Giggle, Soshigaya-Okura Giggle、祖師ケ谷大蔵

GIGGLE is a rather funky little basement burger and beer bar located some way down the main shōten-gai off Soshigaya-Okura station. Famous for Ultraman, hence the ghastly statue of him outside the station, the town is not exactly one of the funkiest parts of Tokyo. GIGGLE goes some way to remedying the situation. 

Once inside the bar is actually much larger than you might imagine. Plenty of tables and chairs, and a small bar with high stools in front. The bar itself is rather appealing, with various knick-knacks, toys, and bottles arranged upon it. Pumps serve draught Bass Pale Ale, Hoegaarden and Asahi beer. Above the bar tins of canned food, American I’m guessing, add some colour while behind the bar rows of spirits promise warm oblivion. 

The room itself is simply decorated. Bare concrete walls covered in beer and burger posters, collections of British beer mats and football team badges, shelves with books and magazines and rows of empty beer bottles. Two large glass-fronted refrigerators house an impressive away of world beers. In the background, folksy American guitar plays and the friendly staff busy themselves taking orders and supplying customers with well-stacked burgers. The atmosphere is truly relaxed, funky, kind of cute and probably more befitting areas such as Kichijōji, Shimo-Kitazawa or Harajuku.

The menu offers up an impressive variety of traditional burgers as well as some novel variations on the theme, such as the crushed-pepper burger. Toppings and additions can be requested at your pleasure. Other dishes include fish and chips, nachos, fried chicken, salads, taco rice and some rather naughty looking chocolate cake.

The drink menu is also enticing. Besides a good selection of teas, coffees, fruit juice, soft drinks, spirits and cocktails a truly awesome range of world beers is presented. Most I’d never even heard of, and indeed half the fun of the place was reading the descriptions of each and admiring the bottle and label designs.

Some of the beers were: Corona Extra; Salitos; Heineken; Newton; Warfeiner; Samuel Adams; Becks; Brooklyn Lager; Satan Red; Pink Killer (a fruit beer); Leffe; Pilsner; Mongozo Coconut Beer; Mongozo Banana Beer; Chimay; Duval; Red Stripe; St. Sebastian; Carilo; Orval; Delirium Tremens and Guinness, from countries such as: Germany; US; Belgium; Mexico; Africa; Australia; the Netherlands; Jamaica; Ireland and Britain, to name but a few. The prices of the more exotic beers can be a little steep, ranging from ¥900 – ¥1200 per bottle (and the bottles are not always large.) More pedestrian offerings, such as the Asahi are more reasonable with the daijoki coming in at ¥880 and the smaller “lunch beer” at ¥300. Some of the beers are very strong, as much as 9.2% ABV.

Various lunch-set deals are on offer, and there’s a happy hour from 5-7pm each evening, during which beer becomes substantially cheaper.

So, what of the burgers? I went for the chili-cheese burger served with potato wedges. I have to say that it was not only huge, but also fresh, clean and cooked to perfection. This formidable stack of goodness contained lettuce, onion, buffalo tomato and a thick burger of lean juicy meat on top of which was plenty of chili-con-carne and melted cheese. The potato wedges were also delicious, although I think the dish could have benefited from a few more of them. A delicious, if messy affair, and at ¥1,000 pretty good value for money.

My dining partner opted for the salsa burger, also served with potato wedges, which consisted of the same ingredients as my chili-cheese burger with the salsa replacing the chili-con-carne and cheese. Again, a devilishly tasty burger. That said, and I’m not really one for burgers especially from certain famous chains, after eating them we felt no regrets. The burgers at GIGGLE are fresh, handmade, contain “real” / natural ingredients and were not at all oily.

I’d certainly go back for more. A good place for a quick lunch, and I’m also of the opinion that the bar – especially during happy hour – would make a good spot to settle down with a book and a glass or two for a few hours. Although I’ve yet to try GIGGLE of an evening, I get the distinct impression that it would be a lot of fun. Indeed, it reminds me of some of the café-bars in my native England. The thought of spending a night there sampling the beers, after dining on burgers, is strangely appealing.

Open from 11.30am – 11.30pm (last orders at 11pm), closed on Wednesdays. Take away menu available.

