Delights of Chugoku (4): Tempura lunch at Tenkou Honten (天甲本店), Hiroshima

This afternoon, just before boarding the Shinkansen back to Fukuoka, we wound up at Tenkou Honten for one last fine meal in Hiroshima. This restaurant is a highly-regarded tempura specialist in the city, and also the sister restaurant of the original and older Tenkou restaurant just streets away. The term 'honten' means main or flagship restaurant, and indeed the one we visited today has outshone its older sibling; despite having been around for less than four years, it has already gained two Michelin stars. Chef-owner Higuchi Kenichi worked in Ten Ichi tempura restaurant in the posh Ginza district of Tokyo for many years, before returning to Hiroshima to set up shop with his wife.

Tenkou Honten is extremely conveniently located off the major covered shopping walkway that ultimately leads to the Peace Park, and as a bonus, it was just a few steps away from our hotel! Reservations were surprisingly hassle-free, and our hotel managed to help us with it at short notice.

We were warmly received into the small restaurant by Higuchi-san's soft-spoken wife, and immediately sensed what an oasis of calm and elegance this was, amidst the hustle and bustle of the shopping street outside. The perfect midday respite, I must say. The beautiful hinoki (cypress wood) counter was particularly arresting, exuding an air of austerity and sophistication. Everything in the restaurant happens along this centrepiece that seats no more than 8 at any time; Higuchi-san cooks and his wife attends to customers' other needs. No other helpers necessary, and the atmosphere was very cosy and intimate. Additionally, we found out to our pleasant surprise that we would be the only customers for lunch today, enjoying the undivided attention of this lovely couple! Higuchi-san's wife appeared to be having a slight flu but this didn't detract in the least from her genuine hospitality.

Lunch omakase here is an extremely reasonable affair at a fixed price of 4,200 yen including taxes. Tenkou Honten serves edomae (old Tokyo)-style tempura, with particular emphasis on the locality and seasonality of ingredients. The deep-frying technique involved in making tempura is not actually indigenous to Japan, and is thought to have come to the country via Portuguese missionaries in the 16th century. I believe anyone who has had Japanese food outside Japan will be familiar with tempura as a side dish, but in Japan it often takes centre stage in specialist restaurants like this one - a first for us, and we were eager to experience what a truly fine and authentic tempura meal would be like.

We started with a whitebait salad with sesame dressing. The concentrated umami of dried whitebait (known as shirasu in Japan) was perfectly matched by the deep roasted nutty flavour of the sesame dressing, while the extremely fresh and crisp salad leaves provided a pleasant sweet edge. A most delightful way to begin - though I must confess to being partial to anything dressed in Japanese sesame sauce; the more the better!

Then, to our suprise, a variety of condiments was laid before us, supposedly for pairing with specific items throughout the meal. There was curry powder, sea salt, fresh lemon juice and oroshi (grated radish). With the exception of the last condiment which is added into ten-tsuyu (the standard tempura sauce made with soy sauce, mirin and dashi), we had never seen the others used with tempura. I was rather intrigued by how the different flavour combinations might work out.

First up on the succession of tempura items: kuruma ebi 車海老 (Japanese imperial prawns). The two prawns' legs were served before the prawns themselves, and all these were to be eaten with lemon juice and sea salt (separately).

The prawns were plucked live from a tank, deftly prepared and thrown into the hot oil by Higuchi-san all within the space of a minute. They don't get fresher than this! The legs were surprisingly crisp and aromatic while the prawns were really sweet and succulent. Dipping in lemon juice enhanced the freshness of the prawns, while dipping in salt enhanced their natural umami.

I had read about how edomae-style tempura uses a slightly heavier batter compared to other regions of Japan, but even so I was struck by how light and thin the batter was here compared to tempura typically found outside Japan. As you will see from the subsequent courses, if there was one revelation from today's meal, it was that tempura items are not meant to be drowned in batter, unlike the deep-fried mess that is fish and chips in Britain. Quite the contrary - their natural colours, textures and flavours should be allowed to shine through the batter as much as possible, with the brief frying process (sometimes lasting for just a few seconds) enhancing their characteristics, instead of negating them with excess grease. The koromo or batter cloak should be almost transparent, this being a test of the chef's craft. The batter itself is always made in small batches just before frying in order to ensure freshness and crispness, and items are dipped (not thrown) into the hot oil only one or two at a time in order not to disturb the oil's temperature. The quality of the oil (a combination of vegetable and sesame oil) is obviously paramount - here there wasn't any trace of an oily stench, which often results from inferior and constantly re-used oil (just think of how fast food restaurants smell). We were really looking forward to what might come next.

