This evening, after a fruitful day out at historic temples in the outskirts of Nara city, we wound up at Wa Yamamura, in a tranquil residential area a stone's throw away from 新大宮 Shinomiya train station, for the second kaiseki of our trip. Though located on a small street, the restaurant's clean, polished and brightly-lit façade was easily distinguished from that of its neighbouring shops and eateries, from a distance. Its large calligraphic wooden signboard also made for easy identification. This has been the only 3-starred restaurant in Nara Prefecture since the Michelin Guide started including the city and its environs in 2012, and at the time of writing, it also happens to be the most highly-ranked on Tabelog for traditional Japanese cuisine in Nara.
Wa Yamamura was opened in 2003 by Nobuharu Yamamura, who had previously worked his way up over 15 years to the position of head chef at the luxury Nara ryokan Kikusuiro 菊水楼, and then briefly joined the famous main restaurant of Ajikitcho 味吉兆 in Osaka's Shinsaibashi district, before deciding to strike out on his own. He has certainly lived up to his training, and even surpassed the achievements of his former mentors within this relatively short time.
The decorations of the main hallway oozed sophistication and elegance. As soon as we entered, we were welcomed by a very pretty hanging ornament consisting of a golden silk brocade at the end of a red cord with elaborate knots along the way in the form of chrysanthemum petals, as well as a discreet ikebana 生花 (flower arrangement) featuring senryo 千両 berries and suisen 水仙 (narcissus). The former comes from an evergreen plant which bears numerous small fruit in winter, hence symbolising prosperity and longevity, while the latter conveys respect (for customers and visitors) within the traditional Japanese language of flowers, or hanakotoba 花言葉. Both are very popular choices for Japanese New Year flower arrangements.
Like most other kaiseki masters, Yamamura-san possesses a keen interest in other art forms, particularly ikebana (in fact, he does it all himself here) and calligraphy; everything that hangs on the walls of his restaurant is written by past and present abbots of the famous Todaiji Temple in the city centre, with whom he has/had close associations. The work you see in the following photo is by a late former abbot, written in free 'asobi' ('playful') script, and contains at its centre the Chinese character 'kumo' 雲 ('clouds') - referring perhaps to their fleeting and transient nature, a notion which must be very close to the heart of all Buddhists. Yamamura-san would also tell us later that the external signboard had in fact also been inscribed by a (still living) former abbot, now around 95 years of age. The sense of history which permeated these artworks and Yamamura-san's deep personal connections to the people behind them were truly moving to witness.
Of course, the human touch did not stop there. The restaurant as a whole felt extremely intimate and homely, due largely to the fact that it is essentially a small couple-run business. There are only two private rooms for larger groups, and most customers sit at the counter, where they may interact freely with Yamamura-san and his wife. We literally had the best seats in the house, right in front of Yamamura-san himself. The meticulousness with which he prepared his dishes was fascinating to witness, and I got many chances to chat with him and ask questions about the food directly. Throughout the evening, this soft-spoken kaiseki master in his early 60s came across as an extremely humble and unassuming man, with a calm and confident charisma about him.
By contrast, his wife was the life of the party and an extremely warm and amiable hostess, who was capable of making every guest feel right at home very quickly. This dinner service was very busy for a Sunday evening, due perhaps to the fact that tomorrow is the national holiday of 'seijin-no-hi' 成人の日 (Coming of Age Day), and the atmosphere was very lively and casual. The couple was supported by an excellent team of young wait staff, which further contributed to the vibrancy of the place. There was a young lady in particular who spoke some English and had very kindly prepared hand-written translations, on cute little pieces of paper, of all the dishes to be served this evening. As I wasn't entirely confident about names of Japanese ingredients, I had requested for English translations, when making the reservation over the phone with Yamamura-san. I was very grateful that he had gotten one of his staff to help, not being able to speak any English himself. It is the little gestures that matter.
Already, I could not help making comparisons with our experience yesterday evening at Kichisen. While Kichisen's formalised luxury was absent here (no tatami flooring, discreet and dimly-lit corridors, large private rooms, rock gardens, kimono-clad waitresses etc.), in its place we felt a genuine openness and warmth from the beginning. We were loving this restaurant even before the first course had been served.
