Very sad it's our last night in Japan, but we decided to end this trip with more positive foodie memories at least. There was one more Hakata dish on my bucket list, and that's what we did - 水炊き mizutaki or chicken hotpot. A brief online search brought my attention to the restaurant where it all started - Suigetsu - and fortunately we were able to get a reservation just a week in advance with the help of our hotel concierge, immediately after our arrival in Japan.
You might be wondering - what's so great about a chicken hotpot anyway? We need to start with a brief history of this dish; surprisingly, its origins are not Japanese, but lie in both Chinese and Western techniques. Heisaburo Hayashida, a Nagasaki native, had travelled to Hong Kong in his youth, where he lived with an English family and studied Western cooking. After returning to Japan, he combined the technique of making consommé with the Chinese method of simmering chicken in water to create a clear soup that would be the basis of mizutaki. In 1905, Heisaburo came to Fukuoka and founded Suigetsu restaurant, specialising in this hotpot dish which he called mizutaki. Seasonal vegetables were also added to the soup throughout the meal, and he finished by adding rice to create a Japanese-style porridge known as 雑炊 zosui. The fame of this dish quickly spread throughout the country, and is well known by its alternative name 博多に Hakata-ni. Traditionally a winter dish, mizutaki is now enjoyed all year round by locals and tourists alike.
Suigetsu remains a family business to this day, run by Heisaburo's son Tomio and grandson Saburo. It is located in a rather inaccessible part of town, along a narrow street about 20 mins' walk away from the nearest subway, but I'm glad we took the trouble.
We had asked for the more expensive (but still very reasonably priced) set (6,700 yen before service and tax) when making the reservation. A whole array of side dishes was served in quick succession after we were seated. The lovely elderly lady serving us explained each of these side dishes with great earnestness as she brought them to our table.
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| (Almost) the full package! |
First up, a cloudy Japanese sake (rice wine) infused with a tinge of cherry blossoms, very seasonally apt and poetically named 'hanami-sake' (lit. for sakura-viewing).
Next, shredded chicken skin in ponzu sauce with spicy oroshi (grated radish) and spring onions. The skin, completely skimmed of fat and boiled, had a very unusual firm and gelatinous texture, and the resulting bite made this cold starter surprisingly refreshing, without a tinge of the cloying greasiness that one usually associates with skin. Both the sauce and the oroshi reinforced this clean and fresh feeling, while the finely-chopped spring onions imparted delicate flavours and aromas. This was an absolutely unexpected palate-cleanser of sorts!
The sauce, which would re-appear very soon as the dipping sauce for the ingredients of the main hotpot, was no ordinary ponzu; one of the defining condiments of mizutaki, this was entirely blended in-house using soy sauce and the juice of daidai (bitter oranges) from nearby Itoshima. These oranges are naturally very tart and are grown over at least a year, typically reaching their peak amidst the severe cold of December to January. For maximum sweetness, the oranges are hand-squeezed one by one by the kitchen staff, and each fruit is never squeezed more than once, to avoid drawing out excessive bitterness and astringency. The oranges may be harvested all year round, but as their acidity varies according to season, the taste of the resulting sauce has to be constantly checked and adjusted by the kitchen staff.
Next, certainly a first for both of us, sashimi of chicken with offal (liver?). The idea of eating raw chicken might gross some people out, but this was in fact very fresh and delicate in flavour, with a mild sweetness, and absolutely tender. Obviously, you cannot make sashimi out of just any chicken. It is worth mentioning that the chicken used in Suigetsu (including the cooked dishes) is not only free-range (known as jidori 地鶏 in Japan) but also of a very special breed known as satsuma-jidori 薩摩地鶏, cultivated in Kagoshima Prefecture.
This chicken breed was even designated as a Natural Monument of Japan in 1943, and is one of three major jidori breeds alongside hinai-dori 比内鶏 and Nagoya-cochin 名古屋コーチン. Such chickens can only qualify for their titles if they are at least 50% purebred in relation to their respective native breeds; verification and certification processes are strict in order to preserve the purity of the lineages.
At Suigetsu, only young male satsuma-jidori a few months of age (i.e. spring chickens) are used. The males are characteristically aggressive and hence notoriously difficult to breed, but their meat is particularly prized for its sweetness, elasticity and colour. You could say that these chickens are the poultry equivalent of Kobe beef.
We also had cold white sesame tofu with soy sauce and freshly grated wasabi. Nice firm texture typical of this kind of Japanese tofu used in shojin-ryori cuisine (精進料理), though not quite as intensely nutty or aromatic on the palate as I was expecting. Still, very pleasant.
Finally, the heaviest of the starters: iwashi 鰯 (sardine) done nanbanzuke (南蛮漬け) style, in which it is first fried then marinated in vinegar and other spices, and finally dressed with leeks and other vegetables, similar to a Mediterranean escabeche. This was in fact a very Chinese-style dish with a familiar strong and spicy taste, perfect for building up to the main hotpot proper. The fish had a lovely moist texture, but also quite a lot of small bones - the only thing that prevented me from enjoying it completely.
While we were enjoying the starters, our waitress brought this out for the main hotpot. Raw minced chicken never looked better, mixed with egg and grated yama-imo (mountain yam) for a smooth and creamy texture.
We were fully expecting to cook our own food, so imagine our surprise when our elderly server stayed with us for the entire duration of the meal, cooking and introducing the proper way to eat mizutaki!
First, before starting to cook any of the raw ingredients, she placed a pinch of sea salt each into two teacups, filled it with the basic chicken broth that had started to boil in the meantime, and asked us to sprinkle chopped Hakata spring onions from a separate dish to taste, according to our preference. The result was an aromatic, creamy and tasty broth that had a slight bitter edge (from the sea salt I believe). It was indeed surprising what complex flavours such an apparently simple soup could have. Imagine how much better it would be after having cooked the rest of our meal in it!