Taranome タラの芽 (new shoots of the deciduous Japanese angelica tree). Taken with curry powder.

Particularly prized by the Japanese for tempura in spring, this morsel was very crunchy and juicy (like asparagus), with a bitter edge characteristic of mountain vegetables. Curry powder not only matched this bitterness very effectively, but also intensified the delicate flavour of the shoot appropriately.

Shiitake mushroom, layered with scallop and minced prawn. To be dipped (not soaked, as many foreigners erroneously do) in a bowl of ten-tsuyu with oroshi.

One of my favourite items in today's lunch, and so tempting to look at! Underneath the crisp and feather-light batter that barely covered these large chunks, plump and aromatic mushrooms were combined with sweet and juicy seafood to generate an incredible explosion of textures and flavours, as my teeth sank through the different layers. Dipping into the ten-tsuyu made this gem even more tasty, while oroshi contributed a clean aftertaste to each mouthful. This was comfort food at its most luxurious and sophisticated.

Kisu 鱚 (Japanese whiting), also to be dipped in ten-tsuyu with oroshi.

This generous and beautifully symmetrical piece of fish had a delightfully soft and moist texture, and a delicate sweet flavour that was effectively enhanced by the gossamer batter and the frying process. Utterly delicious and satisfying.

Asparagus, cut in two halves and taken with sea salt and ten-tsuyu separately.

This typical spring vegetable was amazingly sweet, juicy and crunchy. Taken with a pinch of sea salt, its sweetness was immediately heightened; dipped in ten-tsuyu, it acquired a lovely deep aftertaste. Of course, the crisp batter could not have been more texturally apt. Shame that we could only have a single stalk each!

Megochi めごち (flathead), taken with lemon juice and sea salt separately.

Higuchi-san proudly announced this fish as 'saikokyu' 最高級 - the finest offering of our lunch. This was quite similar in texture to the earlier whiting, but its flavour went far deeper. Paired very simply with lemon juice or sea salt, in order not to detract from the taste of this highly sought-after premium fish, its freshness and intensity were immediately evident.

Soramame 蚕豆 (broad beans), taken with ten-tsuyu and oroshi.

These spring beans were remarkably sweet, crunchy and delicate, and given a pleasant freshness and depth of flavour by their dip. However, I couldn't help feeling that this course had been somewhat spoiled by its relatively heavy and chunky batter, compared to everything that had come before. Perhaps it was necessary in order to 'connect' and 'stick' the beans together, but still..!

Nasu 茄子 (eggplant), taken with sea salt.

I am familiar with the Kyoto dish of nasu dengaku (roasted eggplant with a miso glaze), and knowing the quality of Japanese eggplants I was quite excited about this one. Indeed, this baby eggplant was very sweet, with a rich and juicy texture that contained no traces of grease whatsoever - very impressive considering how easily this vegetable absorbs oil (I'm just thinking of the typical Chinese dish of claypot eggplant and salted fish - very tasty but artery-clogging!). This was astonishingly clean-tasting despite having gone through the fryer. Almost as memorable as the earlier mushroom course!

Anago 穴子 (conger eel), each half to be taken with either curry powder or ten-tsuyu & oroshi.

Though not quite as melt-in-the-mouth as the one we had in Nakashima two nights ago, this was still pleasantly tender and moist, with a delicate sweetness, underneath the fragrant and translucent batter. Curry powder was of course a good flavour enhancer, while you can't really go wrong matching the natural umami of seafood with ten-tsuyu. On the whole, another substantial and satisfying course.

A short break as we waited for the last savoury course.

We finished the savoury part of the meal with a rice dish, as is customary for fine meals in Japan. Remarkably, four options are offered, but Higuchi-san recommended the ten-don and ochazuke, which we gladly accepted.

Ten-don 天丼, rice topped with a shrimp and scallop kakiage (a kind of tempura). Served with miso soup and pickles.