The mascot of this restaurant is an exquisite wooden doll, in the form of a Noh theatre actor. I thought that it really embodied the spirit of this slow-moving and surreal theatrical form - how beautifully poised the step that it is about to take looks! The doll was made by Kazuyasu Yoshioka 吉岡一泰, a relatively young but impressive artisan whose works Yamamura-san thinks transmit a calm and gentle air. These dolls, also known as Nara-ningyo 奈良人形, are carved from a single piece of wood using the ittobori 一刀彫 technique and covered with gold foil and other mineral pigments. One of the major traditional crafts of Nara, Nara-ningyo are particularly well regarded for their apparent simplicity and historical connection to Buddhism; larger and/or more elaborate works often command extremely high prices. (As a gauge, prices on Rakuten for similar designs by this maker are in the region of 500,000 yen!)
Fortunately, the cost of a meal here is a lot more reasonable. In fact, with all taxes included, a dinner kaiseki starts from only 6,300 yen, and the most expensive option (which I picked) is the special seasonal kaiseki 季節の特別懐石, which starts from 15,750 yen but is unlikely to go beyond 20,000 yen, even in the most expensive of seasons with all the luxury ingredients. We would end up paying slightly under 18,000 yen per person this evening, which is a real steal considering how much more it would cost to have a decent kaiseki in major cities such as Kyoto, Osaka and Tokyo. I was reminded of an excellent kaiseki that we had had last March at another 3-starred restaurant Nakashima in Hiroshima, with a very similar set-up and even lower prices (12,600 yen per person, after taxes, for the most expensive option). It may well be worth the effort to explore fine restaurants beyond the usual gastronomic centres, if value for money is what you're after.
食前酒「赤酒」
We began with akazake, a specialty of Kumamoto (incidentally, the birthplace of Yamamura-san), in which glutinous rice and water are mixed with 麹 kouji (cooked, kneaded and hardened rice inoculated with fermentation culture, the basis of all fermented Japanese food products), then reduced by heating and further fermented with barley malt. Before the resulting mash (moromi) is squeezed and clarified, a mixture of wood and lime ash is added to give the sake its distinctive reddish-brown colour. While not exactly an everyday drink, akazake is particularly popular during the New Year, when people consume it, infused with various herbs, for longevity and warding off evil spirits, in a custom known as お屠蘇 'otoso'. This chilled sake felt fresh and smooth on the palate, and it had a deep taste (a combination of bitterness and spiciness) with a lingering sweet finish. Throat warmed and tastebuds aptly stimulated, I felt ready to embark on this gastronomic journey.
先附：鮑酒蒸、エリンギ、独活、芽甘草、長芋、レモン酢
The stage was set by this lovely appetiser of abalone steeped in sake, blanched and shredded eringi mushrooms and mountain asparagus, fresh licorice bud and Chinese yam, lemon vinegar. The harmonious balance of flavours and the variety of textures in this seemingly disparate combination of ingredients were quite stunning indeed. The abalone which had been simmered in sake was absolutely tender, juicy and sweet - no mean feat for oft-overcooked and rubbery shellfish. Abalone is the most precious and expensive shellfish in Japan, and is usually found in finer restaurants, or pre-cooked and packed for gifting purposes over the New Year period, as it has been symbolic of good fortune since the ancient days of royalty and the samurai class. On the other hand, the fungi and vegetables provided a delicate earthiness and fuller body to the dish. Their fine white shreds also resembled the white hair of older people, and by extension, represented health and longevity. I also loved the crunchy gooeyness of the small ball of Chinese yam (nagaimo in Japanese) and the mild bittersweet taste of fresh licorice. The latter's vibrant green sprouts were particularly outstanding within this rather monochromatic dish, and symbolise growth and development. The surrounding pool of lemon vinegar brought the whole dish together perfectly with a delightfully sweet and citrusy finish in every mouthful. There was no component in this appetiser which threatened to overpower the others; every ingredient had its place and was precisely executed, resulting in a whole that was greater than the sum of its parts. The significance of the bowl, with its pine trees signifying resilience and longevity, was also not lost upon us.
椀盛（お雑煮）
The next dish was a traditional Japanese New Year soup (ozouni) with a piece of grilled rice cake. Originating from the samurai class during the Muromachi period, ozouni is now considered the most auspicious part of New Year cuisine or osechi-ryori お節料理.
