Some people might find Narutomi a bit too stark and functional. There's no decoration to speak of, just the counter overlooking the pristine, shiny kitchen...
And nothing at all in the main dining area: just the tables and stools, a few coat hangers and those lampshades overhead...
So after you have sipped your sake and nibbled your snacks, it all comes down to the noodles. And the tempura. Both are excellent indeed.
This is the hotate-ten: a single sashimi-quality scallop lightly cooked whole and sliced into two: the interior is still firm and rare, the outside tender and white, encased in a thin light layer of batter... It comes with a selection of vegetables. Highly recommended.
But so is the gobo-ten — burdock cut into chunky strips with plenty of fibrous texture. Just sprinkle with a little of the sea salt. This one is intended to go with sake, rather than soba.
And then there are the seasonal specials. Currently it's shirako (milt) of fugu pufferfish. But soon there will be spring sansai wild herbs and takenoko bamboo shoots to look forward to.
Don't get the wrong idea: the soba is certainly not an afterthought. It's just that you don't order it until you're done with your nibbling and sipping. Narutomi-san prepares it from scratch, grinding and sifting the grain, then making the dough, rolling it out and cutting it into delicate noodles.
Most people go for the cold seiro soba, served with a dip on the side — with a few shreds of fine-sliced negi and a dab of wasabi the only extra seasoning. It's all you need, though: this is soba with plenty of buckwheat flavour.
Narutomi-san is is just as happy to serve hot kake soba — in a rich, warming broth. Needless to say he is as perfectionist about this as everything else on the menu. He's even printed up a little information card* placed on the table, in which he explains the absolute optimum temperature for kake-soba. Which is 85-86 degrees C.
If after this you're still a bit hungry, put in an order for some soba-gaki. Narutomi-san whips up his gaki nice and light, smooth and creamy, topped with a cone of fresh grated wasabi. Delicate. Subtle. Earthy. Piquant. Deep.
And finally a jug of soba-yu, thick and milky-white, so good: there's no better way to round off the meal.
And, because the address, phone number and website are currently missing from the Japan Times online version of my column, here are the details:
Narutomi
8-18-6 Ginza, Chuo-ku, Tokyo
(03) 5565-0055
Open: Mon-Fri 11:30 a.m.-2:30 p.m. (LO) & 6-8:45 p.m. (LO); Sat 11:30 a.m.-3 p.m.; closed Sun, holidays & 3rd Sat.
* Narutomi-san has not been a soba artisan all his life; in fact, for two decades he worked in publishing, which may account for his sense of design — not just the restaurant but also his web site — and the informative leaflets he displays on the tables.
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