いらっしゃい!
...an expat denizen of Tokyo with a penchant for sparkly dining partners, jazz bars and izakaya.
Opinions here expressed are not necessarily shared by any with whom I associate. Fault for errors and any offense caused is entirely my own.
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Sunday
Aug222010

Iseya, Kichijoji  いせや、吉祥寺

Kichijoji’s Iseya is not only a yakitori classic, but also a Tokyo classic. Well loved, well known and much frequented it is, however, not all that it is purported to be.

Located at the top the flight of stone steps leading down into the leafy confines of Inokashira Park, opposite Toriyoshi and Gin no Saru (two other izakaya worthy of mention for their popularity if nothing else), Iseya Sohonten (the other recently sanitized and thus ruined iteration is nearby, somewhat closer to the station) billows smoke into the street by dint of the charcoal grills at the front of the shop churning out mountains of yakiton (skewered pork innards) for queues of expectant, hungry customers.

This yakitori-ya’s reputation precedes it. After all, it has been in business since 1928, first as a butcher’s shop and then from 1958 as a yakitori-ya, as the building and interior bare testament to. It’s dilapidated, dirty (just visit the toilets!), smokey and immensely “old skool.” Those that reside in these blessed isles, and those that live in Tokyo more so, and those that have a thing for “traditional izakaya” even more so, love this kind of decrepit hangover from “better days,” when Japan was more Japanese and Japanese cuisine, and thus izakaya more generally, had yet to be tainted by the culinary incursions of colonialists and “ethnic” dishes from the mysterious regions of Asia.

Admittedly, the old-style, basic aspect of the shop brings to mind a simpler, somehow more authentic, working-class dining experience. You can almost imagine occupation-era U.S. military types and pan-pan girls negotiating a night’s intimacy through the choking smog of smoking chicken fat. Don’t get me wrong; it’s all good stuff. Great fun. It’s just not what it’s cracked up to be. Very much a case of the Emperor’s new clothes.

The interior is all creaky floors, warped beams and stained, curling posters and menu slips. Service is to the point, hurried and for the most part amicable. Generally always heaving, you can book in advance, the atmosphere is lively, even raucous. Old-timers perch at the counter enveloped in smoke, while everyone else enjoys whatever bench they are awarded.

Drinks are limited. Beer, unnamed instantly forgettable sake, shochu (accompanied by plum syrup served in old whiskey bottles) and sours etc. The food menu is basic, mostly yakitori standards and other skewered morsels (read offal) derived from the carcasses of pigs. The sashimi is best avoided, as I hope you would expect.

And it is the food, not the whole point perhaps but still an important factor, that enjoys near mythical and utterly unjustified renown. It is, at best, passable. Sure, it’s cheap. Tastes okay, or at least doesn’t induce nausea. But is surpassed in both quality and quantity by a myriad of other yakitori-ya. Some dishes, the liver in particular, are especially bad. Presentation isn’t even considered, and is not made up for by the flavour. The stand out dish is easily the handmade gyoza, which for a shop famed for its skewered chicken and pork nankotsu is almost shameful.

Jimmy Dean had this to say about Iseya, while Marxy helps perpetuate the myth here.

Still, it is fun. A glimpse and, more than likely, a real taste of the past. A past before Michelin stars and restaurants aimed at monied expats. Go for the atmosphere, go for the surroundings, just don’t expect to go back for the food.

 

Tel: 0422-43-2806

Sunday
Aug152010

Denbe Kura, Ebisu  伝兵衛蔵、恵比寿

Kyushu ryori is a favourite. The combination of the usual subtle Japanese flavours with stronger ones makes for nice change now and then. The chance for some horsemeat should never be missed either.

Denbe Kura, an izakaya specialising in the cuisine of Kyushu surrounded by love hotels and Indian restaurants just a couple of minutes from the west exit of Ebisu station, provides a pleasant atmosphere, good food and slow service. The basashi, while being far superior to that on offer at Nakano’s Tabaruzaka, is not quite of the same standard as that at Bakuro, another splendid izakaya in Ebisu specialising in horsemeat.

Overall, Denbe Kura is far better than its surroundings might suggest. The interior is suitably dark and intimate, heavy wooden beams and equally solid looking rough-hewn tables dominate the dining area, while along the left of the space a long polished counter lined with colourful shochu bottles looks on to the open kitchen. Another feature of the counter are the little dishes bearing a rabbit motif set into the concrete below the counter shelf. Cute.