The exquisite black lacquered bowls used to contain our soup were made in Wajima in Ishikawa Prefecture. They were my favourite tableware of the evening. Wajima lacquerware or Wajima-nuri 輪島塗 is considered the finest lacquerware in Japan. Bowls like these usually look extremely plain on the outside, but the real surprises are on the undersides of their lids; elaborate designs are often painted in gold (known as 'maki-e' 蒔絵), with the most expensive pieces even containing a background of scattered gold dust (known as 'nashiji' 梨地: lit. 'pearskin' due to the similarities in appearance and texture). Hiding the best part of a lacquered work where one least expects to find it, is also a demonstration of the ideals of humility and discretion that permeate Japanese culture and society.
The two lids we had this evening contained auspicious New Year symbols of fans and cranes. Honestly, I just wanted to take them home, and I could never bear to use these beautiful pieces for any purpose other than decorating my display case. I haven't seen lacquerware of this quality even in posh Japanese department stores.
車海老入蕪万十、焼き餅、鶯菜、人参、柚子、大根（銀箔付き）
Turnip dumpling (made with a mixture of grated turnip and egg white) with a filling of Japanese imperial prawn, topped with a sheet of grilled mochi rice cake, and garnished with baby Japanese mustard spinach (also known as 'bush warbler vegetable' because of the similarity in colour as well as in the shape of the root to its beak), yuzu rind, carrot, daikon and silver leaf, in a dashi broth infused with a touch of yuzu.
Yamamura-san explained that these colours and ingredients are representative of New Year cuisine, and that a bowl of soup served to guests during this period should always contain them. This warm soup was extremely comforting and tasty; the quality of the homemade dashi was evident. Also, once the lid was lifted, the invigorating and unmistakable aroma of yuzu struck us - followers will know by now that this is one of my favourite smells! Within the soup, I particularly loved the turnip dumpling for its soft and fluffy exterior containing a large, sweet and succulent whole prawn - how luxurious that felt! The thin sheet of grilled mochi was also very pleasant, with a soft chewy texture and a mild charred aftertaste. This soup was indeed every bit as good as it looked.
揚物：虎魚の頭部骨
Our next course was deep-fried head bones of scorpion fish served with sudachi (a Japanese citrus fruit very similar to lime), in anticipation of the next sashimi course. These were extremely light, crispy and aromatic - everything went down so easily without the slightest hint of pricklyness from tiny bones. A squeeze of puckering and bitter sudachi juice was most effective in neutralising any sense of grease. The green celadon plate on which this course was served had an elegant simplicity, in contrast to the elaborate lacquerware for the previous soup course.
お造り：虎魚の薄造り（皮、肝臓、胃袋付き）・ 唐辛子、長芋、ポン酢
While we were finishing up the deep fried bones, the sashimi of scorpion fish, with skin, liver and tripe, was served with spicy grated radish, balls of Chinese yam and ponzu.
I mentioned how similar this was to fugu in texture and presentation, and Yamamura-san, while agreeing, opined that this fish is in fact rarer and more delicious than fugu. Indeed, these very thin slices of fish had a slightly sweeter taste than the fugu which I've tasted so far. The bite was firm, meaty and succulent. Gelatinous and crunchy slivers of skin, and rich and creamy innards provided further textures and flavours. Yamamura-san advised us to mix all the spicy grated radish and chopped scallion with the small bowl of ponzu on the side (not pictured), and then eat the flesh and other parts after dipping generously into this mixture. The result was a heightened sense of freshness due to the astringency of the ponzu and the spiciness of the radish, with an additional subtle aroma from the scallion. Finally, after finishing all of the fish, the three balls of nagaimo were an effective palate cleanser with their crunchiness and clean taste. Together with the previous deep-fried course, this was a truly enjoyable first experience with scorpion fish.
お造り：伊勢海老など
But this was not all for the sashimi course; shortly after our plates for the scorpion fish had been cleared, an enormous Hagi ceramic tray was placed on the counter between us, and this contained an impressive array of raw seafood on ice, including a whole Ise lobster and various other fishes, to share. The 'bowls' for the fishes were also shaped out of real snow-like ice. The lobster flesh had actually been separated from its body while the latter was being boiled (for the head which we would be getting later), then the entire lobster was chilled and reconstituted. Just look at that beautiful deep red cooked shell contrasting with the translucent and glistening raw flesh; what a tantalising way to present this premium crustacean! Lobster holds a special significance for the Japanese over the New Year, for its auspicious red colour (when cooked) as well as its curved body, which represents the bent backs of elderly people, and hence a wish for longevity. In fact, the shimekazari しめ飾り which is placed on the front door of Japanese homes over this period typically includes a paper lobster within its array of decorative hang-ons.
