Saturday 10 January 2015

Delights of Kansai (2): Oshogatsu kaiseki dinner at Kichisen (吉泉), Kyoto

This evening, we visited Kichisen for the first true kaiseki experience of this trip - something that needs to be done at least once as a foodie in Kyoto! As with many high-end Japanese establishments, this exclusive ryotei (a luxury traditional Japanese restaurant) is located a little far out from the town centre, in the vicinity of Shimogamo-jinja 下鴨神社 (an UNESCO World Cultural Heritage site) and the virgin forest of Tadasu-no-mori 糺ノ森, an appealing combination of history and nature.

We took the bus no. 205 from Kyoto Station to the Tadasu-no-mori bus stop, a ride that took us about 30 minutes. The bus stop is actually a little further down from the ryotei, so you'll have to walk backwards for about 150 metres after alighting. Along located along the main road, Kichisen's façade is so discreet that we would have walked right past it, if not for me noticing its kanji on the top right corner and the moistened stone steps, a typical gesture by ryoteis to welcome guests on a fresh and clean note. They can get rather slippery though, so do watch your step if you ever visit one.

Chef-owner Yoshimi Tanigawa is not only a master chef, but also well-versed in other Japanese art forms such as calligraphy and the tea ceremony. This is typically expected of top traditional chefs in Japan, as kaiseki is a complete cultural experience that transcends the mere culinary dimension (more on that later). Tanigawa-san is particularly famous in Japan as the winner of the Iron Chef competition in 1999, in which he demonstrated impressive dexterity in preparing hamo or pike conger, a summer delicacy notorious for its numerous tiny bones, and hence requiring masterful knifework. Before that, as early as 1986, Kichisen had already been mentioned in the New York Times, hence raising its profile within international gastronomic circles. I got the impression from the comprehensive English version of its website that Kichisen is genuinely interested in introducing foreigners to authentic high-level Kyoto cuisine, and with 3 Michelin stars for the past 3 years as well as very high rankings on Tabelog, I figured that we couldn't go wrong with this place. Making reservations through the phone from Singapore had been entirely hassle-free; the staff's Japanese had been very clear and easy to understand, and she had made it a point to ask if we had any food preferences and allergies.

We were a couple of minutes late for our 7.30 pm reservation due to traffic conditions, and by the time we arrived at the main door, a young male member of staff was already expecting us. I'm not sure if there were hidden cameras outside or something, but the inner shoji doors promptly slid open as if through some act of clairvoyance (they're opaque, by the way, so one can't see what's outside). He addressed us very politely and warmly and proceeded to lead us through the narrow corridors to our private room for the evening. The initial reception was all so impressively slick.

Main gate decorated for the New Year, with shime-kazari
above the door and pine boughs on both sides.

個室「草の間」

Our small, but very cosy and elegantly-appointed private tatami room, poetically named 'between the grass'. Actually I had requested for a counter seat, hoping to interact more with Tanigawa-san, so I was a little surprised to be here, but certainly not complaining. In hindsight kaiseki is a complete cultural experience, best enjoyed in private, amidst artworks and decorations specially chosen by the chef to complement the seasons. The atmosphere here was restful yet energising; I felt ready to start this gastronomic journey immediately.

Private room 'so-no-ma'

'Longevity' - completely apt for the New Year.

Byobu (folding screen) for further privacy.

For this evening, I had requested the 25,000 yen omakase option. For the first 10 days of January (also known as 'oshogatsu' in Japan), a special New Year's menu is offered, and there are 5 omakase options at dinner, costing between 20,000 to 30,000 yen excluding tax and service charge. Options 22,000 yen and below do not include a 'hassun' (platter of seasonal delicacies, which you will see later - very impressive), and it may well be worth that extra few thousand yen, in case you need help deciding!

Kaiseki is the pinnacle of Japanese food culture. The closest Western equivalent would be a tasting menu, but on an even higher aesthetic level than that, each dish tells a story or evokes particular scenes and moods associated with the season. This is done not only with highly seasonal/regional ingredients, but also with the best tableware and artistic presentation that the restaurant can come up with. In top restaurants, the crockery may even consist of museum-quality artefacts and antiques. As mentioned before, one should also not forget the surrounding decorations, which contribute to an elegant and sophisticated ambience through their austere charm. As diners follow the progression of courses, they are treated to a real feast for all the senses.

梅昆布茶

We started with a warm welcome drink to refresh the senses and stimulate the palate. This was a pickled plum and kelp infusion, with a lovely balance of sweet, sour and salty flavours. This clear and colourless liquid possessed a remarkably deep umami which really awakened our tastebuds and set up great expectations for what was to come.

