Jidori-ya, Nakano ぢどり屋，中野

That Nakano has plenty to offer besides the otaku “delights” of Mandrake is well known, especially to those who enjoy izakaya. Out of the station's north exit, the labyrinthine area sandwiched between the Sun Mall shōtengai and the Fureai Road is home to a bewildering – and of late changing – array of izakaya and bars of various persuasions. 

Jidori-ya (spelt with a ぢ) is a little place specializing in simple free-range chicken izakaya fare and other classics reminiscent of much that is nowadays touted as cuisine peculiar to Miyazaki-ken.

Prices are reasonable; beer, Hoppy and cheap shōchū plentiful, and the service friendly, informative and a little over-concerned...

“Can the honourable foreigner eat chewy chicken?” Yes, he could, and so too could his honourably indigenous dining partner. So it was that we tucked into an admittedly chewy, but thoroughly delicious dish of firm, charcoal grilled momoniku. The smoky flavour rich enough to be interesting, without becoming burdensome. In fact, as we lingered over this and other dishes, it was quite delicious even after becoming cold.

The potato salad was poor, which is to say sloppy – the easy way out is always to rely on the mayonnaise too much. Certainly not as good as the perfectly humble variety served at Isukura. The edamame, too, failed to impress.

The interior was fun though. Packed up front (the space is L-shaped), we’d entered because the crowded counter and side tables suggested that either the food was at least okay, or the prices were very, very cheap; or perhaps a nice combination of the two. The mix of simple tables, 1950s (?) television set and a kind of tobacco/ sweet shop façade seemingly rescued from the set of Always added to the neighborhood Shōwa feel of the place.

There was nothing tired or musty about the gyūreba teki however. Again, the staff were concerned about the esteemed visitor’s ability to eat liver, let alone raw liver – from a cow of all things – but such niggles aside it tasted great. Both the sesame oil and grated ginger complimented the dish perfectly. The potato wedges went down a treat, as they tend to after being silly with the beer. 

03-33887447

http://r.gnavi.co.jp/b089200/

Akira, Nakameguro あきら、中目黒

For a higher class of yakitori, one need look no further than Nakameguro’s superlative Akira. Due to its somewhat awkward location, I would go so far as to say that Akira can be considered a hidden gem. Indeed, on my first visit, my dining partner and I decided to trust to instinct only to spend fifteen minutes enjoying a leisurely stroll in completely the wrong direction in search of the place. With confidence, I can now report that the following is the way to find Akira in the shortest time. Stepping out of Nakameguro station, cross the busy main road, and straight over the little bridge across the concrete-encased, tree-lined “river” and turn right at the izakaya with a photographic portrait of the nineteenth century samurai Sakamoto Ryōma on its façade. Walk down the riverside street passed the line of small French restaurants, izakaya and bars and then climb the pale blue pedestrian bridge and cross to the other side of the main road. Back on the pavement, head for the right hand side of the river, and down a small path overshadowed by a canopy of trees. Along this path are arranged a variety of enticing izakaya and restaurants, but do not be distracted. Akira waits at the end of the row.

The yakitori-ya’s façade is a tastefully subdued “traditional” Japanese design, of wide windows framed with light wood that allow a glimpse of the tatami floors and iron chimney hoods suspended from the ceiling above each table as you climb the steps to the entrance. Passing in and pushing through the hanging noren curtains we were greeted by a loud “irasshai” (welcome) from the staff. The prize tables on the raised tatami area along the windows overlooking the river already being taken, we were politely offered the choice of a table on the central wood-floored dining area or a counter seat before the open kitchen. Always curious to seeing how the food is prepared I opted for the counter.

Ordering beer, I took in my surroundings while my dining partner gazed over the menu occasionally exclaiming “oishisō” (seems delicious.) Akira’s interior is as well considered as the façade. Dark wood walls, dimly lit, tatami mats and wooden lattices, a small second floor – more of a balcony-like 1.5 floor – over looking the main dining area, the far wall adorned with neat rows of sake and shōchū bottles proudly displaying their colourful labels, and along the gleamingly clean open kitchen the broad counter of solid polished wood at which we sat. The kitchen itself, although not particularly large, was a hive of activity, there being no less than five or six chefs busy preparing food at any one time. The air was filled with the low bubble of conversation and quite jazz.