Ise lobster had always been on my bucket list for sashimi and I was absolutely delighted to be getting it here at last. True to what I have seen and heard so much about enjoying it best when raw, the flesh which had been sliced into lovely big chunks was extremely sweet and had a firm springy bite. The lobster itself was surprisingly large and yielded more than enough flesh for the two of us. Utter indulgence!
お造り：大トロ、あこう ・ 菊花、芽紫蘇、南瓜、人参 ・ 浜防風、莫大海寒天（漢方薬）
In the ice bowl: fatty tuna belly and red rockfish (a deep-sea winter fish) sashimi, with garnishes of chrysanthemum flower, young perilla shoots, pumpkin and carrot. There were also two unusual herbal additions, commonly found in Traditional Chinese Medicine: glehnia (a remedy for coughs) and a jelly made from the flesh of the malva nut (for sore throats, phlegm and coughs). The latter had a subtle bittersweet taste and an aroma akin to Japanese pricklyash (kinome). The fatty tuna belly was incomparable - instantly melt-in-the-mouth and incredibly smooth and creamy with a full-bodied oily taste.
お造り：平目、あこう
In the other bowl: flounder, and more rockfish. The latter is actually very similar to another deep-sea fish, the Golden Eye Snapper (kinmedai), but with an even richer and oilier flavour. By contrast, the flounder was much lighter in taste; its firm and lean flesh had a delicate sweetness that emerged gradually as I chewed on it, and the soy sauce and fresh wasabi on the side were particularly effective in enhancing the taste of this fish.
For this part of the sashimi course, we ate out of very pretty little serving dishes painted with pictures of Noh actors (one for the lobster and the other for the fishes). The freshly grated wasabi had a pleasant fibrous texture, and an invigorating (but not piercing) spiciness with a mildly sweet aftertaste.
The rim of the dish on the left has been expertly repaired with gold lacquer, using a traditional Japanese technique known as 'kintsugi' 金継ぎ, that is usually reserved for pieces of particular artistic and/or historical value, and embraces their imperfections as an integral part of their inherent beauty. We might have been eating out of vintages/antiques...!
イカ
Complimentary squid sashimi courtesy of Yamamura-san - this was very tender, sweet and creamy. Squid can be quite rubbery and difficult to work through even when raw, so this was really as good as it gets!
八寸
Meanwhile we observed that another impressive platter was being assembled behind the counter, and sure enough, about 10 minutes after we had finished all the sashimi, this breathtaking work of culinary art was presented to us, complete with auspicious fern fronds and mizuhiki. This was the hassun, an assortment of bite-sized seasonal delicacies, and a sort of central climax within a kaiseki.
All the little dishes will be described individually:
数の子、車海老、玉かま、ちしゃとうの味噌漬け、丹波黒豆の甘露煮
Pickled herring roe, Japanese imperial prawn, boiled fish paste with egg, Chinese lettuce stem marinated in miso, Tanba black beans cooked in syrup: as expected I loved the black beans, which were large, soft, crunchy and sweet. The lettuce stem had an astonishing juiciness without the slightest hint of rough fibres, and its natural delicate sweetness was well enhanced by a deeper umami from the miso marinade. The fish paste was also memorable for its rich taste and soft velvety mouthfeel, enhanced effectively by the addition of egg yolk into the mixture, which resulted in a further creaminess and even fuller-bodied flavour.
サゴシ生鮨、穴子真丈、手網なます（人参、大根）、一寸豆（空豆）
Young Spanish mackerel sashimi, steamed conger eel fish cake, carrot and daikon twirl, fava beans: the mackerel had been lightly cured and its strong oily odour had been tempered just nicely, so that it tasted clean and fresh without its natural flavour being undermined. In this dish I enjoyed the two pieces of fish cake best, as the sweet and fatty flavour and creamy texture of conger eel (anago) had been well captured; there was even a thin layer of real anago sandwiched between the thicker outer layers of fish cake. Also, the fast-moving eel symbolises rapid promotion and professional success. Finally, the fava beans, a Kumamoto delicacy also known as 'otafuku-mame' お多福豆 (lit. 'fortune beans') are a common sight in osechi-ryori.