My dining partner and I arrived just before 7:45pm, without a reservation, and managed to secure a place at the counter. By 8pm, people were being turned away at the door. The crowd was fairly lively, trending toward those in their middle age rather than a younger cohort. The service, although polite, was painfully slow, especially in terms of the delivery of drinks. At least twice the staff forgot my order entirely. Despite this, all was not lost as the food went a good way to making up for the tardiness of the service.

Enjoying the long-awaited beer, the meal itself kicked off with an o-toshi of ganumo doki, fried tofu with pickled aubergine. Small, tasty, but perhaps a little plain, as fried tofu is wont to be. The menu is generally quite interesting, with plenty of Kyushu favourites to be had. Shochu also takes centre stage, and being that I know nothing about it, except that it makes my head hurt, I relied on the waiting staffs’ recommendations. First of all I had the Umi, which was described as being “easy to drink and not rough.” It came, after what seemed like an eternity, in a luscious looking blue bottle. Served on the rocks, it was certainly refreshing, and indeed was actually quite drinkable.

I couldn’t resist the Kyushu meibutsu moriawase (selection of Kyushu specialities), which turned out to be a large plate of assorted Satsuma-agetakanazuke, karashi renkon, mentaiko, kininabo and tsukiami – tastefully arranged. The karashi renkon was excellent, being perfectly crunchy and the mustard very hot. The mentaiko was of course hateful, although the kibinabo (little fish on skewers) were wonderfully chewy and flavoursome. In all, this was a nice dish, it certainly looked nice, although I would have been happier if there had been a bit more of it.

The basashi was good. Opting for the akami, it turned out be a gorgeous deep red, cut in thick, succulent slices served with the usual sliced daikon, ginger, shiso leaves and spring onion. Some of the best basashi I’ve had in Tokyo at any rate, although I would have liked it to be served with garlic. It’s always a good idea to be “healthy,” when indulging in izakaya, so in order to tick that particular box a salad seemed in order. A very simple, dynamic (i.e. big and chunky) affair, it was nothing more than tofu, tomato and lettuce smothered in goma (sesame) dressing. Hardly exciting, but it tasted good all the same.

Some rather non-descript shochu, the Tanabata, left me no choice but to try another, the Satsuma Ogojo, which was stronger tasting, a little too much so, and resulted in my returning to beer and the promise of a splitting headache the following morning.

Returning to the menu, we decided on some Kyushu gameni, basically a selection of somewhat uninspiring nimono (simmered foods) – carrot, renkon, gobo, imo and chicken – in a tasty broth. Again, this was little on the small side, and the chicken was very, very bland. Finally, some sui-gyoza in a misty-white tonkotsu (pork) soup riddled with onion and leaks. This was great, and again left me wanting more.

Denbe Kura is a pleasant enough izakaya, and worth the visit. The food is a little hit and miss, but generally pleasing. The basashi stood out in particular. For those who like to drink, in can be a little pricey. The service is painfully slow, but the atmosphere makes up for it. Will visit again.

 

Tel: 03-3711-7100 

Saturday
Aug142010

Mitsuyadoseimen, Shimo-Kitazawa ミッ矢堂製麺,下北沢

Following the sad discovery of the Frisco Grill’s demise, I wandered the streets of Shimo-Kitazawa forlorn. Sure, I was pissed off that the burger I wanted to eat was beyond my reach, but I was also gagging for a beer. And that only made me think of Masako, and how cruel the world, well Japanese train operators/construction companies, can be.

Anyway, before too long I passed a tsukemen place, and as it was packed I figured it must either be really cheap, pretty good, or perhaps a bit of both. So it was that I ended up having cold noodles dipped in a soup of my choice at Mitsuya-Doseimen.

It’s a chain, something to do with the Mitsuya people that make “cider,” I guess. Simple shop, clean, wood floors and plain walls adorned with beer posters. No smoking before 5pm, plenty of old folk and families slurping their noodles. Fairly wide range of dishes on offer, but I was hungry and in no mood for deliberation. The spicy looking tan-tan goma (sesame) tsukemen looked good.