The beautiful bowl, with a shime-kazari しめ飾り design featuring a twisted straw rope with fern fronds and daidai (Japanese bitter orange) leaves, couldn't have been more appropriate. Shime-kazari, with its many auspicious symbols, is generally hung on doors (see earlier photo of Kichisen's main gate) during the Japanese New Year holidays and serves as a charm against evil spirits.



The meal then began with great aplomb, and from the presentation of the sake and appetisers, it was clear that this kitchen was out to impress.


No detail was spared; atop the handle of the exquisite silver sake pot were tied a pine bough and a branch of budding plum. The yin-yang pairing was obvious - the evergreen pine is a traditional symbol of masculinity and resilience, while the plum, its charming feminine counterpart, represents purity and courage as it blossoms amidst harsh winters. Both cold-weather plants symbolise hopes for a good year and ability to overcome all adversity. The mizuhiki (red-and-white ceremonial cord) that bound them together in a large round knot is another yin-yang symbol which further reinforces the idea of harmony and completeness in life.


食前酒「酒一献」(金箔付き)

After brewing, top-quality sake is usually first offered to the gods in elaborate ceremonies at Shinto shrines, before being presented to honoured guests. It is with this traditional context in mind that Kichisen extends its welcome and gratitude to customers, whom it presumably regards as second only to the divine powers. This clear filtered sake with real 24K gold flakes (a symbol of luxury and prosperity) was extremely aromatic and sweet, with a refreshing tinge of bitterness and spiciness. 

Drinking sake over the New Year is believed to ward off illnesses and bring in happiness and peace for the year ahead. The symbolisms contained in the guinomi (sake cup) were unmissable; once again, the red-and-white yin-yang colours were present, and the overall design even resembled a taikyokuzu (Chinese yin-yang symbol). Plum blossoms were also tastefully painted in gold. On the underside (see earlier photo) there were two split wisps of straw; their sharp edges are regarded by the Japanese as having the ability to prick and ward off demons and other intruders.


先付

I could hardly wait to move on to the tantalising array of appetisers, encased aptly in goat- and persimmon-shaped receptacles, and further decorated with ferns. 2015 is the year of the goat, and persimmons are a popular winter fruit in Japan. The religious connotation of this presentation also could not be missed. A branch of sakaki 榊 (Cleyera japonica, one of the three major sacred trees in the Shinto religion) was bound with shide 四手 (zigzag white paper streamers commonly used in Shinto purification and blessing rituals) to make a tamagushi 玉串 (traditional Shinto offering to the gods at special ceremonies), thereby inviting the presence of the gods and requesting their blessings for the year ahead. An intentional light sprinkling of dew over the leaves imparted an additional cool and refreshing feeling. I was very impressed indeed by this meticulousness.


Looks just as great on the inside!

数の子、甘草、松茸、海苔たれ添え松笠慈姑、蜆、平目龍飛巻、人参と長芋の漬物、菜の花、木の芽田作り、セロリの糖漬け

In the main goat-shaped container: marinated herring roe, fresh licorice, matsutake mushroom, arrowhead with seaweed sauce, marinated shijimi clams, flounder sashimi wrapped in simmered kelp, pickled carrot and mountain yam, rape blossoms, Japanese pricklyash, dried anchovies cooked in soy sauce and sugar, sweet pickled celery.

These seasonal appetisers are part of osechi ryori お節料理 (traditional Japanese New Year's cuisine) and they were as delicious as they were rich in New Year colours and symbolisms. Particularly memorable ones were the herring roe (representing prosperity and progeny due to its tiny size and sheer numbers) for their crunchy bite and refreshing briny and astringent taste, the matsutake (a luxury autumn/winter mushroom often known as the truffle of Japan, and priced as such) for its deep earthy flavour and aroma, the marinated clams for their succulence and umami, the celery for its astonishing softness, sweetness and juiciness (none of that yucky fibrousness and bland vegetal taste) and the pricklyash for its distinctive herbal aroma and spiciness, which left a lovely fresh aftertaste.


丹波黒豆の甘露煮、土筆(金箔付き)

In the smaller persimmon-shaped receptacle were Tanba black beans boiled in sugar, with horsetail and gold leaf. Black beans from the Tanba region of nearby Hyogo Prefecture are famous for their size and flavour, and are most commonly eaten after boiling in syrup. These sweet and large beans are also one of many typical New Year delicacies; in the olden days black was believed to have magical powers, and the Japanese word for bean 'mame' could also mean 'diligence' when written with different kanji. They are also sometimes known as 'budo mame' 葡萄豆 (lit. 'grape beans').

