Shichi Jyu Ni Kou — as featured in my latest Japan Times column — occupies the basement of a newly opened low-rise apartment building, just a block or so off the Roppongi main drag.
The architecture may be modern, but the wall of rustic packed mud that faces the stairs leading down to the entrance makes it clear: this is a place that embraces the principles of wabisabi.
The interior, too, is a contemporary take on traditional aesthetics, very simple and staid, using natural materials of excellent quality, with plenty of plain unadorned wood and discreet lighting, private rooms fitted with tatami mats, low tables and very little else...
...and, to one side, a long wide cedarwood counter long enough to accommodate 10 diners with generous elbowroom.
Our first dish: hamo eel, a summer specialty of Kyoto, served with shiradatsu, the blanched stems of sato-imo yams, topped with a superb agar-based clear gelee of tomato juice and garnished with red kukonomi wolfberries. Chilled and slightly tart, it was as refreshing as it was beautiful, the perfect way to coax our appetites into action.
Next, a suimono clear soup in lacquerware bowls. Bathed in the steaming savoury dashi stock were morsels of suzuki (sea bass) and soft nama-fu (gluten cake), freshly made with sweet corn, a highly unusual preparation. As counterpoints of color and flavor, a whole young pea pod, a sprinkle of fine-chopped myoga and a single aromatic yuzu blossom.
As sashimi: individual servings of (from the right) ara, a rare and delicate white-meat fish from Kanazawa; aori-ika squid in fine slivers; and meji-maguro, delicate young tuna. As dips: soy sauce (naturally brewed and aged); and also light, fragrant irizake, made by cooking down sake with umeboshi (salt-pickled ume) and toasted kombu.
The next course was that remarkable temaki-zushi on its black lacquer spoon. Here's Chef Saito's second-in-command working on an order for a party in one of the private rooms...
As ryoricho (head chef), Saito himself is not so hands-on. He keeps an eye on what the younger chefs are up to, and applies the finishing touches to plates going out to customers sitting at the counter.
But when he does take one of his impressive knives from the rack on the alcove at the back, then it's time to sit up and take notice. Halfway through our meal, when Saito began preparing a hamo, all the kitchen staff came out to watch him in action.
Preparing hamo is one of the most complex cutting skills, since the eel contain thousands of little bones that have to be severed at intervals of little more than a millimeter — but without cutting through the skin. A masterclass in knife work.
The yakimono course: mebaru (rock fish); chunks of chicken that had been marinated in Kyoto miso, giving them a rich, smoky flavor; and a large conical tsubugai whelk. Served with a small wedge of sudachi citron, these were all very delectable.
One final course before our rice and soup: takiawase, colorful cuts of vegetable, simply simmered and served unadorned, to showcase their depth of flavor. Food doesn't get much simpler or more profound than this.
The rice was served directly from the ceramic pot in which it had been cooked. We had the standard-issue white rice — though it tasted far from ordinary — but they'll prepare brown rice for you if you order in advance.
To round off a highly satisfying, uplifting meal, we were served an-mitsu, a traditional dessert that Saito has updated and re-created by including ice cream made from soy milk and sake-kasu, topped with a jade-green deeply bitter-sweet matcha tea syrup.
As mentioned in my column, the name Shichi Jyu Ni Kou literally means "72 seasons", but implies constant change. We will be looking forward to going back to see what Chef Saito has to offer later in the year.
