I'm more than a little surprised to see that there have been no posts here in almost a year and a half. Particularly in view of the fact that it is now (and has for some time, apparently) been serving a kaiseki. The Lovely Dining Companion and I visited the other night and we wanted to share a few thoughts. This won’t be an in-depth review but the meal was very good and, while we had our quibbles, we were generally pretty impressed.
We were seated early, around 5:30, but the place was already surprisingly busy on a Sunday evening. The pace of service was nearly ideal with sufficient time between courses to digest, chat, and reflect on what had come and what was yet to appear. If we had a general complaint about the meal, it would be an unusual one: too much food. Although the LDC is not renowned for her gargantuan appetite, I’ve never been shy about packing away more than sufficient quantities. She just gave up toward the end and I waddled out, barely. The courses—there are eleven, including two dessert courses—are quite varied in size. Some, like the first, were a bite; others, like the pork loin or the sukiyaki are almost half an entrée-sized portion. The deliberate pacing both helped and hurt—it helped in allowing time, as I said, to digest and relax; it hurt in that there was more than sufficient time by course seven or eight for the tummy to tell the brain, “Stop!” “Too much!”
(One quibble/request: we were given both flatware and disposable chopsticks. Both LDC and I preferred to use the chopsticks. If you are going to offer chopsticks for a meal with eleven courses lasting over two hours, it would be nice if you would provide a chopstick rest. No one expects new chopsticks with each course, so one has to have a place to rest them. Chopstick rests are traditional and one imagines that inexpensive ones exists. Even cheap ones are preferable to having nowhere to place the chopsticks between courses.)
Harumaki of Maine Lobster and Yukon Gold Potato, IkuraA terrific introduction to the meal: the lobster and the potato worked very well together, both texturally and in terms of flavor. I would not have guessed it but the potato “balanced” the dish nicely and, though it was a large single bite, it was inspired and excited us about what was to come—which is the point of the amuse anyway, right? (oh,
harumaki is Japanese for “spring roll.”)
Crudo of Baby Octopus, Hokkaido Scallop, Maine Cuttle Fish, Tobanjan VinaigretteWe both thought that the octopus was a bit past its peak. It wasn’t chewy in the way that “old” octopus would be, but it didn’t have that gentlest of resistance, that toothsomeness, that great octopus does. A step or two past perfect, but noticeable. Same with the cuttlefish. We’re not criticizing the quality but the “just past its peak” freshness. Indeed, we were both more than a bit surprised and after our initial bites looked up at each other, both thinking the exact same thing but reluctant to put it into words. Given the overall quality of the meal, we were both disappointed that the elements of this course simply weren’t what they should have been.
The “vinaigrette” is, I presume (it was not explained), chef’s play on a core ingredient of Szechwan cooking:
douban jian—a hot chili paste. This vinaigrette (it reappeared briefly again with the prawn) was nowhere near as salty or spicy as the Szechwanese original (not a bad thing), but distinctive and a somewhat off-the-beaten-track complement.
Otsukuri of Yellowtail “Hamachi,” Salmon, Alaskan Spot Prawn, Daikon, OgoPerfect fish. Notwithstanding our issues with the octopus and the cuttlefish in the immediately preceding course, the sashimi here could not have been improved upon. Positively ideal dish. (Ogo, for the less completely well-informed, myself included, is a form of edible seaweed/moss;
otsukuri means “made” as in the sashimi was “made”; it’s essentially a synonym for sashimi or a sashimi course.)
As presented to the tableI’ll admit to be quite impressed by this clever little “teapot.” The top, with its indentation holding the lime garnish is, when turned over, the small bowl from which you drink the soup. Beneath that, to ensure that the contents stay hot, a separate, lovely lid. It would be even more amazing if that served a secondary purpose as well, but taken together, I find this an esthetically impressive, simply beautiful “serving dish.”
Wanmono: Matsutake Mushrooms Dobin-Mushi, Gingko Nuts, Silky Tofu, Shrimp, SuzukiWe were surprised that this was the only truly seasonal course; kaisekis ordinarily emphasize ingredients that are in season. That fact notwithstanding, this was a light broth, not particularly rich but nevertheless quite flavorful. There was something added to it—LDC and I debated (without reaching a conclusion) what it might be—about what it might be that made this very “Japanese” for a mushroom broth. There was a unique umami flavor in the background that we both identify as a classic “tell” for Japanese cuisine. Also worthy of note was the house-made tofu; the best I’ve ever had was, interestingly enough, at L2O—when it was made in-house by Laurent Gras. This wasn’t quite at that level but it was impressive nonetheless. The gingko nuts, tofu, and shrimp were all fine (as was the suzuki—sea bass—a mild fish) but the broth and the tofu were the stars here. (Wanmono refers to the course in which the dish has a lid, traditionally meaning a broth with fish and veggies.)
Age-mono: Bad Hairday of Prawn, Kani Croquette, Chicken Age-ShumaiThe fired course: classic comfort food. Cutesy name but an excellent prawn and, as tempura, done superbly. The (crab) croquette had a little tonkatsu sauce on top (croquettes are classic street food) and this—indeed the entire course—was executed perfectly. The fried chicken shumai was a single (large) bite.