The ones here had retained their form perfectly despite the boiling; each bean had a soft juicy crunch without the slightest hint of mushiness, and its beautiful glossy black skin was entirely intact. They were extremely moreish and gone way too soon! One doesn't usually think of beans as a standalone delicacy, but these were clearly fine enough to hold their own against other seemingly more luxurious ingredients within this dazzling array. A small piece of gold leaf garnishing elevated the status of this bowl of beans yet further.


お椀

Next up was the soup dish, arriving in surprisingly large individual ceramic hot pots with their own portable stove to keep the contents warm. An elegant small porcelain bowl was provided on the side to contain the ingredients that would be scooped out of the pot.


車海老、小松菜、ふぐの白子、柚子と生姜入りお出汁

Japanese imperial prawn, Japanese mustard spinach, and fugu shirako in a lightly thickened dashi broth with a touch of yuzu and ginger

The lovely citrusy aroma of yuzu struck us the moment the lids were lifted. Its distinctive scent is one of my favourites, and I couldn't wait to tuck in. The best way to enjoy this dish is to savour a few spoonfuls of soup alone first, before consuming its contents together. The soup was fresh and warming all at once due to the addition of both yuzu and ginger - most apt for this wintry climate. Of course, the quality of the dashi (the lifeblood of Japanese cuisine) was superlative, not to mention the rest of the ingredients. I liked how the prawns had only been slightly cooked when they arrived, so that they could continue cooking in the gentle heat of the soup throughout this course, absorbing all its wonderful flavours without any danger of being overdone. To be eaten last, they had a most succulent and springy texture, and a delightful sweetness enhanced by the umami of the broth.

It was also my first time with fugu shirako, and compared to cod shirako this was suprisingly delicate in taste and texture, with no fishy odour at all - almost like two soft and spongy chunks of whisked egg white. Fugu shirako is also a truly premium ingredient, far more highly regarded than the common cod shirako, and I could totally see why. This winter delicacy was really enjoyable!


向附:鯛とイカの刺身(調味料:醤油とちり酢)

Sea bream and squid sashimi followed, very evocatively presented in a bamboo basket in the form of a hoekago, a portable shrine used at ceremonies worshipping Ebisu, the patron deity of merchants and one of the 7 Lucky Gods of Japan. Pine boughs and budding plum branches were also added to the roof of the hoekago.

Sea bream is a traditional Japanese symbol of prosperity due to its pink colour, and its Japanese name 'tai' is commonly associated with the word 'omedetai', meaning 'auspicious' or 'happy'. In Kyoto, the Hatsu-Ebisu Festival takes place from 8 -12 Jan in the city's Ebisu Shrine, and celebrations peak on the 10th - exactly the day of this reservation, so the timing of this dish couldn't have been more apt! Served with dips of soy sauce and chirizu (citrus ponzu with grated radish and finely chopped chives), to be used separately to highlight different aspects of the sashimi. The chirizu was particularly symbolic as it used the juice of the daidai bitter orange (the Japanese New Year's orange), and was placed in a maple leaf-shaped dish as a recollection of the previous season.


Served with a whole bunch of unique herbs and garnishes whose names I can't remember, but all went very well with the fresh and mildly sweet fish. As a bonus I was told that many of these are also used in Traditional Chinese Medicine and so are really good for you too. The bream had a nice firm texture while the squid was tender and felt slightly creamy. The soy sauce (only for dipping in lightly) enhanced the delicate taste of both while the chirizu (to be used generously) highlighted their freshness and sweetness.


向附:大トロの刺身

Just when I thought we were already done with the sashimi, came a further extravagant surprise: this was tuna belly sashimi in the midst of a most beautifully plated mountain snowscape (made of finely shaved ice, with real pine cones and pine boughs), on a huge dish. For only two pieces of fish (to share, by the way - so only one slice each), this presentation took a seemingly disproportionate amount of effort, but this is what one might expect from a top ryotei, and I certainly wasn't complaining.


The tuna belly had an exceptional melt-in-the-mouth texture with a rich fatty flavour. I really felt like I couldn't just stop at one slice, and fortunately, our waitress would soon bring in two more slices for each of us, and she placed them on smaller dishes that had been presented during the first round of sashimi. They were so pretty it felt almost like a shame to eat off them (I would have loved to take mine home!). All in all we had three slices of tuna belly each, and that number might well have been intentional, for odd numbers are considered lucky numbers in Japan.