This was my choice and Higuchi-san's primary recommendation for people with healthy appetites (such as yours truly!). Steamed rice lightly seasoned with ten-tsuyu was topped with a kakiage (fritter) of prawns, scallops, onions and other vegetables, all finely cut/sliced before combining roughly with batter and setting into a disc-like shape in the fryer, turning back and forth to ensure even cooking and browning throughout the thick piece. The main difference between kakiage and standard tempura batter is that the former uses whole eggs for better texture and taste (due to its longer frying time), while the latter uses only egg yolks to keep the coating very delicate and unobstrusive to the main ingredient (as you have already seen).

What pure comfort food this was! The kakiage had an incredibly sweet taste from the succulent shrimps and scallops, while the onion and batter contributed truly lovely aromas. On the whole this fritter was not quite as crisp as the previous items coated in standard tempura batter, but this is to be expected generally, considering the heavier usage of batter as well as its slightly different composition. The seasoned rice, firm and slightly sticky, was tasty and obviously of very high quality, while the miso soup had a really deep and intense flavour. Crunchy and clean-tasting pickles finished this opulent rice dish on a very fresh and light note.

Ochazuke お茶漬け, similar to ten-don, but with hot green tea poured over the kakiage encasing a smaller ball of rice, and topped with shreds of nori (seasoned dried seaweed).

This was what Higuchi-san recommended to my partner, who had wanted something lighter after all that fried stuff. (No accompaniments for this one.) This was remarkably delicate despite the fried topping, and each mouthful was perfumed with the fragrance of a superb green tea that had minimal astringency and a pleasant umami. Texturally, however, this bowl was rather less appealing; the rice in tea was alright (just like a porridge) but the kakiage had all but turned pale and soggy from having had the tea poured over it (and then partially submerging in it). I'm sure this dish was authentic but I would probably not order it for myself. My partner liked it though for its overall lightness and the sheer quality of the green tea broth.

Dessert was simply homemade yokan 羊羹, a very traditional Japanese jellied red bean delicacy typically shaped in long rectangular blocks, to be portioned at one's discretion. This was delightfully thick in texture (more like a solidified paste than gelatinous), bursting with the concentrated goodness of red beans, and to our pleasant surprise not cloyingly sweet, like many inferior versions are in order to mask their lack of real substance. One small chunk was all we needed to feel extremely contented.

In the meantime, our final drink was being prepared:

Higuchi-san whisks our matcha while we're having dessert.

Beautiful tea bowl

Maccha 抹茶 or powdered green tea is a digestif of sorts in the Japanese fine-dining context, usually coming after dessert to mitigate the immediate effects of the tea's characteristic bitterness. Traditionally, it is also the focus of the Japanese tea ceremony, which involves whisking with a bamboo brush to frothy perfection (that's much harder than it looks!) and presenting it in a highly ritualised manner. Of course the atmosphere was much more casual here, but the tea was still no less precisely executed - beautifully green and foamy on top, fresh and bitter in taste, and in just the right amount to cleanse the palate in three mouthfuls. We finished this sumptuous lunch feeling extremely fresh and rejuvenated.

The lovely couple!

The small and elegant hinoki counter - reservations are
probably a good idea if you're thinking of dinner.

It had been a very restful midday break and we really enjoyed the attentive and warm service of the couple. They had been somewhat reserved at the beginning, but warmed up to us quickly during the meal as I spoke to them about my love for Japanese food. We felt very much at home. Little details from the ever-watchful Higuchi-san, such as providing a new sheet of absorbent paper on our serving dish every few courses once he noticed the oil spots accumulating, were not lost upon us. Our teacups were also being constantly and discreetly refilled by his wife standing at the side.

I suppose this place would be much more popular at dinner since people have to work during the day, but lunch is incredibly good value for money if you can make it. Portions were good and the quality and variety of ingredients were beyond doubt. It had also been a novel experience for us to pair different dips to different ingredients, instead of just using one generic sauce with radish for the whole meal.

Higuchi-san is very humble and friendly, and he speaks enough English to tell you what you're eating and how to eat it, but you'll get so much more out of the experience interacting with him in Japanese like I did, despite not being entirely fluent. We talked about various things such as his love for Chinese dim sum and Japanese food overseas. I also mentioned what fantastic value fine meals in Hiroshima were compared to, say, in bigger cities like Tokyo, and Higuchi-san answered that cost prices of high-quality ingredients and operating costs notwithstanding, chefs should always set their prices reasonably ('it is a matter of conscience'), instead of going all out to profiteer especially with the advent of the Michelin Guide in Japan - a reply that spoke volumes about his noble character. He even offered to waive the customary 5% tax for us - a small but kind gesture. Finally, we were sent on our way in the same manner in which we had been received two hours ago - very warmly and gently - by his wife. The whole lunch had been such a feel-good experience, and I will certainly be back if I am ever in Hiroshima again!

