I love the old-school entrance to Ten-Ichi Honten, with its slatted window and guardian lions, the miniature rock-and-shrub garden, and the nostalgic monochrome photograph from the time when this was one of the grandest restaurants in town.
Ten-Ichi is one of the classic old-school tempura houses. It has stood here in the plush heart of Ginza since the 1930s, although what you see now is not much older than the 80s. And it's played host to VIPs of all persuasion, from presidents of superpowers to corporate executives, movie stars and recording artists — always with the hushed understated grace you'd expect at a high-end ryotei.
And it's much the same inside too. The staff in their formal suits or kimono; the plush seating and discreet private rooms; the unhurried service; the chefs with their bow ties; and, among the mementos of their famous customers, photos of Gorbachev, of Sinatra, of Clinton (Bill), and many more.
Oh, and the tempura is excellent — maybe not the absolute finest in town but faultess none the less.
From a piece I wrote for some magazine recently:
Back in the 1970s, before the outside world learned to love sushi, the food that most visitors to Tokyo were treated to was tempura. And the place the VIPs were taken was inevitably Ten-Ichi’s flagship restaurant in Ginza. Since 1932, it has been a benchmark for high-end tempura. The bite-sized batter-fried cuts of seafood and vegetables are cooked in front of your eyes, deftly served from wok to your plate, one delicate morsel at a time. The atmosphere at Ten-Ichi is swish but understated; the service is impeccable; and, incredibly, there is nary the slightest aroma of oil in the air.
Ten-Ichi has diluted its name by opening too many branches around the city and further afield. Albeit they are utterly reliable (which, I realise, is damning with faint paise). But the main branch — Ten-Ichi Honten — does still remain special in its old-fashioned way.
Recent Comments