田作り、からすみ入大根、板矢黄味、トコブシ
Dried anchovies cooked in soy sauce and sugar, botargo sandwiched between slices of daikon, shellfish coated and grilled with an egg mixture, small abalone: this was undoubtedly the most luxurious dish within the hassun. Botargo, or karasumi as it is known here, is one of the three most highly regarded chinmi (pickled seafood delicacies) of Japan, and we each had a pretty generous slice here, sandwiched between layers of fresh daikon. The contrasts in taste and texture, between the sweet and juicy daikon and the rich, salty and velvety karasumi, were simply out of this world. The abalone, a particularly small species known as tokobushi, had been simmered in fish broth and soy in a preparation known as nigai 煮貝, and was remarkably tender and succulent, with a deep umami befitting its dark colour. Another piece of fresh, juicy and tasty shellfish was enhanced by a rich and creamy egg coating, and the whole morsel carried a pleasant charred aroma and aftertaste from grilling. Finally, the dried anchovies, a staple of osechi-ryori, are called 'tazukuri' (lit. 'making rice fields') in Japanese, and signify hopes for a bountiful harvest. In the Edo period, these dried anchovies would have been used as a fertiliser to enrich the soil. On the whole, this was a most sophisticated combination of delicacies which punched well above their apparent weight.
胡麻豆腐
Sesame 'tofu' with light soy sauce and wasabi: despite its name and tofu-like appearance, this staple dish of shojin-ryori 精進料理, or Japanese Buddhist vegetarian cuisine, actually has nothing to do with soymilk; it is made from a mixture of ground sesame paste, water and kuzu 葛 (arrowroot) starch powder, heated into a thick custard-like consistency and then allowed to chill and set in a refrigerator over a few hours. Here, the sesame contributed the 'tofu''s characteristic white colour and mild nutty taste, while the kuzu powder was an effective thickener which gave the 'tofu' its gelatinous, starchy, and solid but delicate body. The main differences between this and real tofu were, for me, the much lighter taste and somewhat richer mouthfeel (perhaps due to starch) of the former. It was served with a touch of soy sauce and wasabi, essential for strengthening its muted flavour; incidentally, this is also how the Japanese usually enjoy it.
Sesame 'tofu' with light soy sauce and wasabi: despite its name and tofu-like appearance, this staple dish of shojin-ryori 精進料理, or Japanese Buddhist vegetarian cuisine, actually has nothing to do with soymilk; it is made from a mixture of ground sesame paste, water and kuzu 葛 (arrowroot) starch powder, heated into a thick custard-like consistency and then allowed to chill and set in a refrigerator over a few hours. Here, the sesame contributed the 'tofu''s characteristic white colour and mild nutty taste, while the kuzu powder was an effective thickener which gave the 'tofu' its gelatinous, starchy, and solid but delicate body. The main differences between this and real tofu were, for me, the much lighter taste and somewhat richer mouthfeel (perhaps due to starch) of the former. It was served with a touch of soy sauce and wasabi, essential for strengthening its muted flavour; incidentally, this is also how the Japanese usually enjoy it.
雲子（タラの白子）
Blanched cod milt with spicy grated radish and spring onion, in ponzu sauce: this sperm sac of cod (shirako) was very soft, smooth and creamy on the palate, like a good egg custard or warm butter, and tasted delicately sweet, with just a very slight tinge of fishiness to remind one of its oceanic roots. Admittedly this is an acquired taste, but I absolutely love this delicacy, which is best in winter just before the cod are due to spawn in spring. The shirako was served to us in a simplest and most traditional preparation with ponzu and the usual condiments of chopped spring onions and grated radish. For me, this was the best way to do it as it highlighted the freshness of the shirako and enriched its mild flavour without overpowering it. The shirako's naturally melt-in-the-mouth buttery texture was also largely preserved, with just a firming up of the outer membrane from blanching so that it still had a certain bite.
海老味噌：贅沢な味！
While we were finishing up the hassun, the head of the lobster from the earlier sashimi course came back, halved for each of us - because it would have been a waste to throw away the best part! Look at all that creamy yellowish-green tomalley! This 'lobster miso', as the Japanese call it, had a full-bodied flavour very similar to the Matsuba 'crab miso' in yesterday evening's kaiseki at Kichisen, but was somewhat thicker in texture and sweeter in taste. There was also a good amount of meat left, which remained firm and juicy after cooking.
蒸物：生雲丹、玉子、銀杏、百合根、柚子
A short break followed before the next course was served: this was a steamed egg custard (chawanmushi) with fresh sea urchin, ginkgo nuts, lily bulb, and a sprinkling of yuzu rind in the dashi broth.
