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

Katsu, Kichijoji かつ、吉祥寺

Following the thorough disappointment that is Shun, my Friday evening was redeemed thanks to Katsu, a small basement yakitori-ya also but a stone’s throw from the park exit of Kichijoji station.

To be honest, while I enjoyed my time there, as far as I can recall, I was so inebriated that I had not the presence of mind to make note of the delicious morsels consumed. In retrospect, however, both my dining partners and myself agree that all were of excellent quality.

A tiny establishment, consisting of a small bar, a few tables and a tiny raised tatami-floored platform, Katsu is a lively, ‘alternative’ take on the yakitori-ya, that is perhaps best described with adjective such as ‘cool’ or ‘funky’. Overall the décor, atmosphere and staff had a distinctively ‘alternative culture’ feel to them. The master of the place – see photo – is a charming well-mannered individual who attended to our needs handsomely. An excellent selection of nihonshu, again at least as far as I remember, was on offer. The food was tasty and fresh although perhaps a little too small for my tastes.

Certainly a second, more lucid, visit is in order so as to give Katsu the review it deserves. 

Shun, Kichijoji 和旬、吉祥寺

A run of the mill, somewhat over priced izakaya thirty seconds walk, toward the Marui department store, from the park exit of Kichijoji station, Shun fails to impress. Relatively large, and on the occasion of my visit noisy, at first glance I thought Shun would prove to be a cheap and cheerful izakaya that while offering nothing of note might have served some purpose as a venue for an evening’s drinking with friends. This turned out not to be the case.

Decidedly average ‘traditional izakaya’ décor, service that was not only slow but also poor when it was given and an uninspired menu were only the beginning. Being seated by a large, boisterous group of young men and women seemingly intent upon alcohol and shouting more than anything else, my dining partners and I found our conversation drowned out by the goings on around us and gaining the attention of the waiters above the din to be near impossible. To make matters worse, the majority of our initial orders, such staples as maguro sashimi, were not being served as they had already run out despite the early time of the evening.

That which was actually available was little better. Although priced above most budget chain-store izakaya fare the dishes we ordered were not only painfully small and poorly presented, but also bland in terms of both taste and colour. The buta-kakuni, for example, was, instead of the expected rich meaty brown, a putrid off-grey, almost as if it had been soaked in dish-water for several days before being served. A mizuna salad, of green leaves and baby shrimp, was similarly miniscule and mundane. I dared one nihonshu, the Kubori, which was rather poor, too.

Over-priced, poor quality food and drink served badly, if it is in stock. Shun is, plainly, best avoided. We made a hasty exit.

Tel: 0422-41-8701