兵庫県柴山港産松葉蟹

Before our next dish, we were offered a tantalising preview of our later main course: a whole live Matsuba crab (male snow crab) from Shibayama Port in Hyogo Prefecture, to be done different ways and shared between us. Crabs are another winter delicacy in Japan, and the Matsuba species is the most highly prized by the Japanese, much more so than the internationally famous Zuwai snow crab and Taraba king crab from Hokkaido. Matsuba crabs are usually harvested from the Sea of Japan off the Tango Peninsula (north of Kyoto), and sent to Shibayama and Tsuiyama ports in nearby Hyogo Prefecture. Only male crabs fetch a premium due to their size; the female Matsuba, commonly known as Sekogani, is much smaller and its meat is considered relatively inferior in taste and texture. Also, although its shell contains a significant amount of roe, it does not have as much tomalley or 'crab fat' (more on that later), widely regarded as the most delicious part of the Matsuba crab.

The Matsuba crab is distinguished by its long slender legs due to a lack of rocky terrain in their fishing grounds. The plankton-rich seafloor of the region contributes to its excellent quality, and the crab is graded by size, weight, completeness (the slender legs may break off while the crab moves along the seafloor, or during fishing and transportation, especially if the crab is younger/smaller and hence more fragile) and the presence of distinct protruding black dots on its shell, signs of adequate maturity as well as natural micro-organisms found only beyond certain depths (the more the better, as it means that the crab was caught at greater depths and has been allowed to grow to its full potential, and hence must be tastier). It may take up to 10 years for a Matsuba crab to grow to the size you are seeing in the following photo, and this beautiful greyish pink colour and complete and symmetrical form would certainly command very high prices on the market (up to 20,000 yen per crab). We were certainly blessed by Nature's bounty this evening, and for the price we were paying we couldn't have asked for more.


The next course came in a generously glazed dark green ceramic box with thick sturdy walls and a heavy lid, presumably to maintain the warmth of the contents within.


中皿:赤飯(勝ち栗と黒胡麻付き小豆もち米)

This was the nakazara or 'middle dish', which usually involves something simple and steamed, before moving on to the climax of the kaiseki. In this case it was sekihan, or red bean glutinous rice with crushed black sesame salt and a whole steamed dried chestnut. Sekihan (lit. 'red rice') is usually served during celebratory occasions. As soon as the lid was lifted, strong roasted nutty aromas from the black sesame wafted through the air, tinged afterwards with the more delicate natural fragrance of the rice and beans. The rice was very well-cooked such that every grain was well-defined with a firm sticky bite, and evenly perfumed with the elegant sweetness of red beans. Whole red beans scattered throughout the rice contributed a further pleasant chunkiness to each mouthful. The chestnut was remarkably moist and soft, somewhat creamy in texture, and it was extremely deep, earthy and sweet in taste. Finally, the mild sprinkling of sesame salt contributed not only delightful aromas but also an inspired savoury touch to the overall sweetness of this rice dish. Absolutely divine.

Interestingly, dried chestnuts are also known as kachiguri or 'victory chestnut' in Japan, as they were traditionally eaten by samurai warriors prior to battle. Who'd have thought that such a seemingly straightforward dish could possess such intensity and sophistication? And what more impressive surprises might the next part of the kaiseki bring?


八寸

From this point onwards, the meal built up quickly and successive courses became increasingly elaborate. The first stage of this process was an evocative platter of seasonal delicacies from the mountains and sea, called the hassun, typically served in the middle of a kaiseki and making the greatest visual impact. These little bowls and dishes here seemed to be floating on the large raised cloud-like serving dish, amidst the heights of a pine forest. The white lacquered dish is Kichisen's signature New Year's design, and its green aoi 葵 (hollyhock) leaf motif is a reference to the family seal of the historical Tokugawa samurai clan, as well as the plant found abundantly in nearby Shimogamo Shrine.


I will continue to describe the contents of each bowl and dish in greater detail below. As you can see, the flat dishes were coated in luxurious and festive gold paint, while the undersides of the bowls' lids contained the character 'fuku' 福 for good fortune. The auspicious symbolisms were truly omnipresent.


