tokyo food file

2013: the best of the rest (illustrated version)

My column today in The Japan Times is a year-end round-up. Not necessarily the best of the year — most of those have already featured in columns over the past twelve months — but the best of the rest. Expect to see more about them in print (or on this blog) in 2014.

• starting with Kojyu — one of my meals of the year…

 

• L'Osier was the opening of the year. A three-star Tokyo legend is reborn…

 

• Takumi Shingo, the new offshoot of the legendary Sushi Sho...

 

• Ata, the hugely popular French (and English) accented grill on the fringe of Shibuya…

 

• L'Hommage, inventive French in Asakusa: great mains, such as this rack of lamb coated with kinome miso…

…and beautiful desserts.

 

• Akomeya in Ginza: more than just a great resource for Japanese foods, condiments, seasonings and high-end kitchen supplies (yes, and a rice store too)...

…it also has a nice little standing-only sake counter, as well as a simple, shokudo-style restaurant at the back.

 

• The new branch of DevilCraft brought craft beer and their trademark deep-dish pizza to the backstreets of Hamamatsucho…

 

• And Craft Beer Market Awajicho — the third branch of this excellent Japanese craft beer specialist — features stylish taps…

…and an in-house oven producing craft pizzas – this one (below) featuring spicy lamb sausage and a well-charred pie!

Stand by for a fourth CBM branch, in Mitsukoshimae, by the spring.

 

• And finally, a sad farewell to the wonderful, historic, atmospheric Yabu Soba. They're promising to rebuild, but all that's visible now is a parking lot. End of an era.

 

Fire in the wok, ramen in the bowl: black is beautiful.

 

Fire in the wok. Flavor in the bowl…

 

Gogyo kogashi miso ramen. Black is beautiful. Tasty, warming and filling too.

Kogashi means burnt. Literally. Oil and garlic are ignited in the wok, filling the kitchen with fire and billowing smoke. This is done for each order, which means that at the peak of the meal times, you see these explosions happening every couple of minutes. You won't find ramen more dramatic than this.

There are three Gogyo restaurants: two in Tokyo, in Nishi-Azabu and Yoyogi-Uehara; and one in Kyoto (which is where these photos were taken). 

It's located in a converted wooden townhouse, just around a corner from the Nishiki Market street. It has a small counter where you get to sit back (in simple comfortable armchairs) and watch the show in the kitchen. There's also a nice quiet dining room further back, and tatami seating upstairs. Plus a small hidden bar even further back, housed in the old kura warehouse, accessed through a small entrance, if you want to linger in the evening.

BTW: Gogyo also serves a pretty good tonkotsu ramen. But it's just not what you go there for.

Here's the Gogyo website…

Here's a better map link for Gogyo Kyoto…

And here's a map link for the Nishi-Azabu branch.

 

Recognized by UNESCO: the stars of washoku

 

So it's official: washoku is now a very tangible, edible, delectable UNESCO Intangible World Heritage — just as I previewed in my Food Matters piece in the Japan Times last Friday [Quality rises above the menu scandals].

Hopefully this will lead to a massive surge in interest — and justifiable pride — in Japan's traditional cuisine, not only at the highest levels of kaiseki but all the way down to the daily shokuji meals served up in ordinary restaurants and people's homes.

So where to go in Tokyo to taste washoku at its very finest? In terms of depth of flavor, quality ingredients and gorgeous presentation, you could not do better than to book yourself into Kojyu. 

That was where the photo that accompanied my JT piece was taken. And that is good enough reason for me to revisit the superb meal we had there earlier this year. The images (and their captions) speak for themselves… 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Caveats and comparisons:

When Chef Okuda moved Kojyu out of the old premises last year and into the same building as his second restaurant (Ginza Okuda), it was a move up in the world in every sense: up to the 4th floor — in the old location it was on the ground floor — and into slicker, sleeker premises. That's just the kind of atmosphere that the well-endowed (I mean moneywise, of course) Ginza crowd like.

Whether or not that is your thing, Okuda's cuisine remains outstanding, technically faultless and breathlessly refined. However, a few words of caution for anyone who is not used to breathing the rarefied air at that altitude of high-end kaiseki — and to rubbing elbows (though only metaphorically at that plush, spacious counter) with the kind of people who inhabit those stratas: My advice would be to instead start with the excellent and rather more approachable Ginza Okuda. 

 

And here's the man himself, Chef Okuda, behind the scenes in his kitchen — and yes, that was me alongside him...

 

For more top writing about the UNESCO heritage listing and its impact, check out Matt Goulding's recent piece in Roads & Kingdoms.

The 2014 Michelin Guide to Tokyo/Yokohama/Shonan was announced on Tuesday and the book itself went on sale today (Friday Dec.6). Kojyu, as expected, has retained its three-star status.

Atago nashi — giant pears from Okayama

With the winter solstice closing in fast, I thought we were well past the season for nashi pears. That was, until one of my colleagues arrived with a couple of large boxes sent up from her hometown...

  

 

These are Atago nashi from Okayama, and they're definitely special. First because they come into season in December, long after the nashi of early autumn. Since they are aimed at the oseibo year-end / New Year gift market, they come carefully wrapped in individual packaging…

 

But what really gives them extra cachet is their heft. A standard nashi tends to be about the size of an apple — a large Delicious, say. But these Atago nashi are huge, as big as a grapefruit or a small pomelo.

You can't really tell from my photos, but they're about 20 cm across and these specimens clocked in at just under a kilo each. You get a better idea from these sites: here… and (even more impressive) here…

 

Atago nashi are a hybrid of two popular varieties, the Nijusseiki ("20th century") and Imamura-aki. The folks in Okayama say it's a natural hybrid — and it's true that these are not GM — but they're certainly the product of some intense arboriculture.

 

And they certainly taste great — juicy and not too sweet, with a nice acidity. Thanks, Miyahara-san!

Sweet snacking for fall foliage viewing

Autumn's last hurrah in Tokyo — and Aoyama's "Ginkgo Avenue" is aglow.

 

Because the trees are past their peak, the pavements aren't too crowded now. But I'm certainly not alone there: this short, ceremonial avenue, which leads from Aoyama-dori to the Meiji Memorial Picture Gallery, is one of Tokyo's most popular sights in the fall. 

While most people out there have their cameras pointed at the trees, a few of us — especially the children — prefer to look at what's underfoot.

 

Some people bring their kids; others their dogs.

 

Of course a snack is called for, to help with the appreciation of nature's colours. This is the stall that catches my eye, selling roasted sweet potatoes (from ¥500).

 

Or, more specifically, they are selling a type called annou-imo, which are grown on Tanegashima, an island to the south of Kyushu (it's part of Kagoshima, and better known as the base for Japan's space program).

 

They're roasted till their skins are nice and crisp, almost charred in places, and the golden-yellow flesh inside is delectably soft and sweet. And hot enough that they warm your fingers nicely as you hold them.

 

"Melting natural sweetness" says the sign. And that's not far from the truth.

 

This is not the first time I've posted about ginkgo foliage viewing at this scenic spot. More images from past years here… and here…

 

* Factoid about ginkgo trees and their fuit/nuts: the Japanese word for the trees is ichō [いちょう]; and the nuts are called ginnan [ぎんなん]. The name of the tree comes from the Chinese characters 鴨脚 meaning "duck foot" — obviously from the shape of the leaf. The name of the fruit comes from the alternative (and more usual) characters 銀杏, which can be read as gin (= silver) + an (= apricot). It is thought that the name in English comes from a variant reading of this second character, which can also be read as kyo.

There's a great discussion of this issue on Brian Chandler's excellent blog, The Imaginatorium here…