Update 28/10/09: After a couple of subsequent visits I can safely say that the quality of the food, especially the cheese burger and clam chowder, remains consistently good as does the service. Weekends are noticeably busier and as such the atmosphere improves too.  

Update 29/11/09: Having now tried spending an evening at Giggle, I can safely say it's a lot of fun, if perhaps a bit quiet. They could do with dimming the lights a little too, so as to create a more cozy ambience. Food was splendid yet again, and some of the beers very tasty. The apple beer is probably best avoided though. Service was good, even though the staff seemed confused by our wanting to settle in for the night and use the place in the manner more usual for izakaya / restaurants. 

Tel: 03-3789-4232

Thanks to the ladies over at 8Tokyo.com for the photo of the entrance.

Volontaire, Jingu-mae ボロンテール、神宮前

Perched somewhat precariously above Meiji-Dōri, a short stroll from the Harajuku crossing and Chiyoda line Metro exit, Volontaire is easily missed. Those that bother to climb the wrought iron staircase, bedecked with potted flowers, spiralling up from the street to the jazz bar’s tiny entrance will not be disappointed. Quality jazz, polite service, an excellent sandwich and a selection of quality teas and coffees – far superior to the muck usually served up at jazu-kissa (jazz café) – are provided in a tranquil, if cramped, setting punctuated by the occasional shaking of the flimsy old building as heavy traffic rumbles by on the road below.

Viewed from the street the building, in which Volontaire occupies the second floor, is not only easily overlooked but also perhaps best ignored. An unattractive, dilapidated concrete hangover from the pre-oil shock 1960s era of high growth and shoddy construction, only a quaint little wooden shop sign such as one would expect to find adorning an English tea-room declares in peeling white letters that within are served “Jazz and Coffee.”

Truth be told, the interior of the bar shows signs of age too. But after a little over thirty years of business this can be forgiven. It’s all part of the charm. A reminder of halcyon days and a glorious counter culture in which the jazu-kissa, or bar, played a central role. Squeezed into the tiny, wedge-shaped room a Lilliputian funnel-shaped bar area is surrounded by a narrow counter, its paint worn and peeling like some diseased tree. Rising through the counter to support the sagging purple ceiling, with its black gaffer tape holding the cracks together, is a wooden pillar around which is crafted a lamp in the form of an open flower. Aside from dim yellow lights sunken into the ceiling this flower-lamp provides the only illumination. More often than not, seasonal flowers or tree boughs also decorate the pillar, prettifying the place while occupying already limited space. Around the counter, which can perhaps seat twelve at a push, tall black-cushioned bar stools await occupants. The bar area itself houses a single gas stove, fridge and sink above which are shelves of choice tea, coffee and whiskey. To the left of this “kitchen,” amp, turntable and rarely used CD player feed exquisite jazz to two ancient sweet-sounding speakers perched above the doorway.

Around the room worn walls of thin plywood are adorned with old concert posters and paintings of jazz greats as well as a yellowed-plastic vintage National air-conditioner. To the rear of the bar, and to the right of the unbelievably small washroom (surprisingly modern and clean), shelves hold a selection of books and a cabinet bulges with patrons’ “keep-bottles” of bourbon. On the right of the bar a collection of some 2,000 (reduced a few years ago from around 4,000) records mainly from the 1950s and 60s occupy sagging shelves. To the left of the bar, bottles of wine gather dust.

By day the bar is served by Satoshi-san, the mild-mannered softly spoken younger brother of the lady of the house, Kyoko-san. Satoshi-san, most often in shorts, short-sleeves and sandals, with his long grey hair pulled back in a ponytail has the look and atmosphere of a native American tribal elder, rather than one who served a ten year tenure as an editor at the Nikkei Shimbun. Polite, eloquent, but usually silent, he goes about his work and serves food and drink with a calm grace. Despite commanding only a smattering of English he does his best to host those brave non-Japanese speaking gaijin who do not turn away at the first sight of the place. By night Kyoko-san, a small, attractive and thoroughly charming lady, reigns. As does a ¥2,000 cover charge.