車海老、柚子の糖漬け、百合根、たら子寒天

Japanese imperial prawn, candied yuzu rind, fresh lily bulb carved in the shape of a peony, cod roe agar jelly. I was particularly impressed by the exquisite carving of the lily bulb. The peony ('botan' in Japanese) is Japan's King of Flowers and also a symbol of prosperity and good fortune. Fresh lily bulbs are large, ball-shaped and consist of numerous scale-like sections, and hence are particularly suited to carving in detailed flower patterns. When boiled, they also have a delicate sweetness and soft starchy texture. Lily bulbs are a highly regarded ingredient against respiratory illnesses in Traditional Chinese Medicine, and are also widely grown for food in Japan. Prawns and lobsters, bent over when cooked, symbolise the backs of elderly people, and by extension, longevity. The prawn here was very sweet and succulent. Yuzu is one of my favourite ingredients for the high natural concentration of aromatic oils on its rind; the rind is regarded by the Japanese to be the best part of the fruit, and indeed it is what gives yuzu its distinctive citrusy fragrance. The thickly-sliced rind here was simply lovely. Last but not least, the small block of agar jelly coated with cod roe was both unusual and effective in its combination of flavours and textures. The firm gelatinous texture and mild sweetness of the agar was very well enhanced by all that crunchy and salty roe set into it, resulting in a remarkably moreish piece with an unexpectedly deep umami.


揚げ長芋、焼き鮎昆布巻、イサザの佃煮、柿と人参の胡麻和え

Lightly salted and fried yam chips, grilled sweetfish wrapped in kelp, dried ice goby boiled in soy sauce, persimmon and carrot in a sesame dressing. The other gold dish contained delicacies that were more savoury in nature. The yam chips had a pleasant crunchy bite and light starchy mouthfeel - a much more refined version of potato chips if I may describe it that way. The grilled sweetfish (a highly prized food fish in Japan, and premium relative of smelt) was moist and juicy and, as its name suggests, had a delicate sweet charred taste which was well complemented by the kelp wrap. Both the sweetfish and konbu symbolise happiness, and the Japanese name 'konbu' for kelp is a play on the verb 'yorokobu' ('to be happy'). This representative osechi morsel was probably the tastiest and most sophisticated of this small dish. Lastly, the mixture of persimmon and carrot strips with sesame dressing was very easy to like. Every bite combined the fresh juicy sweetness of the fruit and vegetable strips with the creamy, aromatic and nutty dressing - simultaneously healthy and indulgent.


筍とイカの木の芽味噌和え

Moving on to the bowls - first, diced bamboo shoots and raw squid in a kinome (pricklyash) miso dressing. This was extremely moreish and a real eye-opener for me - the earthy sweetness of crunchy new season's bamboo shoots (symbolising prosperity as they grow very quickly) and fresh briny taste of firm raw squid were brought together most unexpectedly yet effectively by a rich and velvety white miso dressing blended with finely crushed kinome. This complex Japanese pesto of sorts (with absolutely no cream, oil or vinaigrette) was sweet, savoury, distinctively aromatic and mildly spicy all at once. Apparently, in Japanese home cooking it is most commonly tossed into bamboo shoots when these become available, although it is also versatile enough to accompany sashimi and other raw vegetables, which would explain this preparation in front of us. I am definitely going to try making this tasty and healthy dressing myself at home soon.


海鼠腸(鶉の子付き)

Finally, salted sea cucumber entrails with a runny quail yolk. The delicacy known as shiokara 塩辛 involves heavily salting the viscera of marine animals before allowing them to ferment for up to a month in closed containers. Some shiokara, such as this one from sea cucumber, have special names ('konowata' in this case). This was the only thing I really couldn't enjoy this evening; it was extremely slimy and had an overwhelming fishy odour, which was only barely tempered by breaking and mixing in the runny yolk. Like natto (fermented soybeans), shiokara is certainly one of those acquired tastes. After quickly gulping it down, I immediately tried to wash off the smell in my mouth by gargling with, and swallowing a few mouthfuls of tea. Once is probably enough for this fermented stuff.


煮物

A smaller boiled dish in an intricate blue porcelain cup and saucer followed soon after we had finished the hassun, presumably as both a breather and a transition into the next large main course of crab.


棒鱈の炊合せ(里芋、柚子、絹莢付き)

For now it was dried cod simmered in soy sauce, with taro, shredded yuzu rind and snow peas, in a light clear broth. I actually enjoyed the accompaniments more than the rather dry and tough piece of cod (though to be fair, it was still quite tasty). This dried cod is another representative osechi dish, symbolising hopes for an abundant diet, and its Japanese name 'tara' is part of the adverb 'tarafuku' 鱈腹 (lit. 'cod belly'), meaning 'to one's heart's content'. At Kichisen, the dried cod is first reconstituted by soaking in water for two weeks, then simmered in soy sauce on a low heat for two days. The mouthfuls of fish felt much better when taken with its sweetish simmering broth.