And so it was. ¥980 for a well proportioned bowl (although the price is set, you can opt for a small, medium or large portion) of cold, firm, slightly flat noodles topped with onion and some kind of leaf. This was accompanied by a bowl of orange, spicy Thai tan-tan-like soup, laced with good clean bits of chicken. It was just spicy enough to please, without overpowering the taste of the noodles themselves. Beer was overpriced.

I don’t know much about noodles, certainly not as much as this Cowboy, but I came away full and happy, despite having worn a paper bib…

 

Tel: 03-5790-8038

Saturday
Aug142010

Frisco Charcoal Grill, Shimo-Kitazawa  下北沢

Frisco Charcoal Grill was a wonderful little hole in the wall burger joint in Shimo-Kitazawa. A friend introduced me to the Frisco Grill, enticing me with tales of freshly made, lovingly crafted burgers and an interesting chef. His description was spot on.

Almost impossible to locate unless you were in the know, the Frisco Grill was hidden away at the end of a narrow alley loomed over by dilapidated buildings, its entrance unassuming. The tiny interior too – white walls, black stools and a basic kitchen dominated by a large grill – was unassuming too. The only real decoration were a few framed photos of San Francisco scenes, and newspaper cuttings and reviews about the shop, such was its fame.

The story behind the place was simple yet charming, very much like the menu. The owner-chef, “Mike” had spent around 40 years in the U.S. working in sales. Finally, once his kids had been put through college, he decided to return to Japan and fulfil his dream – to open a burger bar serving good to honest “real” American burgers. I don’t know if they were exactly like “real” American burgers, but they were very good. Apparently, “Mike” scoured the land for a bakery that could make bread rolls (buns, baps, cobs, whatever you choose to call them…) to his liking, and had fresh Australian beef delivered from which he made the burgers. He made a set amount each day, and when all sold, he shut up shop.

The Frisco Grill was tiny; probably no more than seven or eight diners could be accommodated at any one time. The menu was very simple, a few options of toppings – lettuce, cheese, gherkins, tomato, onion, mustard etc, etc. – and stacks of pates, and some lunch sets providing variations on the basic burger together with crinkle cut fries and a soft drink. Draft beer was available too. Certainly the choice on offer was severely limited when compared to the plethora of exciting, even outlandish, variations on the burger between bread that places such as Giggle provide. But that was the point, or so I like to believe.

The bread tasted fresh and bready. Not dry, and robust enough so as not to become floppy once encasing a perfectly grilled, meaty burger. Neither too thin nor too thick the meat itself was free of gristle or otherwise unidentifiable chewy bits, and tasted like real food. Not processed, frozen or warmed up from the day before. The lettuce, tomato and cheese were standard, but again fresh. Nothing more or less than they should be. The fries, crisp, not oily and actually surprisingly potatoey were rather good too. I’ll say it again; really simple, really fresh, really well made and really, really tasty.

So it was that when I headed there for lunch today I was dismayed to find the Frisco Grill is no more. At first I though I’d got the wrong street, maybe the wrong alley. A walked around a little, checked, asked a gypsy woman. Eventually plucking up courage, I headed down the alley, and sure enough could see the shop sign peeping from behind the plywood nailed over the entrance. Just as friends, lovers, even spouses, come and go, so too do great eateries. The Frisco Charcoal Grill is no more. Just like dear Masako, another Shimo-Kita gem is lost.

A little glum, I had no choice but to lunch elsewhere and so ended up sucking cold noodles at Mitsuya-Douseimen, before returning home. Once safely plugged back into my Mac, the Google pixies provided me with news, from this gentleman here, that the Frisco Grill closed just last month, as the building in which it was concealed is to be demolished, but will (happily) arise phoenix like once again. Certainly hope so.

 

Tel: 03-3468-5744

Friday
Aug132010

Amiyakitei, Chitose-Funabashi  あみやき亭、千歳船橋

If you happen to be in the Chitose-Funabashi area, and both Hisaya and Sazaya are closed – or even Zanpa no Kaze for that matter – you might (and it’s a BIG might) want to give Amiyakitei a try. Housed in what used to be one of those box-like Royal Host family restaurants, Amiyakitei is a roadside yakiniku-ya on Kampachi Dori, about 10 minutes from Chitose-Funabashi station. It’s big, green and has plenty of parking spaces underneath it, making it perfect for families with those big white people carriers to pull up and feed their hungry kids.