Politely noting that this was indeed our first visit, a rather handsome waiter clad in a white jimbei with a navy blue bandana wrapped around his head explained the menu in detail, offering his suggestions and recommending the moriawase (assortment) of grilled morsels so that we might experience various tastes and become acquainted with the menu more easily. Upon our agreeing to this, he further explained that we could have a moriawase of various cuts of chicken, or a combination of both chicken and pork. Hungry, and keen for a little variety, we chose the mix, ordered several more dishes from among the good selection of thoroughly tempting dishes on offer and ordered another round of drinks. To accompany the beer a large o-toshi (appetizer) of raw cabbage and rich red tara-miso in which to dip it was served on a delicate bamboo basket. The cabbage was perfectly fresh and crunchy, the tara-miso spicy. This alone was a filing, delicious dish and further excited my appetite. Nibbling my cabbage and quaffing cold beer I was soon surprised my the arrival of a large wooden box containing a heavy stone brazier filled with glowing coals above which a metal grill was placed. Plainly we were to cook the yakitori ourselves, which although being a departure from the norm was a pleasant one. The heat from the coals, with their

orange glow and ashen crust, added to the cosy atmosphere of the place.

The meal proper commenced with asazume corn, four chilled portions of raw corn-on-the-cob lightly dusted with salt thus causing them the “sweat.” This sweet tasting dish was surprisingly good and as such I recommend it wholeheartedly. Next followed a bowl of momo no tataki, a kind of chicken-sashimi salad consisting of slices of raw chicken meat off the thigh mixed with tamanegi (onion), spring onion, myōga (Japanese ginger), daikon oroshi (grated daikon), sesame seeds and yuzu ponzu (citrus juice.) From my vantage point at the counter I was able to watch the chefs and also the master of the house, Akira-san, preparing sumptuous trays of assorted chicken-sashimi, slicing the meat with perilously sharp knives and tenderly arranging the slices upon a salad arrangement, that was in itself a work of beauty, with slender hashi (chopsticks.) To witness the care with which the chicken was prepared, and its obvious freshness, was to be assured of not only its quality. Making a mental note to order more sashimi later in the evening, my dining partner and I became so caught up in the food and our conversation that we failed notice that amongst all the chicken being prepared before our eyes there was not a wooden skewer in sight…

By 7.30pm a steady stream of customers was coming in, many greeted personally by the tall shaven-headed Akira-san. The crowd was mainly made up of middle-aged patrons with a smattering of young couples. The younger couples seemed to have mostly booked tables by the window, suggesting that the seats looking over the river are considered worthy when dating. At the same time the main attraction of our meal, the moriawase arrived. Contrary to our expectations the pieces of chicken and pork were not served on the usual skewers, but laid out on a large plate in the same way as yakiniku. In fact, considering the brazier upon which we then cooked the meat, the whole style of this yakitori-ya was more akin to a yakiniku restaurant. An interesting, enjoyable deviation from the more traditional way of eating yakitori. The plate of meats was well presented, consisting of four or five pieces each of tori-hatsu (chicken heart), tori-nankotsu (chicken cartilage), tori-momo (chicken-thigh), tori kawa (chicken skin), buta kata-rōsu (shoulder pork), buta bara (pork belly) and some tiny little chicken tsukune (chicken mince) wrapped in green shiso leaves (perilla.) An array of condiments was provided and explained in detail by the waiter. Soy sauce, ponzu, mashed garlic, pepper and a narrow oblong dish containing salt, lemon salt, and shichimi (seven spices.) Throughout the rest of the meal we busied ourselves with cooking these at intervals between other dishes from the menu and a thorough reconnaissance of the sake list. In general all were wonderfully tender (the nankotsu being the obvious exception) and much of the evening’s enjoyment was found in cooking the meats.

