tokyo food file

code kurkku: Kyoto-Italian in Yoyogi Village

Arriving at code kurkku in the evening, through the cluster of converted freight containers that constitute Yoyogi Village, is pretty memorable, with that living wall of vegetation glowing through the massive picture window.

It's very easy on the eye in the daytime too...

The lobby leads past the gleaming open kitchen, with the chefs in their well-worn white baseball caps...

The dining room has a nice simple spacious feel, the height of the ceiling moderated by the random clusters of lights hanging overhead.

As I wrote in my Japan Times column last week, we had the upper of the two set lunch menus (¥5,000), which started with this excellent "cigar" of anago wrapped in filo pastry and deep-fried till crisp. This was draped over a fragrant asari-jiru, a clear broth derived from clams, containing plenty of mitsuba herb and a soft, freshly poached egg prepared in onsen tamago style. That's sansho scattered around the rim of the bowl, lending its distinctive aromatic presence without dominating the flavors in the mouth.

The antipasto was buri yellowtail, the slices lightly seared in tataki style, just enough to whiten their exterior but still sashimi-rare inside. These were paired with thin slices of apple and a small mound of mustard leaf salad topped with a white foam (also with a faint apple perfume), and served on a delectable sauce of grated raw apple mixed with daikon oroshi (from tangy karami-daikon), further spiced up with red peppercorns.

Spaghettini tossed with spring nanohana greens and plump, pink ama-ebi shrimps so lightly cooked they were almost raw, it was scattered with bright yellow bottarga and just a hint of tōgarashi chili. Bursting with understated flavor, this more than anything else on the menu gives meaning to the term Kyoto-Italian cuisine.

The main course: fricassee of Iwate free-range jidori, rolled and pan-fried, then finally seared in the oven over sumi charcoal to give it a lovely golden skin. Carefully arranged on the plate with a colorful selection of vegetables — potato, button mushrooms, yellow squash, Brussels sprout leaves and scarlet kyō-ninjin carrots — it came with a swoosh of pureed broccoli and a creamy vegetable-based sauce that was remarkably rich and satisfying for something containing no butter or dairy.

Dessert (hers): matcha tiramisu, with hojicha ice cream.

Dessert (his): panna cotta packed with espresso, sozzled with a dark, boozy caramel sauce and topped with a simple milk gelato.

The verdict: excellent. and a beautiful example of the evolving genre that has come to be called Kyoto-Italian. Just as we had expected, given the involvement (as executive chef) of Yasuhiro Sasajima of Il Ghiottone fame. Not quite up there on the same level as at his main Kyoto restaurant, but certainly as fine and inventive (and beautiful) as when we ate at Il Ghiottone Cucineria, Sasajima's more casual second restaurant.

OK, the view from the dining room is not as spectacular — Cucineria sits on the bank of the Kamogawa river in Kyoto. But screen out the looming Docomo high-rise and that exotic garden is still quite something for Tokyo.

In fact, illuminated at night, it's quite atmospheric.

I wrote up the original kurkku kitchen restaurant when it first opened. I haven't been back for a couple of years now, but I still hear great reports, especially of the café.

The web site for Yoyogi VIllage/code kurkku is here...

chinmi and nihonshu

Keeping it simple is always the best strategy, especially when the sake is good. This was more than good, it was classic...

A small saucer of hotate scallops (our otoshi starter). A bowl of crunchy, tangy, smoky iburigakko (smoked takuan pickle, a specialtty of Akita). And a brimming glass of junmai ginjo from Kaze-no-Mori (from Nara).

  

temaki-zushi at Shichi Jyu Ni Kou

This was the fourth course of our lunch at Shichi Jyu Ni Kou and in some ways the most memorable. The rice, long grain akamai (though only barely flecked with red), was lightly vinegared and formed into an oblong block. It arrived carefully positioned on the spoon of black lacquer, topped with freshly shucked tsubugai whelks...

The instructions were simple. Carefully ease the rice onto the square of toasted nori seaweed...