Seated at the far end of the bar, thus enjoying a glimpse of passersby on Meiji-Dōri through the open door, I order beer, Yebisu, time and again while investigating the small, hand-written menu and jotting down the names of records being played. The sleeve of whatever is currently playing is helpfully displayed on top of a stack of vinyl upon the bar. Beer, either Yebisu or Kirin by the bottle, costs ¥750 – as does wine by the glass – and comes served with nuts. Bourbon abounds. Bottles of Makers Mark, Jack Daniels, Four Roses and Wild Turkey beckon from the shelves, as do the costlier single malts, such as Laphroaig and Macallan for ¥1,000. Brazilian coffee at ¥650 and Italian Roast at ¥600 are all made from freshly ground beans and poured from a glass carafe. Teas, such as Darjeeling, Ceylon, Earl Grey and O-cha (Japanese green tea) all come at ¥650. Both tea and coffee are sipped from delicate floral china cups and saucers most often seen in tearooms across the Cotswolds. The delicious, chunky pastrami beef sandwich and beer set is value for money at ¥1,500 (¥1,400 with tea or coffee.) Although I have yet to try it, the walnut pound cake set (with either tea or coffee), at ¥1,200, also sounds tempting. 

Enjoying the relaxing atmosphere and gentle throb of traffic from the streets below I take note as Chet Baker gives way to Sonny Clark and a distinguished looking gentleman, ninety if not a day, dressed in three-piece pin-stripe suit, cravat and panama hat settles onto a stool. By the time “Shelly Manne & His Men at the Black Hawk 1” comes on he has smoked half a packet of cigarettes, chasing each one with a shot of whiskey. As I get up to leave, he orders a bowl of ice cream.

Update 18/3/11: Volontaire is no more. Just as Masako was carelessly swept away, so too this well-loved Jingu-mae stalwart (whether due to the quake or not, I don't know). Amidst the anxiety and destruction wrought upon Japan in the last week, the loss of an old, cramped, jazz bar may be insignificant. But not to all. To some, Tokyo will have become just a little less itself. From what I saw when passing by today, the building behind Volontaire is also in the process and being demolished, as is another further up the row behind Condomania. I'll refrain for getting all "mono no aware" on you... Just this once... 

  

Tel: 03-3400-8629

Huong Viet, Kabukichō フォンベト、歌舞伎町

Assured by our Vietnamese informant that a more authentic Vietnamese dining experience than that offered at Lotus Palace could be had at Kabukichō’s Huong Viet, my dining partner and I fought our way through the crowded Friday night streets of Shinjuku’s east side in search of the place. Located just inside the gate-arch of Kabukichō Ichibangai on the 5th floor of a building of somewhat insalubrious appearance, we emerged from an aging lift to be confronted by an equally run-down stairwell and the entrance to the restaurant. Wondering what we would find inside, we crossed the threshold to be greeted by an accented, lilting “irasshai” from a young lady in traditional Vietnamese costume.

The dining area is fairly basic. The large room, sparsely decorated, with many worn looking dark wood tables and chairs that brought to mind countless Chinese restaurants had the unwelcoming aspect of a dining hall. Being seated at a table for four by a large window looking down

on to the busy streets below we supped on icy Kirin beer and gin & tonic of generous strength. Looking around the restaurant, which despite it being already 8pm was woefully lacking in customers, I found a well-stocked bar to the rear and walls and ceiling decorated with calligraphy, paintings of Vietnam’s countryside, traditional Vietnamese bamboo hats and delicate insect cages (devoid of inhabitants.) In the background suitably quiet, ambient Asian music played. The waitress, all smiles and plump limbs, supplied menus filled with photos of delicious looking, colourful dishes. A cursory glance suggested similar fare to that at Lotus Palace.