It feels pretty much like a family restaurant. Lots of tables, semi-private booths really, done in dark faux-marble with the grill set into them, and even a raised tatami area that seems popular for parties. The size of the place makes it feel somewhat uncomfortable, like being in a big factory cafeteria I suppose.

Just inside the entrance, near the drink, salad and cake bars (sounds like a Harvester doesn’t it?) are posted upon the wall certification of the meat being served that day. It gives the region from which it originates and an official tracking number, so that all may be assured that they are eating good honest Japanese cow, and not anything imported from dangerous foreign farms (no, not those in Miyazaki prefecture…) that might cause mutation – or worse – if ingested.

The service is fairly brisk, allowing the place to deal with a lot of customers. As mentioned, it’s popular with families, so there are plenty of kids and thus plenty of noise. Bizarrely, your first order must be made by filling in an order slip. You just tick the boxes and hand it to the staff. Perhaps they use this data to analyse customers’ preferences. From what saw, most have a preference for the all-you-can-eat salad bar, complimented by several plates of oily, fatty meat, and followed up by several visits to the all-you-can-eat cake bar.

The menu provides the usual yakiniku staples as wells as plated of vegetables and rice dishes such as bibimba. Each table is provided with a dizzying array of dipping sauces and condiments, along with helpful instructions on which sauces go best with different cuts of meat, and how best to mix them. I suppose this says something about the declining knowledge of national food culture among younger generations…

When I visited, back in October of last year, the place had only recently opened and as such they were throwing away promotions with reckless abandon. I ended up with a voucher entitling me to a full-sized bottle of shochu, Satsuma Kobiki, on my second visit. Not particularly good, but free is not a bad thing either.

The salad bar offers up lettuce, daikon, seaweed, sweet corn, potato salad, egg salad, tomato, cucumbers and some fruit, such as pineapple. All, except the fruit, were a little too vinegary. It’s tabehodai, although they politely request you eat all that your pile your plate with, so as not to cause waste.

Prices are reasonable, although to my mind the cuts of meat were on the small side. At the time, I felt Amiyakitei didn’t compare favourably with Genkaya, but in recent months even that once splendid yakiniku-ya seems to be trying to increase profits by serving less.

And what of the meat? The tongue was bland, and even the lemon juice failed to bring out any flavour. The sanchu, big green leaves in which to wrap your freshly grilled meat, were not the freshest I’ve seen, although there was plenty of it. The rosu and karabi were both adequate, but too oily. The salmon onigiri were very salty, and no better than those bought from a convenience store. The cake bar, offered “cute” little cubes of cheesecake, and other flavours such as chocolate and strawberry.

Not the best yakiniku I’ve had, but then again not the worst either. Not in any rush to go back.

 

Tel:03-5799-2929

Tuesday
Aug102010

Shrimp & Oyster Bar, Akasaka  赤坂

Escaping the hot, sticky confines of the office resulted in my wandering the even hotter, stickier streets of Shibuya with a couple of hours to kill before meeting Tokyoeater for a spot of dinner. Not much wandering took place and I arrived at Akasaka far too early. As luck would have it, the “resto” my dining partner for the evening had chosen happened to be housed in the same building, the Atrium section next to the Akasaka Biz Tower, as the Delirium Café, a Belgian beer bar that I’d visited last year and completely forgotten about. A bottle or two of Piraat and a few chapters of the iBooks edition of The Adventures of Sherlock Homes (“what the deuce!”) and it was time to visit the Shrimp and Oyster Bar for the evening. 

The relatively plain exterior of the restaurant did not belie greater ostentation within. Very simple, basic even, making it feel more like a cafeteria or diner. The tables were a little on the small side, too, which would turn out to be something of problem.

Guided to the narrow confines of our table, beers were swiftly ordered and an appetizer of chives cream cheese and crackers supplied. Not the best of starts. As is so often the case when two bulls get together, talk was the order of the evening, and in part the quaffing of beer to quell the thirst bequeathed by the hottest Tokyo summer in a decade (or so it’s said), and so it took a while for us to get around to the menu.

As luck would have it, the cover of said menu promoted a set course offering a range of dishes including oysters and several shrimp-based delights. Truth be told, “delights” it too positive a description. Not that the food was bad, it just didn't excite or justify the price. The oysters, served on ice with a couple topped with tomato, feta and basil, were small, and rather lacklustre. A pile of lettuce, black olive, scrambled egg, cheese and ham salad – drizzled in something like the much-maligned Thousand Island dressing, followed. Already there was something of the chain izakaya about the food here. 