Then gently fold the nori sheet to enfold the rice and shellfish, to convey it to your mouth. It was only a couple of bites, but it has lingered in the memory because it was very different to anything I ever recall being served at a sushiya...

Finally, here's a shot from closer-up — not so much to show the spoon (lovely and gleaming as it was) than the block it was resting on, which was carved freshly out of a piece of daikon.

More photos of the meal to follow later today...

shokkan — the rest of the story

Or perhaps I should say: the rest of the pictures. There are plenty of other photos that didn't make it into my Friday column. It's a visual place, not by dint of the decor but the opposite: It's sparse and simple but there's always plenty going on in the kitchen. Plus there's plenty of colour on the plates.

The entrance is suitably inscrutable: A flight of wood-clad stairs leading down to an unmarked door in the basement of an unremarkable building on the side of a busy highway on the outskirts of Shibuya... A vestibule of polished wood gives onto a spacious dining room so simple and spare in design it feels almost unfinished. 

Just about the only decoration is this sign on the wall with the kanji characters for "Shokkan". What's it mean? "Shoku" means "food/eat"; and "kan" is taken from the name of owner-chef Sato Kan.

The first thing you will be brought will be a plate of crudités — a colorful selection of sliced vegetables — together with an attractive red dip made by blending tomato with miso. It's a surprising combination, savory with a hint of sweetness, but one that works well. Indeed, this has become one of Shokkan's signature dishes, and you can buy pots of this tomato miso to take home with you.

The selection of vegetables was as intriguing as it was colorful: A wedge of pink aka-kabu turnip; baby cucumber; slivers of yellow bell pepper and Chinese cabbage; what looked like celery but turned out to be from the stem of an ebi-imo (taro); and, most unusually, a slice of zasai, not the pickles served with Chinese cuisine but raw, grown locally,  we were told, on the Miura Peninsula.

Our sashimi platter was as good as we'd anticipated when we'd ordered our sake. 

 

We were kept happy and intrigued in equal parts by two dishes that followed: kinkan shira-ae, sliced kumquat oranges in a creamy tofu dressing...

...and smoked scallops, which arrived at the table along with appetizing smokehouse aromas and a dip of chopped-onion "mayo."

We were less impressed with the "grilled" negi leeks. They were in fact plunged into the deep-frying wok first before being seared, leaving them far too oily to enjoy with their mushroom-flavored miso dip.

Next time, we will instead order the bamboo shoots deep-fried a delicious golden-brown, which we saw going out to those who'd ordered the full course.

We could not leave without trying the other house special. Listed under the "Clay Pot Dishes" section of the menu, it is called Paella — though few in Spain would recognize it as such. Nonetheless, the combination of rice cooked with tiny dried sakura-ebi shrimp and topped with plenty of seafood — asari clams, small mussels and generous amounts of ikura salmon roe — was a winner.

Make no mistake: This is not kaiseki cuisine. In fact, it's closer in feel to an upmarket izakaya tavern than anything at the formal end of the spectrum. If you want to give it a name, call it contemporary kappo: reliable, entry-level Japanese cuisine presented with a handsome drizzle of style.

Ambiance, food, value for money. Shokkan ticks the boxes on just about all counts... It's got the look; the food is put together well; and there's no sticker shock at the end your meal. Best of all, it's a place you can take out-of-town guests — or even send them on their own — in full confidence they will feel they've discovered somewhere rather special.

Here is Shokkan's home page...

And here is a map link...

meanwhile, back at the fishmonger's...

The persimmons are done: now it's time to dry some satsuma imo sweet potatoes. These have to be steamed, peeled and sliced, before being laid out on a woven bamboo tray — loose mesh to allow plenty of air circulation.

At the same time, he's preparing some kiriboshi (literally "cut and dried") daikon. That is just shredded raw and then left out in the cold winter air to concentrate all its nutrients.

I love this shop, especially the little display of good-luck amulets over the cutting board...

It's so tidy and organized, no wonder this fishmonger has won certificates for the cleanliness of his operation.