Address in kanji: 広島県広島市中区堀川町4-2

Tel.: (81) 82-249-8665

Open daily for lunch (11:30 am - 2 pm) and dinner (5:30 pm - 11 pm), except Sundays and over the New Year period.

Delights of Chugoku (3): Oysters galore at Kaki-ya (牡蠣屋), Miyajima - and more bites thereafter!

Today we travelled to Miyajima, an offshore island about 45 minutes by local train and ferry from Hiroshima's city centre, and a popular day-trip option for visitors to the city. Landmarks include the UNESCO site Itsukushima Shrine with its famous torii gate that seems to rise out of the waters at high tide, due to the connecting coastal area being submerged.

Miyajima is also famous for its oysters, and restaurants offering oyster-based cuisine can be readily found along the main Omotesando shopping street. Amongst them Kaki-ya is the most established and popular, serving up to 3,000 oysters, raw or cooked in various ways, on a busy day. The peak season for them lasts from October to March, so we were in for a real treat!

Afraid of potentially long queues (they don't take reservations),we made our way there for an early lunch as soon as we reached the island. Although the ground floor was already filled up with customers at 11 am, to our pleasant surprise we still had the whole of the first floor to ourselves.

Plump raw oysters!

Oysters on a charcoal grill on the ground floor.

Various à la carte options are available together with an extensive sake and wine list (the unique selling point of this restaurant), but if you would like to have a taster of (almost) everything, the way to go would be to ask for the special teishoku (set meal) at 2,000 yen plus tax (not officially printed on the menu). For tourists like us, for whom this would likely be a first and last visit, the choice was obvious.

First up, a starter of two Hiroshima oysters grilled in their shells. A popular dish on Miyajima Island known as yaki-gaki, and also the signature dish at Kaki-ya, these were absolutely plump and juicy, and a sprinkling of coarse sea salt was all that was needed to heighten their fresh and deep umami.

Soon the main meal was brought to us, which consisted of various oyster-based delicacies which I will go through in greater detail below.

Oiled oysters - fresh oysters are first stir-fried in oyster sauce to condense their size and enrich their flavour, then marinated in grapeseed oil to produce Kaki-ya's own version of oyster confit. This morsel was very Chinese-tasting (perhaps due to the oyster sauce), with a deep and slightly piquant flavour, and a surprisingly smooth, rich and creamy texture not unlike a liver pâté.

Crumbed and deep-fried oysters, served with homemade tartar sauce and ketchup. The batter was very crisp and light, and it had sealed in all the oysters' juices, allowing their natural flavour to shine through. It was all lovely, but having had the same dish on Nokonoshima Island just two days ago I couldn't help missing how much larger and more luscious those had been.

Oyster meshi - the rice is cooked in oyster juices in a large earthenware pot at the front of the shop, then oysters simmered in soy sauce are added prior to serving. The rice was very tasty but its portion was really small - that could not have been more than two mouthfuls! The oysters here were not quite as juicy or natural as the grilled or breaded ones, but they were still pleasant, having acquired a good flavour from the simmering process.

Finally, the oyster red miso soup (no close-up) was lovely, with the stronger taste of red miso (as compared to its more common white counterpart) going hand-in-hand with the oysters in the soup.

Kaki-ya also sells bottled oyster-based condiments to go, in case you would like to take a souvenir home for use in your own cooking.

I must confess that both of us left the restaurant barely half-full, as the food, though good, was meagre in portions. However we decided against ordering more food, as there were many other stalls outside selling interesting bites, so we thought it might be a better idea to try as many of those as possible instead.

We first came across this shop Furaido 風籟堂 specialising in roasted chestnuts and supposedly unusual/rare varieties of sweet potatoes (I must say I've never seen purple- or white-fleshed ones). We went for two soft ice-creams with purple and orange sweet potato toppings. The contrast in temperatures was delightful as expected, and the rich starchy texture and earthy sweetness of the roasted sweet potatoes worked perfectly with the ice cream. I personally found the purple variety more intense in flavour (and it is also probably better for you, given its antioxidant-rich colour).