We were lucky to be seated at the counter, as one of the chefs took it upon himself to be our host-guide for the evening instructing us on the best way to cook each cut of meat and explaining which condiments most suited them. Busy as he was in the kitchen he never failed to pay closer attention to our sizzling dinner than we did. On the whole, all of the chicken was quite excellent dipped in the lemon salt, and the pork went well with shichimi. Although I usually avoid nankotsu at all costs, that served at Akira was actually rather good. Crunchy, tasty and not too chewy I might even be tempted to have it again. Watching the fatty, buta kata-rōsu sizzling away on the grill, the soft white fatty parts melting, was a pleasure and when eaten with mashed garlic and tare sauce was fantastic.

The subtle tastes of the chicken deserved something more refined than the heavy glasses of chilled draught beer, and so with that excuse in mind I asked the waiter to recommend a nomiyasui (drinkable), karakuchi (dry) sake. This resulted in a tall glass of pale-yellow Sabaki set in a red stained wooden masu. Smooth, light to the taste and water-like, several more followed. As the sake haze took hold, I watched in silent awe as the younger chefs would on occasion stop whatever they were doing to watch Akira-san or another high-ranking chef prepare a certain dish. They gathered round silenty, staring intently at every knife stroke or gentle prod of a vegetable. Such attention to detail and devotion to their art is impressive. 

Thus encouraged I decided to return to the raw chicken, this time in the form of the maroboshi no rebā (raw chicken liver) served on heaped bed of daikon, shiso, myōga and cress with the pieces of liver sprinkled with sesame seeds. Plucking a slice of the soft, orangey liver from its resting place it was then dipped in a thick, rich tasting goma abura (sesame oil.) Utter perfection. So tender that it melted in the mouth, this was easily some of the best chicken liver sashimi I have tasted. So good in fact that I decided to celebrate the occasion with a glass of Nokomi, a sake somewhat stronger tasting than the Sabaki. Perhaps not as smooth, the Nokomi had a richer taste and the same pale yellow colouring, and this time the glass was filled so as to overflow into the masu, filling it almost to the brim. 

Beaming like a happy fool, I set about grilling the rather cute little tsukune in their shiso kimono and made short work of the buta bara with spicy yuzu koshō (citrus pepper) and karami sauce. The pork had a rich, oily taste that only heightened my appetite for sake. Once the tsukune were cooked, they were dipped in the rich orange yoke of a lightly poached egg, the flavour of the shiso making them stand out from the norm. Enjoying the shiso leaf my dining partner suggested some vegetables, and proceeded to order asparagus. Six thick lengths of it, best lightly grilled so as to remain crunchy with lemon juice squeezed over it. Delightful. At this point, we were informed that our time was almost up. A two-hour limitation if one has booked, especially on weekends, is usual in most izakaya even if it is rather annoying. But this was a Tuesday evening. I can only assume that this system is in force in order to allow the high volume of eager customers to be accommodated. A shame from my point of view, but also an indication of Akira’s much deserved popularity. On another visit, a Friday evening, the same two-hour limitation was in place but was eventually ignored, indicating that the enforcement of the policy depends entirely on the volume of custom.

Still eager to sample a little more from the menu we ordered the hone-tsuki jidori momo sumibi-yaki, a large chicken thigh flamed by the chef and served sizzling on a hot stone plate with most of the meat having been cut from the bone. While it was great fun to watch the flames leaping into the air as the chef cooked it, I must admit that the charred taste of this particular dish was a little overpowering. That said, the meat off the bone was tasty, and a dainty little covering of tinfoil had been wrapped around the bone such that even my aversion to greasy fingertips was assuaged. Washing this down with another glass of Nokomi, we thanked the waiter for his excellent service and the chefs for the truly excellent meal they had produced.