On a more positive note, the taro was amazingly soft and fluffy, with none of the heavy starchiness that one normally associates with this root vegetable. Symbolically, one taro plant produces many roots, and hence is eaten with a wish for children in mind. The snow peas were delicately sweet and had a lovely juicy crunch. The yuzu rind was, needless to say, both delightful and essential at this point, with its strong citrusy aroma to freshen the palate before the following pièce de résistance.


And finally! A member of the kitchen staff came in together with our waitress, carrying a large dish containing most of the crab's legs, on a bed of snow with pine needles. She had a portable charcoal stove and all the necessary utensils with her, and proceeded to set the stage for our main course.


Accompanying this main course of crab done different ways was a luxurious dipping sauce of kani miso 蟹味噌 (lit. 'crab miso'), which refers not to actual miso paste, but to the innards of the crab, cooked in the shell with its natural juices and a touch of sake over an open flame, resulting in a creamy greyish green sauce. No part of the crab was wasted. The bittersweet crab miso is widely considered by the Japanese to be the tastiest part of a crab (not just Matsuba), and good enough to be eaten on its own. Of course, with the Matsuba crab here it was even more full-bodied and delicious!


焼き蟹

We started off with Matsuba crab legs grilled over a charcoal flame by the kitchen staff who had brought them in. I could already see that the legs were bursting with juices, and as these juices started to sizzle, a sweet and pleasantly charred aroma wafted throughout the room. I could hardly wait.


Under the watchful eye of our chef, the meat was only lightly cooked, retaining all of its naturally sweet juices, tinged with a lovely deeper hint of charcoal from the stove. The meat was firm and springy to the bite, and came off the shell easily by digging with the crab fork - a sure sign of its freshness. When the crab is this good, three thin legs and a small pincer per person seem grossly insufficient.


The stove and serving dish were removed once the grilling had been completed, leaving us with a few moments to finish up the legs. Just as we finished them, our waitress returned with the whole crab shell filled with more kani miso to share! This was such a treat. The rest of the crab was brought in two more small dishes by her young assistant who followed behind.



Unfortunately, she seemed to be in a great hurry to move us along, so the above bowl into which she had initially scooped the greenish grey nectar was really all the extra kani miso we each got. After quick photos of the individual bowls and dishes (including the two below), we had barely started eating when she re-entered the room, perfunctorily scooped two more spoonfuls of kani miso into our bowls, and whisked away the shell with at least a good third left in it. We hadn't even had the chance to help ourselves with that serving spoon. I was too astonished to protest.

Anyway, moving on to the rest of the crab...

蟹蒸し

Steamed and shredded crab meat (from the pincers and body) in its own juices. This generous lump of crabmeat was extremely tender, moist and sweet, with a slightly creamier texture and fattier flavour from the darker body flesh.


蟹刺身 Crab leg sashimi

The last leg was prepared as sashimi, and this was possibly the best illustration of how the Matsuba crab gets its name. 'Matsuba' means pine needles, and you can see from the next photo that the crabmeat naturally flakes outwards, resembling a pine bough. Only the freshest crabmeat may be stripped this beautifully and perfectly from its shell. Touches of soy sauce and wasabi were all that was needed to highlight the crisp delicate sweetness of crabmeat in its raw unadulterated form.


Almost immediately after she had cleared all our dishes, she re-entered the room with her assistant carrying the next course. In fact, she had been shuffling in and out of the room so frequently since the crab course that it was starting to get a little disruptive and annoying, but when I requested that she slow down the pace of the meal, she actually replied that the restaurant closes at 10 pm (it was about 9.15 pm now) so we had to hurry a little instead - not exactly the kind of response I was expecting from a top ryotei, no matter how politely conveyed!

焼物:野生マスの石焼

Wild trout grilled on a sheet of pineapple over a hot stone


Nowadays, due to dwindling habitats wild-caught trout has become much rarer than its farmed counterpart. Just like for salmon, the two may be distinguished by looking at the flesh: due to the use of special feed with growth hormones in order to make them more visually striking, farmed trout is usually a very deep pink or orange in colour, with vivid and evenly-spaced streaks of fat along the grain of the flesh, while wild trout is much lighter in colour, with the streaks of fat less pronounced and somewhat more natural in appearance.