Next was a stall Marukin-honpo ○錦本舗 selling steamed buns. These large and piping hot buns, chock-full with fillings of either local Miyajima anago (conger eel) or Hiroshima beef, were perfect for the unfortunately chilly and drizzly weather we had found ourselves in. We could not have guessed how delicious they were, given their very modest appearance - the anago bun, with a touch of yuzu kosho (a spicy condiment made with yuzu and green pepper) in the filling to maximise its flavour, was so good that we actually went back for a second one! Admittedly at 400 yen per bun it was a little expensive for a street snack, but it was well worth the money.

Now this was the other thing I had actually planned to try in Miyajima besides oysters: deep-fried momiji manju 紅葉饅頭. Miyajima is also a popular maple leaf (momiji in Japanese) viewing location during the autumn, and here the traditional Japanese confectionery manju has been named after the shape of a maple leaf, in which it is cast.

Not surprisingly, this eatery, a branch of the famous Momiji-do 紅葉堂 (more details and a link below), is hugely popular; expect to queue and wait, as everything is prepared to order.

Alright, so the batter and deep-frying had distorted the original shape of the confectionery beneath, but as they say the proof of the pudding is in the eating. Beneath the crispy and aromatic pastry layer lay a really smooth and sweet anko (red bean paste) filling. Not good for your arteries at all, but so incredibly moreish! Anko is of course the main ingredient found in most Japanese sweets, but there are also 2 other options for foreign (Western) tastebuds - custard and cheese.

I would always recommend the anko filling though; it is just so much more authentic and tasty in Japan, made with real azuki red beans (far superior to the normal red beans we use for desserts back home, if you ask me).

Trust me - two aren't enough!

Very cute decoration with that other symbol of Miyajima -
the wild deer roaming the island.

Seating area at the back of the eatery.

The healthier original version of momiji manju is available at Momiji-do's main shop just 100 metres down the road, where this confectionery was invented. After a whole day on the island, we got back to the shop just in time before closing, and bought a box with assorted fillings (custard, almond, anko and chocolate). Having tried all of them, my vote still goes to the anko filling, with the almond (similar to marzipan but less sweet) coming in a close second. (By the way, these freshly-made ones don't keep very long as no preservatives are added; we were advised by the staff to finish them within 4 days.)

One last unusual ice-cream from Momiji-do to wrap up the day - this was momiji-flavoured ice cream, made using Sagotani milk produced on just 7 farms in the countryside west of Hiroshima. The dairy component itself was lovely, but the idea of incorporating the momiji manju pastry mix into the ice cream was not successful; neither of us could detect any additional flavour. Taken on its own terms, this was a very good milk ice cream, but nothing more.

I hope this post has given my readers an idea of what to look out for (food-wise) while visiting this beautiful historic island!

Delights of Chugoku (2): Birthday kaiseki dinner at Nakashima (季節料理 なかしま), Hiroshima

After a whole day of sightseeing in Hiroshima, we headed for what would be one of our gastronomic highlights for this trip: a full kaiseki at the only 3-starred restaurant in Hiroshima Prefecture, Nakashima. Located on the northern edge of the city, close to the end station of one of the tram lines, we made our way there with great excitement. It had actually been my birthday yesterday so this was another reason for the indulgence! :)

We were surprised upon arrival how nondescript the whole set-up was; the neighbourhood itself looked pretty working-class, and it was quite dark in the network of narrow streets in which Nakashima is located. If not for a combination of Google Maps and me spotting unusually bright lights and the noren at a junction, we would have completely missed it. Even the words 'Nakashima' on the top right hand corner, though illuminated, are discreetly obscured by a tall plant. This was proof that the best Japanese restaurants are often nestled in the most unlikely of places!

I should however first tell my readers what a lovely experience I had booking this table before leaving for Japan. I had read that the restaurant is small and tends to fill up quickly, and having found out about it from the Michelin Guide barely a week before departure I could only hope that there was still space for us. I tried to look for a website with online reservations or at least an email address, to no avail. Getting the hotel to help when I arrived in Fukuoka would be too late, I figured.