Chilled white wine, name escapes me but something to do with oysters, took the edge off the food, and barely touched my dining partner’s lips from what I can recall (sorry…). The waiting staff leave the wine on the bar opposite your table, and attentively poor whenever your glass is near empty. Unfortunately, they pay no attention whatsoever to the pace at which your companion’s glass is being emptied (or not as the case may be). While on the subject of pace, let it be said that the food crashed upon our tawdry board like a tsunami. Before we knew it, there was no space left to set the dishes, and engaged as we were in talk – and as I was in the bottle – we failed utterly to consume at the speed apparently expected. Even after our protestations, it continued in relentless fashion.

A salad, Mediterranean in style, consisting of red and yellow peppers, onions, basil, octopus and shrimp was swiftly followed by deep fried shrimp served with shredded cabbage, bulldog sauce and mayonnaise.  Oddly enough, this utterly “izakaya basic” turned out to be the tastiest part of the meal. Says it all, doesn’t it?

There followed some more shrimp (prawns?) in an oily balsamic soak, complimented by dry bread, a woefully small and thin tasting lasagne and a couple of other dishes I’m sure, though I have neither photograph nor recollection.

The service was okay, polite and increasingly friendly once the waitress revealed her hidden English speaking talents and impending visit to the U.K. Not quite sure I needed to be cornered by her outside the men’s room for a chat every time I visited though…

 

Tel: 03-3568-3787

Thursday
Jul292010

Hanbei, Shibuya  半兵ヱ、渋谷

Hanbei is Disneyland. Or at least, probably what Disneyland would do if they had a Showa-land “attraction,” only without the endless queues of people having “fun.”

My esteemed colleague, the very same who introduced me to the delights of Lad’s Dining, recommended Hanbei (funny, I assume it’s the close proximity of Lad’s Bunny Bar that led him to stumble upon Hanbei…) as it was cheap, fun and “old-style.” And so it is.

Situated behind and to the right of Mark City, not far from the Keio Inokashira line entrance and that famous yakitori place that always has smoke billowing from it, it’s fairly easy to find thanks to the old yellow backlit street sign at the top of the stairs leading down to this basement izakaya. Prices and food are basement too.

The interior is jam packed with old posters – film, TV, consumer products etc. – and nice old metal (tin?) advertising plates for soft drinks, medicines and stores. Showa era toys and robots adorn the place here and there while all the while once-famous songs (rather military sounding at times) fill the air. It’s colourful and actually rather entertaining.

Clientele-wise, there’s a good mix of young couples, students, giggly semi-legal girls and chain smoking salarymen. Thus, it’s also pretty lively most of the time, but in a fun, “don’t need to care about those around you” way. The service can be good if you get the floor staff, and a little slow and surly if you request anything from the kitchen staff populating the semi-open kitchen that dominates the room.

As I said, it’s cheap. Very cheap. Certainly not as expensive as this place. While this is great as far as beer, kaku-highball and Hoppi goes, it has a decidedly negative impact on the food.

Put simply, the “cuisine” on offer is miniscule, and of a lesser quality than that served up at holes such as Watami. The o-shinko moriawase usually provides a limp selection of cucumber, red cabbage, takuan and/or daikon, three pieces of each if you are a party of three, and four if you’re a party of… The octopus tempura wasn’t that bad, sure it’s oily and limp, but also strangely compelling after a dozen drinks or so. The chicken karaage come with a sparkler and tiny cocktail Hinomaru Japanese flag thrust in them. Need I say more?

The okonomiyaki, which cost around ¥300 is resoundingly poor. I regret to announce that this sorry affair turned out to be my esteemed colleague’s introduction to the dish. Same goes for the yakisoba too. Really, really bad. The kushi and yakitori are also very small, but then they cost no more than a ¥100 a stick. Probably the best I’ve had over several visits (I’m glutton for punishment, okay) were the onigiri. But then, how easy can it be to utterly ruin those?

Okay, the food is rough, and it’s Showa-land, but the drinks are cheap and on both visits I’ve laughed until I cried, thanks to my dining partners. For a cheap drink, with some gut-lining nibbles it’ll do. Just.

 

Tel: 03-3464-0775