Grilled fish is eaten over the New Year as a prayer for a successful career, and certain fishes possess other specific meanings as well. For example, salmon and trout which swim upstream quickly signifies triumph against adversity as well as rapid promotion. These two chunks were simply lovely: not even a touch of seasoning was required, and the beautiful medium-done pinkish orange flesh was extremely soft and moist, with a characteristic fatty flavour that was considerably more elegant and lighter-bodied than cheaper farmed versions. The sweetness of the pineapple sheet below also came through from the grilling, making the trout seem even fresher and more delectable. I would certainly eat only wild fish if it were available more readily and affordably. (Also, no prizes for guessing which one the truly healthier choice is.)


口直し:サラダ、アボカド柚子ソース

Accompanying the salmon was a Western-style garden salad with avocado & yuzu sauce. This also served as the palate cleanser before the final savoury course of rice and pickles. The refreshing succulent leaves of the ice plant and sweet juicy slices of cherry tomatoes were particularly memorable, especially when mixed with the chunky avocado & yuzu sauce, which possessed a rich and creamy texture, fresh and invigorating aroma, and a delicate and sophisticated balance between sweetness and astringency.


ご飯、香物

Rice and pickles followed with much pomp, in impressive receptacles. The white-and-black ceramic dish was the largest I'd ever seen used just for pickles, and the rice had initially been shown to us from a huge earthenware pot (no time for a picture of that, obviously) before being hastily distributed into the smaller bowls that you see below. Like the earlier kani miso, I noticed that there was still quite a bit of rice left in the pot after that, but our waitress simply put the lid back on and took the pot away, without leaving it for us to help ourselves after the initial serving. Such a shame we couldn't get the full bang for our bucks!

By this time, we were well and truly caught between fascination for the excellent cuisine and irritation at the rushed service. However, it seemed like extremely bad form to reprimand a kindly older person, so we just left it at that and tried to focus on savouring what was given to us.


柚子入りしらすご飯

The delightful aroma of yuzu had already been released into the room when our waitress first showed the rice dish to us from the bigger pot, and now we got a second whiff the moment we lifted the lid from our own bowls of rice steamed with whitebait and a touch of yuzu. The combination of sticky chewy rice, generous amounts of sweet, briny and succulent whitebait, and the fragrance of yuzu was incredibly satisfying and uplifting. It was just too bad that we couldn't have more of this. Oh well, at least we did enjoy every mouthful of our respective small portion while it lasted.


茄子の芥子漬け、蕪と赤蕪の糠漬け、大根なます、 塩昆布

To accompany the rice dish, a variety of pickles (tsukemono) were served beautifully plated. These included eggplant pickled in mustard, baby red radish and turnip pickled in rice bran, shredded daikon pickled in vinegar, and salted kelp. While pickles are usually an afterthought in the cuisine of other countries, they form an integral part of the Japanese diet, and the Japanese have turned pickling into an art form by coming up with deliciously creative ways to preserve their vegetables. Tsukemono are always served with rice as a formal conclusion to the (savoury part of the) meal. They not only lighten up the stomach but also aid digestion, and the ones pickled in rice bran (nukazuke) are particularly beneficial due to the abundant presence of live lactobacillus cultures. I liked them all for their fresh crunchiness and clean taste, and I particularly enjoyed the two slices of salted kelp for their remarkably soft juicy texture, and deep umami with a good balance of sweetness and saltiness.


水物:マール・ド・シャンパン入り静岡産マスクメロン

We were both stunned when the dessert of Shizuoka musk melon with a touch of Marc de Champagne was brought in. One could reasonably expect a slice of this premium melon (retailing for 10,000 yen and up) in a kaiseki dessert - but half a melon each?! Just wow! This melon was utterly ripe and soft, and on its own was already extremely juicy and sweet, but our waitress upped the game by pouring a shot of Marc de Champagne into each centre, so that the melon's flavour became even deeper and fuller-bodied. I simply couldn't imagine a more luxurious way to enjoy fruit.


水物:あまおういちご、ホオズキ

More fruits arrived soon in rectangular glass bowls. The equally juicy Amaou strawberries and physalis were a good contrast to the sweet melon, with their tanginess and mild astringency. They were also plated in what seemed to evoke melting snow - possibly signifying the end of winter?


To freshen the palate once again before the final sweets and matcha, houjicha ほうじ茶 (roasted green tea) accompanied the second course of fruits, in an extremely pretty cup with auspicious red patterns. Houjicha is often known as the after-dinner tea due to its mild refreshing nature. Its lower amount of caffeine compared to normal green tea means that it may even be consumed just before bedtime, as well as by children and elderly people regularly.