Anyone who's had Japanese food knows the popular side dish of chawanmushi, but this was clearly no ordinary steamed egg. Just like for the earlier soup course, the moment the lid was lifted, the wonderful fresh aroma of yuzu struck us. The only obvious hint of luxury was a generous lump of sea urchin in the centre, which was extremely sweet and creamy, but so much more lay within the soft and silky smooth egg. There were several whole ginkgo nuts, whose succulent and chewy flesh imparted a pleasant bittersweetness to the dish, and peeled sections of lily bulb, which contributed a refreshing sweet taste and a soft, mildly starchy and crunchy bite. On the whole, this small portion of chawanmushi was a lot more substantial than it looked. An ample pool of clear dashi broth topped the egg, enhancing the delicate flavours of this dish with a lovely deep umami.
Incidentally, ginkgo nuts and lily bulbs are popular ingredients in Japanese and Chinese cuisine, not only for their taste, but also for their medicinal properties. Both are used to relieve symptoms of various respiratory illnesses, and according to Chinese medicinal theory they also work in perfect yin-yang harmony, with ginkgo nuts being considered 'warming' or yang in character, and lily bulbs being considered 'cooling' or yin in character.
焼物、冷物（口直し）
Following the excellent chawanmushi, the next two courses, one grilled dish and one cold dish arrived together.
The grilled fish was served on a beautiful plate with an auspicious stylised crane design. The majestic crane (tsuru 鶴 in Japanese) is the most highly regarded symbol of health, longevity and good luck in Japan, featuring prominently in many areas of art and culture (kimono-making, painting, traditional theatre etc.), and its appearance here over the New Year seemed especially apt.
焼物：真名鰹の西京焼、温玉、蕪甘酢漬け
Here we had Kyoto-style grilled silver pomfret, with a firm flesh and rich fatty flavour best enhanced by grilling with saikyou miso, as the kitchen had done here. Silver pomfret is found predominantly in Western Japan (Nagasaki and Okayama Prefectures), and is considered a premium white fish particularly in the Kansai region. The best seasons for silver pomfret in Japan are from winter to early summer, and due to its high market price, only finer restaurants here can afford to serve it. Interestingly, it is also a prized food fish within the Singaporean Chinese community, particularly amongst the Teochews, who love to eat it steamed with salted mustard greens and plums, mushrooms, shredded ginger and a touch of Chinese wine. My mother's family is Teochew so I've had a lot of this over the years, but this Japanese preparation was a first for me.
Marinated for days in a mixture of saikyou miso (a sweet white miso produced only in Kyoto), sake and mirin then grilled, this fillet was utterly delicious, with the marinade integrating seamlessly into every single bit of the smooth melt-in-the-mouth flesh. The lightly browned top, from remnants of the miso marinade, was both beautiful to look at and contributed a pleasantly charred aftertaste. The fish was paired with mini 'skewers' of an egg yolk pickled in miso (like salted egg - yummy!), and a cube of turnip pickled in sweet vinegar (crunchy, juicy and clean-tasting - great for freshening up the palate at the end of this dish).
Incidentally, grilled fish is typically eaten over the New Year as a wish for professional success, and this method of preparation, known as saikyou-yaki, is representative of the Kyoto region. It works brilliantly with any fatty fish, though the black cod (known as 'gindara' 銀鱈 in Japan) is most commonly used.
冷物（口直し）
Cold dish (palate cleanser)
帆立貝、菜の花、土筆、レモン酢ゼリー
For refreshment after all the preceding courses, and to lighten up the stomach before the arrival of rice and dessert, we had a lovely palate cleanser of scallop sashimi, blanched rape blossoms, horsetail, and lemon vinegar jelly. The delicate balance between the juicy sweet scallops and mildly astringent soft citrus jelly was masterfully achieved, while the rape blossoms and horsetail provided a pleasant fresh crunch.
I was ready for the final part of this evening's kaiseki!
焚合
In accordance with the usual progression of a kaiseki meal, a final savoury course - a simmered dish in this case - was served before rice. The blue-and-white porcelain bowl used here was designed prominently with the word 'fuku' 福, representing good fortune for the year ahead.