Akira is an excellent take on yakitori, providing pleasant surroundings, polite knowledgeable service and wonderful food. Prices are reasonable, with this meal coming in at around 6,000 yen per person. The two-hour limitation lets the show down a bit, but is perhaps avoidable if you do not book a table. On the other hand, Akira seemed very popular and without booking one runs the risk of finding no room at the inn. My only other reservations are that the place can be come rather smoky from all the grills when busy, and that the table layout and some of the staff themselves are not good at dealing with large groups (say seven or more people.) From what I have seen, weekdays offer a quieter, more relaxed atmosphere while weekends are somewhat livelier with a slightly younger clientele. In all, Akira is highly recommended.

Tel: 03-3793-0051

Web: http://r.gnavi.co.jp/g938001/

Sanchaki, Sangen-jaya 三茶気、三軒茶屋

Conveniently hidden among the labyrinthine backstreets of Sangen-jaya, Sanchaki is immediately recognisable. An old, traditional style building of dark, almost black, stained wood that creates a dominating presence, with narrow windows and entrance. A small window beside the porch is filled with bottles of sake, while peeping through the doorway one sees a short hallway of worn polished wood and part of the counter in front of the kitchen.

Receiving a warm welcome – many an “irasshai!” from the all male staff – my dining partner and I were ushered along the hall, past to young girls busy with homework at the counter, and into a simple room of bare plaster walls and dark wood filled with equally simple tables and chairs that had the look of being in use for decades. From our table at the rear of the room could be seen a wide glass window looking onto a neighbouring room illuminated by the warm glow of orange lanterns. I wished we had been seated in there.

Menus and the recommendations of the day were swiftly proffered, and drink orders taken in a friendly manner, with explanations of some of the interesting, yet unrecognisable, dishes given. My first glance at the drink menu led me to believe, mistakenly, that only two sakes were available – Hakkaisan and another unnamed cheaper one served by the tokkuri. Had I taken the time to read the menu properly I would have known that others were available if one but asks. Ignorant of this fact I started with a cold beer thinking to save the Hakkaisan for later in the meal.

Having arrived at Sanchaki early in the evening, before it had opened in fact, it was not busy, although a trickle of diners did eventually arrive. One couple, an attractive woman in her late-thirties perhaps and an older walrus of a man, caught the attention of my dining partner, who swore that the woman was a famous TV celebrity. An o-tsumami of chicken tsumure in a chicken stock broth containing chives, diced dried chilli pepper and sesame seeds arrived, shortly followed by our drinks. While enjoying the summery strains of Okinanwan music piped into the room we studied the menu. The majority of dishes ranged from 480 to 680 yen and, as mentioned earlier, differed from the usual izakaya fare to the extent that we were forced to ask for descriptions of many before ordering.

The crunchy kyūri-karamiso – long chunky halves of cucumber dipped into a hot spicy miso paste – started off the meal, while my first Hakkaisan, glass overflowing so as to fill the lacquer masu to the brim, was accompanied by another spicy dish: gekikara moyashi “fire” – bean sprouts, sesame, nira (a kind of long onion) – served in a cradle of tinfoil. Tasty, fairly spicy (various heats can be requested) and not large, this dish set the tone for the rest of the evening with most of what followed containing nira and the portions been a little on the small side. The atmosphere not unpleasant and the service brisk and friendly we were encouraged to order further dishes such as the liver and nira – succulent pieces of liver and the same onion covered in some kind of teriyaki-like sauce – again served on tinfoil, and the buta to pon – basically bacon, nira and bean sprouts cooked in ponzu sauce containing kimuchi – which was far tastier than it at first appeared. Another glass of Hakkaisan, the waiter this time asking if I minded him filling the glass and masu to the brim – of course not! – some chicken nanban, large pieces of fried chicken, the skin crispy, served on a bed of shredded cabbage and topped with taru-taru sauce – a pink mayonnaise based affair also containing pickles and egg.

Having finally discovered that other sakes could be had I opted for Masumi, a rather rough tasting nihonshū from Nagano prefecture that smoothed out after the first few sips. The drink now taking its toll I decided to further line my stomach with abakādo batā shōyu – soft avocado and mushroom cooked in butter topped with dried seaweed and soy sauce, and a rather disappointing nagaimo – Chinese yam – kuroke covered in the same taru-taru sauce as the chicken.

