Today is 土用の丑の日 (doyo no ushi no hi), the Day of the Ox that falls in the doyo season (approximately equivalent to the "dog days" of summer). Which for all practical purposes has come to mean unagi no hi — the day for eating broiled eel.
To mark the occasion, here are a few pics of a recent lunch at Nodaiwa, one of Tokyo's finest traditional eel restaurants.
At the outset, to go with that oh-so-welcome thirst-quenching glass of beer, a couple of tidbits...
A refreshing vinegared aspic (nikogori) of broiled eel. Dainty, light and perfect for whetting the appetite.
The next course arrives inside a silver-metal tray topped with a gleaming black lacquerware lid...
It is unagi shirayaki (literally "white-grilled"): the fillet of eel has been steamed then carefully grilled over charcoal till it is very lightly browned. Soft and moist, it only needs the lightest of seasonings. A scattering of salt, perhaps; or just lightly dipped in shoyu with a dab of freshly grated wasabi root. It's very simple, but when it's prepared well (as it always is at Nodaiwa), shirayaki is sublime.
And then on to the main course: unaju. Eel broiled and basted, then served over a bed of rice inside a handsome lacquerware box.
It comes with pickles on the side, plus a bowl of kimo-jiru ("liver soup"), a savory suimono clear broth containing a single long eel liver and a couple of leaves of fragrant mitsuba herb. Unusually, Nodaiwa also serves a scoop of daikon oroshi (grated daikon root), which helps counterbalance the rich fattiness of the unagi.
What makes the eel so good here is not just the care devoted to the grilling process, but the fact that whenever possible, Nodaiwa uses eels caught from the wild, not the blander farmed fish used by most other unagi restaurants. Here's a close-up...
The final course is a slice of fruit: in summer that's likely to be watermelon...
Nodaiwa is not just traditional — it's been here for over 150 years and the current owner is the 5th generation of his family to run the business and his son, the 6th generation is alongside him in the kitchen — it's also one of the most refined unagiya in town. The core of the building is a converted minka (traditional timber house) that was brought down from Hida Takayama when the premises were rebuilt in the 1970s.
Inside, you sit under carefully polished 200-year old beams and pillars, on seats upholstered with maroon velvet, waited on by ladies in kimono.
It really is one of Tokyo's all-time classics.
Another aspect that distinguishes this place from the rest. Every year, when doyo no ushi no hi rolls around, Nodaiwa stays closed. That's because it refuses to compromise on quality: it knows it will not be able to cope with the frenzy of demand.
Here's a column on Nodaiwa I wrote (back in 2002) for the Japan Times...
And here's the map link...