Sauteed Mugifugi Pork Loin, Shiokoji-Ginger SauceThis course was a huge disappointment. To start with, three good-sized slices of pork loin—too much. But the portion would been less of an issue if the meat—both mine and LDC’s—weren’t tough. Very tough. So tough that neither one of us finished the meat. I raised the issue with the server, who we were generally happy with. She seemed genuinely dismayed and promised to report it to the kitchen. Chef Yagihashi was there but neither he nor anyone else ever came out and, indeed, the issue disappeared as if it had never been mentioned. Extremely disappointing. (In the interest of complete reporting, that’s pickled vegetables to the left of the pork and a small hijiki “salad” to the right.)
Shabu-Shabu of monkfish and Snow CrabTwo largish slices of monkfish, two crab feelers, and a large dipping bowl of broth. (How can they use an open flame on a “bowl” made of paper?) The crab was okay, the monkfish better than that. There were also greens as accompaniments.
Sukiyaki of Ribeye, Shungiku, Yam Noodle, Yaki-TofuTwo good-sized slices of ribeye. The meat wasn’t the tenderest, notwithstanding the thinness of the pieces but then, ribeye is known for its flavor, not its texture. Shungiku is a leafy green that some say has a suggestion of chrysanthemum about it. Maybe to some; in any event, it was good, as were all the other accompaniments.
One note: I made the following comment in a review of a dinner we had last year at Sixteen: “Note to the staff: the name of the ingredient is kabocha. It’s three syllables and although it’s a Japanese word, it’s not hard to say. Get it right….” I am astonished to have to say the same thing here: it is NOT pronounced “SOO-kee-yah-kee.” Why a Japanese chef/owner would allow this (and other) common Japanese words (udon, daikon) to be mispronounced by his staff is truly astonishing (and mystifying) to us.
Kenchin Inaniwa Udon, Amish Chicken, Gobo, Yam CakeThese were house-made noodles; we asked because we were so impressed by the quality. Udon is typically made in a thicker style, but esthetic issues aside, the quality was exceptional. The broth boasted a depth of flavor and the bowl was liberally filled with chicken and various typical garnishes. (I will confess to not noticing the gobo, a disappointment to me because that happens to be an ingredient I am very fond of.) The course was excellent and the LDC, whose outer appetite limits had already been exceeded, finished the bowl. Completely.)
Coconut-Ginger Panna Cotta with Watermelon-Lime Gelee and Sesame BrittlePositively lovely. Not as light as a traditional panna cotta—which is among my less-favored desserts to begin with—but texturally perfect and the flavors matched ideally, meaning, both were identifiable without either overpowering the other or the dish itself. The sesame brittle tasted distinctively of sesame and was well-served by being a bit less “shatterable” than most brittles. I don’t know what the kitchen used to achieve the somewhat “chewier” texture (it wasn’t chewy at all, except in relation to traditional renditions of brittle) but the flavor was spot-on and a nice textural complement to the panna cotta.
An Mitsu: Citrus Agar Agar, Soba Ice Cream, Sweet Red BeansSoba = buckwheat. An intriguing notion for ice cream and, a bit to my surprise, they not only nailed the flavor (which isn’t pronounced in any event) and allowed for a well-chosen complement to the
an (adzuki beans), atop the ice cream, as well as the citrus “sauce” garnished with fresh fruit.
The eleven-course kaiseki is $100; there is also a seven-course one for $75. Pairings were $55; I opted for a single glass of sake (Rihaku, a Junmai Nigori, $13) which was served, oddly, in a little juice glass. It was quite good and complemented the meal. As others have posted on other threads, I simply can’t manage the amount of alcohol involved in a pairing and, since LDC can’t drink alcohol, I can’t even split it. So my option for the past year or more has been to choose one (or sometimes two) glasses to accompany the entire meal. It’s far easier to deal with and allows me far more time and attention to pay to one or two things.
(Parenthetical note on the drinks menu: there are five beers, all Japanese, and eleven sakes. The sakes are offered in either of two standard sizes, 300 ml or 720 ml; five of them are offered by the glass. While the offerings are not extensive, they appear to my semi-educated palate to be a well-chosen selection and prices range from inexpensive to expensive-ish (the most expensive sake is the 720 ml bottle of Dassai Goju at $86).
Comparing impressions afterward, LDC made an observation that I think, in its way, is spot on: this was like a “greatest hits” of Japanese food: sashimi, tempura, sukiyaki, udon, shabu-shabu, croquette. There’s nothing wrong with this, though it makes it less like a classic kaiseki. (One other note LDC offered: she was surprised not to be offered rice at any point in the meal. She admits that’s partially what she grew up with and so it’s partly a personal preference; however, rice is, in fact, usually considered a course (
shokuji, something served with rice) in a kaiseki because no meal is considered complete without some rice.) Indeed, given the quality of the ingredients (by and large) and the very high level of execution and presentation, it seems almost churlish to quibble. Speaking of the high level of execution and presentation, it’s probably also worth noting that these are generally not complex or intricate preparations (recognizing that that’s a relative judgment). Perhaps more important (to some), this is not challenging cuisine either in terms of its creation or its creativity. That does not mean it was not enjoyable; we were generally quite happy and would return, our decision dependent in part of what dishes are added/subtracted from the selection.
Gypsy Boy
"I am not a glutton--I am an explorer of food." (Erma Bombeck)