tokyo food file

RIP Kanda Yabu Soba 1880-2013 [and 2014-?]

 

Tokyo has lost one of its oldest, most atmospheric culinary landmarks. 

Kanda Yabu Soba was more than just a noodle restaurant, it was a tangible connection to the city's past, to a way of living that evolved centuries back in the narrow crowded streets of Edo.

Established 133 years ago, not long after the city was renamed, its handsome old premises (rebuilt after the Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923) survived the firebombs of war and the wrecking balls of the developers. Last night, however, the timber buildings went up in flames. 

Yabu Soba didn't serve the "best" or "tastiest" soba in the city. It wasn't hip and was never a foodie hangout. Quite the opposite, in fact: it was fusty and old-fashioned, patronized mostly by senior citizens, provincial tourists and nostalgics.

But it was unique, an institution, a shrine to the humble buckwheat noodle. It was a living, breathing repository to a tradition that is now even closer to being lost to history.

My blog posts here and here are now my elegy.

 

UPDATE 1: This was the sad sight when I went down there a month or so later…

 

UPDATE 2: And this was on New Year Eve, the date when it would usually have been packed out with customers coming for their year-end toshi-koshi soba...

 

UPDATE 3: Kanda Yabu Soba is back. The newly rebuilt restaurant reopened for business on October 20 (2014). It's not the same – but how could it be?

Yabu Soba — noodles with a traditional rhythm

A spare hour or so in the mid-afternoon and I'm hungry. The lunch break is over and most restaurants have their doors shut. No worries — they stick to a more traditional rhythm at the city's classic soba houses. It's a great chance to get over to one of my all-time favourite places in Tokyo, the wonderful bucolic Kanda Yabu Soba.

 

The advantage to arriving outside of regular eating hours is that you have the pick of the seats. I like to install myself on the raised zashiki area, sitting cross-legged on the simple zabuton cushions.

 

The garden is beautiful at this time of year and, apart from a group of old boys having a leisurely boozy reunion lunch in the other part of the dining room (the section with tables and chairs), I have the place to myself.

 

To start, a small Yebisu: these small (334 ml) bottles are just perfect for the middle of the day. I love the soba-miso, a dark rich sticky savory mix containing nutty roasted buckwheat groats and specks of tangy ginger, which is served (gratis) with your drink.

 

And then a couple of ippin snacks: you can't beat the ai-yaki (slices of duck breast grilled with negi)...

 

... and then a serving of anago tempura, in classic Edomae style.

 

This is not "gourmet" soba. Yabu just serves its noodles the way it always has, hand-rolled and chopped, with no fuss or foodie pretensions. Ditto with the side dishes, they're not "fine", they're honest.

 

If I want genteel tradition I'll go down to Kyoto. What's so great about Yabu Soba is its no-nonsense Edokko character. That and the fact that it feels like it exists in a time warp, an oasis of low-rise old-time charm in a city that's already turned its back on the 20th century. 

I try to get over to Yabu Soba as often as I can — especially around the New Year (when it boasts splendid decorations) — though recently I consider myself lucky if I make it more than once a blue moon. 

For more on Yabu Soba, here's my JT column from 2003...

And here's the map link...