和菓子:桜大福、黒みつ寒天

This evening's kaiseki ended in authentic Kyoto fashion with traditional Japanese sweets and matcha (whisked powdered green tea). The sweets always come just before the matcha, in order to counteract the latter's bitterness and astringency. In this classic black lacquered box were placed a cherry blossom rice cake wrapped in cherry leaves, and a cube of brown sugar agar-agar, with a light sprinkling of dew for an additional touch of freshness, like for the opening appetisers. The significance of cherry blossoms was not lost upon me - their use could be suggesting the arrival of spring, while the dew represented for me a fresh start on a clean slate for the year ahead. One might even argue that there was a mini progression of seasons from one dessert to the next; this level of planning and execution could only be the result of a great mind and an almost overzealous attention to detail.

These morsels tasted as good as they looked; the sticky and chewy rice cake (the quintessential Japanese confectionery and a New Year staple) to be eaten as-is with the leaves, had a smooth and delicately sweet red bean paste filling, and each mouthful was perfumed with the lovely floral aroma of cherry blossoms and the fresh smell of the leaves. The latter actually had a surprisingly crisp bite, which added to the variety of textures. The small cube of agar-agar had a deep characteristic taste of molasses due to the use of unrefined Okinawan brown sugar, a central ingredient in many Japanese confectioneries that imparts sweetness without them becoming excessively cloying.


抹茶

Just as we were finishing up the sweets, our waitress returned with frothy whisked matcha in exquisite smooth-glazed teabowls, with elegant and festive symbols of firecrackers, axes and goats' horns painted in dark brown/black and gold. The food was truly amazing to the end - this matcha was extremely aromatic, and smooth on the palate with surprisingly little astringency despite being rather concentrated, hence testifying to its very high quality.



お番茶

Finally bancha, or second flush sencha green tea, normally served at the very end of meals, for refreshment and to aid digestion, similar to houjicha. The aoi (hollyhock) leaf motif from the hassun serving dish appeared once again, now in brown and highlighted even more intricately with gold paint.


This meal came to 32,000 yen per person including 15% service charge, 8% government tax and a 1,000 yen cover charge per person, so do note that these extra fees may bump up the price of your initial order quite significantly.

Just before we left, chef Tanigawa appeared for a brief conversation by the main door. He was very cordial with no airs, and spoke decent English, which left me wondering once again why we'd been given a private room, when I'd requested for a counter seat in order to interact more with him. He mentioned that he had previously visited Singapore for leisure and stayed at the Four Seasons Hotel. 'Singapore is a good country', he said. Haha. He posed for a picture very readily and willingly when asked. Look at his posture - there's that grounded and poised aura typical of someone who is clearly at the top of his profession.

谷河吉巳 Yoshimi Tanigawa

We had experienced some truly stellar cooking tonight, but as mentioned earlier we were rather disappointed by the rushed service, especially from the crab course onwards. There had been two servers, the main person being an older lady who appeared very flustered in her steps and presentation of the dishes, which was rather stressful to witness. I must admit that we could not always get into the right frame of mind to enjoy certain dishes to their fullest, even though their execution had been absolutely flawless, objectively speaking. Apparently, last orders were at 7.30 pm, so we must have been the last party to start (and also to finish, it would seem upon our exit). It may well be this kitchen's policy to close on the dot so it was not entirely her fault, but I really would have appreciated more leeway in timing, especially when one is in a restaurant of this level - the last impression you'd want to convey to the customer is that he is getting in the way of your closing up. Our waitress was also obviously suffering from a cold and not in her best physical state - I'm not sure if the restaurant was short-handed tonight, but ill staff should really be allowed to recuperate at home.

Her assistant, a younger lad, appeared reserved and formal at first but gradually warmed up to us as the dinner progressed. He also tried his best to explain unfamiliar ingredients in English, and even brought out a food dictionary for my enquiries at the end of the meal. Unfortunately, the restaurant was unable to provide a printed/handwritten copy of this evening's kaiseki menu, so I could only try to be as accurate as possible in the description of the courses, using my own records.

In summary, the service certainly had room for improvement by Japanese/Michelin standards but I'd return just for the food. My advice - start an evening kaiseki here latest by 6.30 pm so that you have enough time to savour the meal right till the end. We both agreed that this evening's ingredients had all been top notch and executed with beauty, refinement and sophistication.

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