The only option left, then, was to call the restaurant, which made me quite nervous considering that I had had only 4 months of Japanese lessons prior to this trip. As it turned out, my worries were completely unfounded; the chef's wife who picked up the phone was so incredibly nice and patient, and despite my limited Japanese and her even more limited English I managed to get my booking request through. Major achievement for me personally, and I already felt so welcome before boarding the plane! True service begins the moment you pick up the phone to take a reservation, and as I write this I am recalling my unpleasant initial encounters with the reservations people at similarly 3-starred restaurants such as The Fat Duck in England or Osteria Francescana in Italy; they would do well to learn from the lady boss of Nakashima.

We were struck by the beautiful pieces of artwork as we walked in; as Nakashima-san's wife would tell us later, most of these were drawn or painted by her father-in-law living in Sendai. I suppose this artistic gene flows in Nakashima-san's family; Japanese gastronomy at this level is no less of an art form too!

Two private rooms are available for bigger parties, though I'd prefer being at the counter anytime watching the action in the kitchen and interacting with Nakashima-san and his wife; therein lies a large part of the gastronomic experience.

As with small couple-run establishments in Japan, the atmosphere is cosy and intimate, very different from their opulent kaiseki counterparts in Kyoto such as Kikunoi or Kitcho. We sat by the tiny open kitchen and counted only 4 people - one apprentice, one waitress, and Nakashima-san and his wife - working in the restaurant.

Counter setting

Exquisite chopstick stand

Menu for the evening, handwritten by Nakashima-san.

And this is what we totally weren't expecting: a rough English translation to make it easier for foreigners. They even apologised for their 'poor English'! This was true omotenashi (Japanese hospitality) at the highest level. Full marks for effort!

The lovely touches didn't stop there. When Nakashima-san's wife asked how we found out about them, I replied that I had been looking for a special place during the trip in which to celebrate my birthday. For that, she asked immediately if she could offer us some complimentary sake or juice to start. We requested for juice, and she replied, 'Ah, do you like yuzu?' (Does she read minds or something?!) So there - a large complimentary glass of fresh yuzu juice (and you know how costly this citrus fruit is...) - very kind of them! Totally loving this place already and we hadn't even started the dinner!

When I made the reservation, I had requested for the 12,000 yen set. Nakashima offers three kaiseki options at 8,000, 10,000 and 12,000 yen (before 5% tax) - the lowest prices you'll ever encounter in a 3-star in Japan (or indeed even in the world, if you ask me). No reason to hold back in this case then!

First course: はまぐりとしいたけ酒蒸し steamed hamaguri clam and shiitake mushroom, in a clear dashi broth. The hamaguri came from the Ariake Sea while the shiitake was wild-sourced from Kumamoto Prefecture.

This soup came in a very nice bowl with an auspicious tsuru (Japanese crane) symbol.

A revelation from the beginning! A good dashi stock forms the basis of much Japanese cooking, and this incredibly clear and colourless soup (a testament to its quality) possessed an astonishing umami and earthiness. The clam and mushroom were equally delightful with their firm juicy bite, and fresh and deep flavours. However, the truly inspired touch, like a jewel to the crown, came in the form of a small piece of yuzu rind in the middle; this alone was sufficient to perfume the entire bowl of soup with a subtle zesty aroma. This course was certainly fit for the gods!

Before the second course, our enthusiastic hostess showed us the wasabi (from Yoshiwa in Hiroshima Prefecture) that is used in the restaurant. I don't think I'll ever see a bigger fresh wasabi root in this life! Wasabi is notoriously difficult to cultivate and loses its flavour quickly once it is cut open for grating. It is also extremely expensive, so for any restaurant to keep and use such enormous specimens is nothing short of impressive - quite clearly the quality of the ingredients offered to customers is much more of a priority than their cost price, at least in this case.

Second course: 瀬戸内産平目・よこわまぐろ・福岡産鰆焼霜・大とり貝 sashimi of halibut, baby bluefin tuna, Spanish mackerel and torigai clam. The halibut and clam came from the Seto Inland Sea, the tuna from the Sea of Japan, and the Spanish mackerel from Fukuoka Prefecture.

This sashimi was served in an elegant crystal container with a frosted glass lid, presumably to accentuate the natural colours and apparent freshness of the seafood.