As customers began to trickle in, mainly groups of ladies and couples, we tried to ignore the constant rattle and hum of the window shaking with force of the traffic below while ordering our meal. The range of dishes on offer was wide and varied, although shrimps feature in many. Prices were not extortionate but slightly higher than those paid in Akasaka, which was something of a surprise. More beer and three goi cuon (uncooked spring roll) stuffed with shrimps, bacon, shredded daikon and lettuce arrived in a bamboo basket. Of a good size, the top-most was cut in half so that we had no need to argue over the division of the dish. A nice touch. Dipped into a sweet dipping sauce into which crushed nuts were sprinkled, the spring rolls were fresh, filling and had a strong taste of ginger, which made them stand out from those I had tried at the Lotus Palace. Decent enough, and yet I felt they were a little dry. After our own recent, disastrous attempt to make a papaya salad (the result had been a foul smelling, bitter tasting experience) we decided to try that on offer here, and were once again impressed. The salad, goi du du, itself consists of papaya, carrots, daikon, red radish, onions, parsley, nuts and pork, with shrimps arranged around its periphery. It had a nice sweet and sour flavour to it with just a hint of the bitter papaya coming through after. Eager to know why our own culinary endevours had failed, we asked the waitress for advice. Fish oil, it seems, is the secret. Too much results in the awful taste we had created.

As the volume of customers now increased, the atmosphere became much more lively, the air busy with the sound of laughter and a stream of orders. Enjoying ourselves, and keen to sample more of the food, we opted for the rau muong xao toi, fried green kōshinsai with big slices of fried garlic and occasional pieces of red chill pepper. This proved to be my favourite dish of the evening, and as such I found myself wishing it had been a little larger. While I continued to indulge in the beer, my dining partner had a pot of pungent lotus tea and bought a copy of the owner’s, a Ms. Tran Thi Diep, cookbook Ethnic Diet Vietnam, priced at 1,400 yen. Apparently she had come to Japan (Okinawa in fact) as a boat-person in 1979, and after struggling for many years opened her first restaurant in Higashi-Nakano in 1987. The success of that establishment prompted her to open a second one in Nishi-Shinjuku and then a third in Kabukichō. The popularity of her cooking convinced her to share her knowledge, resulting in the cookbook. With luck, we’ll never need to endure a bad papaya

salad again!

Tiring of beer, I switched to whisky. Two large glasses full of Chivas Regal, on the rocks. This was followed by a final dish, the kaisen okoge, consisting of red, orange and green peppers mixed with baby corn, pork and squid in a moist soy based sauce, topped with coriander, into which two large clumps of crispy rice, literally like rice-crispies, were broken and mixed. Initially rather uninspiring, after ten minutes or so the flavours soaked in and the “rice-crispies” softened. The result was very pleasing, and yet perhaps a little too oily. Certainly worth trying though. The meal concluded with Vietnamese style coffee, filtered through a metal filter above a glass containing condensed milk. Strong, sickly sweet, it served to combat the whisky.

In all, a pleasant meal, good service and, once the place fills up, an enjoyable atmosphere. Portions are fair, but not big enough to my mind. Prices are reasonable, although more expensive than those at the Lotus Palace, with the meal coming to 6,000 yen per person. On the whole the food is better than that served at Lotus Palace, but only just. As long as you avoid a table by the constantly rattling windows, an enjoyable experience awaits. I will certainly be visiting the Nishi-Shinjuku Huong Viet shortly, and will report my findings here.

Tel: 03-5155-4721

Web: http://www.huongviet-k.jp/

Gekko, Shibuya 月光、渋谷

Five minutes walk from Shibuya station’s west exit Gekko has long been a favourite izakaya of mine. Somewhat off the beaten track, quality atmosphere and food always made up for the over-priced menu. Hidden away in a basement, accessed by a narrow stairway, Gekko is dark, cosy and inviting, if a little cramped. For the best experience dine at the counter.

Particularly noteworthy are the buta-kakuni with Chinese buns, and the whiskey ‘High-ball’.

My most recent visit left me disappointed. Same atmosphere, same jazz playing in the background, same brusque master, same over-priced menu of Japanese and Western influenced dishes. Problem? Different portions.

 

The dishes have shrunk to an unjustifiably small size. Even Japanese staples such as maguro (tuna) sashimi were but half the average size. Rather than feeling like dishes to comprise a meal, they seemed light snacks to compliment one’s drinking.

I realise Japan is currently facing the worst economic downturn since WWII. Such circumstance does not, however, excuse Gekko for its decline. Shame.

Tel: 03-3476-3713