Box

Half way into our lunch, a young cook brought a wooden box to our table.  She cautioned us, “be careful, it is hot”.  After she left, I touched the box.  It was indeed very warm.  I removed the lid.  Inside were two rolls on a piece of preheated slate.  The crust of the rolls was crispy, and the inside soft.  

 

THURSDAY, 3 MAY 2012

Oden Elevated to Great Height

The night before, we were in an exclusive bar in Gion drinking chestnut socchu.  Our hostess, a young woman with a degree in fine arts, kept us company with witty conversations.  Before we left, we asked her what would be a good place for lunch.  Seeing that she had trouble answering us (for there were many good restaurants in Kyoto), we asked her “where would you eat if it is going to be your last meal?”  Without hesitation, she said she would eat at a certain oden restaurant, and she added, “our mama-san will make a reservation at 12:30 tomorrow for you”.  I was surprised and muttered silently to myself – of all things, the cheap street food of simmering fried tofu, fish cake and daikon that salary men ate when they gathered to drink in the evening after work?

We arrived at the restaurant at 12:30 sharp.  There was a queue outside the noodle place next door, but the only sign that the oden shop was in business was the noren (welcome curtain) above its door.  Ototo popped his head in and conversed with a large man in a white cook’s uniform and came back out.  “Mama-san made a reservation for two and there is no room for the three of us”, he said.  My jaw dropped.  Wow, the place was full!  “But they will have seats for us in half an hour”, he quickly added.

The tiny restaurant had only eight seats at its “inverted L-shaped” counter.  We sat at the shorter side, overlooking the chef, his large tanks of oden, and two couples at the other side of the counter.  The woman of the older couple was wearing a kimono.  She must be an affluent lady as very few Japanese women had money and taste for kimono these days.

We followed Ototo’s suggestion to drink sake instead of socchu.  The server brought each of us an appetizer of raw fish tataki.  Then the chef, a small man with almost silver hair and fierce eyes, gave us his attention.  We could select five oden items at lunch.  Our first was an inch-thick disc of daikon topped with a ladle of beef braised in miso.  Hot mustard was put on the edge of each plate before their delivery.  As I could not eat daikon, I had a Kyoto ebi-imo instead.  My ebi-imo was six inch long, large and round at one end and skinny at the other, curving like a deep fried shrimp.  It was tender and tasty.  Even better was the beef, falling apart as I picked it up with my chopsticks.  Usually beef cooked this long tended to be tough, but not in this case.  The sweetness of miso was tempered and was in harmony with everything on the plate.

The next item was a cabbage roll larger than my fist, stuffed with chicken.  That I did not like much.  I was getting full but the chef was waiting for my next selection.  He picked out a piece of fish cake, a four inch square with thin edges and a bulged center, which he cut into four squares for me.  The surprisingly firm and bouncy texture testified to its excellent quality.  The presence of a couple of fine fish bones chopped so short that they were no bother   Earlier, I saw the woman in kimono, risking a spill, picked up her plate to drink the broth and sighed with pleasure.  I did the same thing and the chef gave me an approved look.

After a skewer of kinko nuts and a knot of konbu, I signaled no more food; I was too full to eat any more.  I have not known that oden could be so satisfying but now I know.