Our waitress then dissolved a large block of collagen (essentially thickened and refrigerated chicken broth) into the soup, and started off by cooking cabbage and chicken thigh on the bone.
The main vegetable of mizutaki, most restaurants nowadays use 白菜 hakusai (Napa cabbage) as it contains more moisture to dilute their saltier or artificially flavoured broth. However, Suigetsu uses normal white cabbage kyabetsu キャベツ which does not contain as much moisture, as its milder broth is flavoured only with the natural taste of chicken. Also, this cabbage only needs to be cooked for a short time, thus preserving its crunch and delicate sweetness, as compared to hakusai, which is usually boiled for a longer time to extract all its moisture, losing its crispness and flavour in the process.
This first bowl of chicken and cabbage was stellar. All too often, chicken becomes extremely dry and tough compared to other meats, but this was absolutely tender and succulent. The cabbage was, as expected, extremely crunchy and sweet. The cooking broth had enhanced the flavour of both ingredients very effectively. Absolutely fresh and delicious when eaten with a small pool of broth mixed with the homemade ponzu (which had appeared earlier accompanying the starter of chicken skin).
A few more bowls of this chicken and cabbage followed, and when we had more or less finished, our waitress started making and cooking perfectly-shaped meatballs from the minced meat that was in the earlier tray, along with pieces of boneless chicken and a few large strips of leek.
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| Both artful and serious in her work. |
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| Smells so good I can hardly wait! |
As the meatballs started to float, the rest of the vegetables, including shimeji and enoki mushrooms and shungiku (chrysanthemum greens), and pieces of silky tofu were added to the hotpot and cooked a little at a time. The meatballs take quite a while to cook through because of their size, so while waiting we had a few more rounds of boneless chicken and vegetables, which take considerably less time to cook.
More bowls with skin-on boneless chicken, leek, mushrooms, tofu, and shungiku (commonly known as tang-oh in Singapore). There was no doubt as to the freshness and quality of all the ingredients, and even the chicken skin in its natural form was light, smooth and flavourful with no trace of fat (in case you're being health-conscious!). The second picture also contains a dash of homemade yuzu-kosho on the top-right side of the bowl; this was the condiment I had grown to love in this Japanese region, for its fresh aroma and delicate spiciness.
It is also worth noting that our waitress had even thoughtfully plated each serving that she gave to us. Every bowl we received was as pretty to look at as it was to eat. Such meticulousness even with the humblest ingredients spoke volumes about her pride in, and dedication to, her work.
Just before serving the meatballs, our waitress left us briefly to bring our last side dish: a very rich and aromatic chicken gratin. This unashamedly Western dish with cheese and potatoes was a fitting tribute to the founder's foreign culinary roots. It did seem somewhat incongruent with an outwardly traditional Japanese establishment, but such is the accepting nature of this region's people to external influences. With something so delicious and decadent, I certainly wasn't going to complain anyway!
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| Done - finally! |
You could say that these meatballs were the pièce de résistance of this hotpot. They were incredibly tender and juicy, and had soaked up all the flavour from the broth. The egg and grated yam in the mince imparted a lovely freshness and richness to the meatballs when cooked. Everything here is indeed so natural and tasty, with very little need for seasoning except for the excellent homemade ponzu and yuzu-kosho if necessary. Great ingredients speak for themselves.
With that the main hotpot was finished, but we were not quite done yet - the remaining broth would be used to cook rice for the last dish of zosui 雑炊 or Japanese-style porridge. You already know this would be good judging from the concentrated flavour of the broth by now! We had also drunk a few cups of the broth so far, which had clearly become tastier and richer (particularly after the addition of collagen) as the meal progressed.
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| Beating and mixing an egg into the broth to further enhance its taste and thicken its texture. |
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| Dressing simply with chopped spring onions. |
Just lovely - this was so simple and wholesome, yet also incredibly rich and tasty! I could see myself eating this everyday. I think I must have had about three bowls!
We were already filling up quite nicely, but there was one more dessert to go - how could we resist this quintessentially French crème caramel anyway? The vanilla custard was very smooth and rich, and its intense flavour was matched equally by the caramel sauce, which had an aptly charred edge to prevent the whole dessert from becoming too sweet and cloying. Like the earlier chicken gratin, this was remarkably authentic, and in general the co-existence of very different culinary styles within this meal was the perfect manifestation of the melting pot (pun intended) of cultures which had originally shaped the founder's outlook, and laid the foundation for an iconic Hakata dish.
I couldn't possibly leave without a photo with our lovely waitress - she had made our last evening in Japan so personal and special with her gentle grandmotherly demeanour, and I almost felt like we were having our own grandmothers cook for us. To the uninitiated, this intensely watchful style of service might prove a little too close for comfort, but just know that the staff really want you to understand and enjoy what you're eating.
A few final pictures of the by-now empty restaurant; we were the last customers to leave as we had started relatively late at 7.30 pm.
Our waitress showed us all the way out, pointed out to us quite excitedly the cherry trees that were about to bloom in the neighbouring courtyard, and didn't go back into the restaurant until we had turned our backs and got out onto the main street. I have never failed to be impressed and touched by Japanese omotenashi, and I am so glad we spent our final evening here. What a wonderful way to end this trip - I cannot wait to be back in this country of lovely people and exquisite cuisines!
Address in kanji: 福岡市中央区平尾3丁目16-14 (20 minutes' walk from Yaku-in 薬院 subway station)
Tel.: (81) 92-531-0031 (reservations compulsory in Japanese)
Open daily for dinner 5 - 10 pm (last order 8.30pm), except Mondays and over the New Year period.
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