I can’t make up my mind about Sanchaki. Most of the food was tasty, certainly interesting, and reasonably priced if a little on the small side. The service was good and the atmosphere enjoyable. I got the impression that the place really needs to full before it feels truly cozy. Every thing about this izakaya errs on the side of simplicity. Not a bad thing necessarily, but it results in some of the dishes, for example the chicken and kuroke, being rather pedestrian and the interior feeling spartan. Enjoyable enough I suppose, but perhaps best enjoyed with a crowd.

Tel: 03-5779-3338

Bunbuku, Shimo-Kitazawa 分福、下北沢

There is much to like in Bunbuku, a small yakitori-ya, part of the Jackpot Planning group, less than a minutes stroll from the south exit of Shimo-Kitazawa station. Suitably unassuming while reassuringly ‘Japanese’ the shop front displays paper lanterns, hand-painted signs and menus, and that manufactured run-down appearance that promises good food and cold beer at reasonable prices.

That is not to say that Bunbuku is without faults. The selection of sake on offer is pitifully limited, although shōchu is better represented, and while the atmosphere of the ground floor with its narrow counter and kitchen is enjoyable the first floor (the second to Japanese minds, of course) feels a little sparse. An afterthought. This need not be the case as the building, providing a vaulted ceiling and bare wooden beams, potentially has scope for a more interesting interior. Despite these points, two pleasant evenings have been enjoyed at Bunbuku, with my dining partners and I each time being impressed with quality, and value, of the food served.

I had noticed the shop numerous times while passing by on my way to the station, each time being impressed by the lively throng of customers and sounds of kitchen and staff. Eventually taking the time to try the place, it lived up to expectations, thanks not only to the great food but also to the friendly service provided by staff that obviously take pride in their work and the service they provide. Always friendly and prompt, without rushing diners, the staff are attentive. I wish they were more familiar with the details of their menu, but this is a small point.

The menu is simple, being illustrated by occasional photographs. Ordering beer, the wonderfully crunchy, colourful o-shinko moriawase – assorted pickles of daikon, aubergine, cabbage and ginger – and the deliciously hot and sour kimuchi, we took our time in choosing from the selection of yakitori – grilled chicken morsels on small wooden skewers – and other interesting offerings such as the skewer of tuna and leek covered in miso, which had a wonderful, almost citrus, sweet taste.  Always keen to make at least a nod in the direction of health eating we selected the cabbage salad; a bowl of raw cabbage generously doused with a ponzu sauce.  Not overly large we gratefully accepted a refill (not an option generally offered). In order to try a bit of everything this was accompanied by a moriawase consisting of ten different skewers and the delightfully tender, chunky chicken liver, which was cooked to perfection, being neither too bloody nor too dry. Highlights were the momo – leg meat – and sasami – white meat (breast?) – smothered in rather too much wasabi. All were thoroughly delicious, prompting us to make a second order of our favourite individual skewers. This led to the revelation that the size of the skewers in the moriawase are considerably smaller than those ordered individually. Be advised.  

Tiring of beer, I switched to sake, the Bunbuku junmai being recommended. The ni-go, two portion, tokkuri – sake jug – was nothing short of enormous, and the Bunbuku junmai itself was not bad at all, but certainly nothing spectacular. This enjoyable meal was brought to its conclusion with a final order of nankotsu and tsukune – cartilage and chicken mince – in a plum sauce.

Bunbuku is almost everything a good yakitori-ya should be. Cheap, three dining cost a little under 8,000 yen, simple and delicious. Indeed, the freshness, portions, and taste were all excellent. None were over cooked and, as mentioned above, the liver was not undercooked either. Friendly service and a lively atmosphere created by patrons, young and old, enjoying their meals add up to an experience which is not only enjoyable but also excellent value for money. Recommended.

Update 28/9/09: Bunbuku has undergone some of the transformation. Interior somewhat improved, new menus printed on cheap paper & plastic fans and yakitori no longer on offer. A selection of tasty, well proportioned, kushiyaki is now the mainstay of this izakaya. 

Tel: 03-3410-5260