新筍、海老芋、けんちん巻き、木の芽
The ingredients within the bowl were equally laden with New Year symbolisms of progeny, growth, success and good health: there were young bamboo shoots, chunks of Kyoto taro (a special cultivar with a curved and striped body, hence its other name 'prawn taro'), a steamed wrap of deep-fried tofu skin with a filling of mashed tofu, carrot and burdock (an adaptation of Chinese temple cuisine, known as 'kenchin-maki'), in a light and clear root vegetable broth, garnished with Japanese pricklyash (kinome). I loved the bamboo shoots for their juicy crunchiness and earthy sweetness, the taro for its remarkable lightness, and the surprisingly tasty simmering broth, which had absorbed the essence of everything in this bowl.
A longer break ensued, during which we received a completely unexpected gift from Yamamura-san - a handwritten menu for the evening in beautiful calligraphic script, complete with a stamp in red ink from his personal seal, on luxurious gold-speckled Japanese paper. This will definitely be framed and go on a wall at home.
Actually, we had been watching him write something throughout our meal (talk about multi-tasking!) but hadn't known it was intended for us. We were already happy with the simple English translations provided (supplemented by further information in Japanese from Yamamura-san himself - well, whatever I could understand, at least), and this gesture certainly went way beyond our expectations, even by top restaurant standards. I could not thank him enough for this exquisite present, and with characteristic Japanese modesty he simply smiled and dismissed it gently as a 'all in a day's work' kind of thing. However we didn't see him do this for any other guests this evening, so we must have been pretty fortunate that he liked us enough to go the extra mile!
The calligraphy was then kept away, to be returned to us later when we were about to leave. We were now served a new cup of tea with a whimsical design to prepare ourselves for the final rice dishes. I say 'dishes' because at this point, we were offered not one, but FOUR options for rice, by the nice young waitress who had written the translation of the menu on those little pieces of paper, and helped us this evening to the best of her ability, whenever needed. Like the gift of calligraphy, this sheer variety of choices for the rice dish was also a first for us in any kaiseki restaurant. I'd be hard-pressed to imagine any of Yamamura-san's counterparts doing something similar.
While most people treat rice as a mere accompaniment to other dishes, fine Japanese restaurants are usually extremely proud of the rice that they serve, and despite coming at the end, the rice dish is not an afterthought, but accorded due importance as a standalone course, with pickles on the side. Yamamura-san takes this notion even further by offering multiple choices, and it is from seemingly insignificant details like these that one may observe how serious he is about his profession, and how committed he is to providing the best possible experiences to guests.
At first I thought we could only choose one rice dish each, and I had a really hard time deciding as all the four options were so appealing. Sensing my uncertainty, our lovely waitress said, 'you can try everything if you want'. I was in disbelief. 'Really? A little of each maybe?' 'Yes, of course, no problem.' Well well!
Yamamura-san had been listening to our conversation and I think he was both amused and astonished that we still had this much stomach space. In fact, we were starting to fill up, but when the food is this good, you don't want to miss out on anything and leave with regrets.
ご飯、香物（白菜塩漬け、塩昆布）
Henceforth began a unique excursion into the multiple possibilities of rice, accompanied throughout simply with a small dish of salt-pickled cabbage and salted kelp. I adore good Japanese rice, which is soft, sticky and chewy, and I was so glad we did this. The order of serving was by no means random; even here there was a clearly calculated progression from lighter flavours and textures to heavier ones.
湯葉包みご飯
The first of these options was rice wrapped with fresh yuba (tofu skin), in a thick sauce and topped with a touch of wasabi. The Kyoto region is particularly well known for soy products due to the quality of its water sources, and yuba, made by heating soymilk and skimming off the thick surface film that forms, is especially popular amongst the Japanese. Chinese cuisine uses it too, but mainly by rehydrating dried yuba, as dried yuba is easier to transport over long distances and keeps for much longer. But obviously, since we are near to Kyoto, nothing beats having yuba freshly prepared inhouse! Here, it was a perfect foil for the rice, with its silky smooth texture, mild sweet flavour and rich aroma. The surrounding pool of sauce was surprisingly delicate in taste despite its viscosity, and provided both additional weight and support for the two main stars of this bowl. A further drop of wasabi highlighted the freshness of the yuba effectively with its elegant spiciness, and left the palate feeling crisp and the stomach feeling light at the end - such was the remarkable balance achieved within a seemingly heavy and starchy dish.
真菰、牛蒡、椎茸
Next was rice steamed with Manchurian wild rice stems, burdock root and shiitake mushrooms. The first of these were very similar to bamboo shoots in taste and texture, and had been wrongly translated as such on paper - but thanks to the correct corresponding kanji I could verify that they were in fact derived from the swollen stems of the wild rice plant, known as 'makomotake' in Japan. This was a very flavourful and earthy rice dish, and the finely diced/chopped additions provided a lovely bite in every mouthful.
ちりめん
Then, we had rice topped with young sardines that have been boiled, then salted and dried (a preserved condiment known as 'chirimen'), and a touch of Japanese pepper. Dried and seasoned toppings on plain rice are extremely common at Japanese tables, allowing the flavour and texture of both to complement each other and shine through without excessive adornment or preparation. Simplicity can be a very good thing, and the rice here was the perfect backdrop for the chirimen, which felt very similar to tazukuri (the anchovies which had appeared earlier in the hassun), albeit much smaller.
たら子、あられ、海苔、出汁
Finally, we had a rice ball in a clear dashi broth with puffed rice, nori and grilled tarako. This immediately reminded me of the Japanese rice dish ochazuke お茶漬け, in which a broth of green tea and dashi (sometimes even just plain hot water) is poured over a densely-packed lump of cooked rice, usually with savoury toppings as well. This version was slightly heavier, minus the astringency of green tea, and it was my favourite rice dish of the four, with its incredible nutty aroma from puffed rice, and deep umami from nori and tarako. The latter is actually the roe sac of the female cod (remember the sperm sac or shirako of the male cod, from earlier on in the hassun?), which is usually consumed after salting (if red peppers are added during marination, it becomes a popular spicy variant known as mentaiko 明太子). I loved the rich grainy texture of the tarako, and I was also quite impressed by how well the rice had kept its form despite soaking in the broth.
デサート：さちのか苺ぜりー、オーストラリア産マンゴ、デコポンジュース
By this point, we were truly satiated so it was probably a good thing that dessert was kept very light and simple. While I was chatting with Yamamura-san, our waitress brought us each a small plate with two pieces of Australian mango and two thick slices of Japanese (Sachinoka) strawberry jelly encasing real whole strawberries. The mango was very juicy and sweet, while the strawberries and their jelly had a subtle tanginess. For me the real star of the dessert was the small glass of Dekopon juice, made from a large seedless modern Japanese hybrid of mandarin orange with a characteristic bump at the top, extremely sweet and far more highly regarded in Japan than the mikan (common mandarin orange). I can safely say that I have not had a better glass of orange juice. Dekopon season starts in December and peaks in January with fruit of the best quality, so we were pretty lucky to be here now.
Before we left, I couldn't miss taking a picture of this lovely couple who had made this evening so warm, personal and homely for us. Our waitress also enthusiastically offered to take a picture of both of us with the couple - but I'll save that for my own memories!
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| 山村信晴と女将さん Nobuharu Yamamura and his wife |
It was so easy to forget - for all the right reasons - that we had been in the finest restaurant in Nara. Throughout the dinner, Yamamura-san was incredibly patient in explaining ingredients unfamiliar to me, even taking a break from his work to write down their names in kanji on separate pieces of Post-It notes, when things got too difficult for me to understand. Not once did I detect a hint of annoyance; in fact I think he was pleased that a foreigner would be so enthusiastic in learning about the details of traditional Japanese cuisine. We also talked about various topics, from the Japanese restaurant scene here and overseas, to the Japanese economy and way of life. The couple was also very interested in our lives in Singapore and asked us about our jobs, food and travels etc. We might have been the first Singaporeans to set foot here!
It had been a very well-paced meal over nearly 4 hours; we had started at 6.30 pm upon the advice of Yamamura-san when I made the reservation. There was absolutely no pressure to leave even when we finished dessert past the restaurant's official closing time of 10 pm. Portions were ample and we could savour everything to their fullest. A kaiseki experience here is true value for money; it won't break the bank and you can actually afford to return again and again!
When we were about to leave, the handwritten menu, English translations, the restaurant's business card and Yamamura-san's personal name card were all put carefully in a pink envelope, for us to take home as mementos of this wonderful evening. With typical Japanese omotenashi, both Yamamura-san and his wife saw us out personally, made sure we knew our way back to the hotel, and waited till we had disappeared into the distance before going back into the restaurant. I thought that the couple complemented each other perfectly in ensuring the smooth running of the restaurant. The seamless teamwork and positive vibes were difficult to miss; everyone, including the wait staff, seemed genuinely content to be working there. To his young staff Yamamura-san often seemed like a kindly and down-to-earth father figure, rather than a domineering boss.
This might be our first visit, but it won't be the last for sure!
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