The seafood was all extremely fresh, and two of the fishes stood out here. The baby bluefin tuna, known as yokowa in Japan, had a more delicate taste and tender texture as compared to fully matured tuna. More interestingly, the Spanish mackerel, known as sawara in Japan and considered the best of its kind (especially now that it is in season), was flash-grilled just on the skin to produce a somewhat uneven and frosted look, whilst maintaining a completely raw flesh. Apparently, this is a common method of preparing Spanish mackerel sashimi, known as yakishimo (lit. 'burnt frost'), which is supposed to enhance the natural oily flavours of the fish - and it worked! The two slices here were delightfully firm and succulent in texture and equally rich in taste.

Somewhat unusual garnishes included baby chive, oroshi (grated radish - hidden under the shiso leaf), lily bulb and carrot. The wasabi was of course unparalleled in its clean and delicately piquant taste. I cannot tolerate the cheap fakes mixed with piercingly spicy horseradish or mustard as they completely drown out the taste of whatever fish they accompany, but I can attest to the subtlety and elegance of real fresh wasabi, and I even thought that it had a mildly sweet aftertaste!

The attention to detail doesn't stop here; Nakashima-san's wife proudly informed us when serving the sashimi that even the soy sauce was an original concoction by her husband. Soy sauce made by the Kazuko family of Mukaihara town in northern Hiroshima Prefecture is boiled in-house with plenty of bonito flakes (a similar process to making dashi, minus the kelp) to produce a sauce with an even deeper umami. Indeed, to date this was the most exceptional soy sauce I've had the fortune to taste; its flavour was remarkably warm and subtle, with delightfully smoky and sweet notes. I couldn't resist asking for more wasabi and soy sauce, which our lovely hostess immediately obliged.

(By the way, a lot of foreigners do it wrong when having sushi/sashimi - you are not supposed to mix copious amounts of wasabi into soy sauce to make a gooey paste with which you slather your raw fish. Instead, put a small amount of wasabi on the fish, dip - not drown - it in soy sauce, and enjoy its natural flavour. For the sake of not spoiling perfectly good fish and not disgusting the chef, please learn the proper way to eat your raw fish. I have no idea from where this cardinal sin originated - I mean, can people really taste the fish beneath all that wasabi, especially the fake spicy ones?)

Third course: 鯛の桜蒸し sakura-steamed sea bream in a delicate fish stock. The sea bream was caught in the Oshima district, in southeastern Yamaguchi Prefecture.

This was offered as a 'dish of spring', which was entirely apt considering that we are currently in the transitional period between late winter and early spring. The colourful bowl used for this course was a delightful and cheery precursor of the upcoming season.

Close-up of the interior.

We were advised to eat this in one single mouthful. Sakura (cherry blossom)-infused glutinous rice was encased in a roll of sea bream, then wrapped onigiri-style in a sakura leaf, topped with wasabi, nori (dried seasoned seaweed), and a salted sakura flower, and finally surrounded by a pool of slightly viscous fish broth (not due to thickeners such as cornstarch, but the result of reducing an already concentrated dashi stock). An amazing explosion of flavours and textures ensued as I sunk my teeth into the various layers of this heavenly morsel. The sweet aroma of sakura was unmistakably present for as long as this dish lasted. This was arguably the most sophisticated course of the evening, which was a bit of a shame as it was gone all too soon!

Fourth course: 蒸穴子 steamed anago (conger eel), a very popular local fish in Hiroshima.

Similar to the sashimi course, this was served in an elegant frosted glass bowl, which effectively enhanced the overall look of the fish that it contained.

Of course, this wasn't just any steamed fish; in fact the anago had been chargrilled on the skin prior to steaming, which produced a flesh that was plump and moist, with a lovely caramelised edge. Its slightly fatty and melt-in-the-mouth texture was unlike any anago I've ever tried. A small dollop of wasabi was all that was needed to heighten its delicate flavour. It was somewhat unusual to me to include wasabi in dishes like these, but I certainly wasn't complaining here!

Fifth course: 渡り蟹・三杯酢 steamed Watari crab with homemade 'sanbaizu' vinegared sauce. The crab was sourced from the Seto Inland Sea.

This bluish-green crab is in season from January to April, and the amount of succulent flesh and creamy bright-orange roe in that small body was beyond belief. The incredibly sweet flesh and roe went hand-in-hand with the vinegared sauce, which was made using equal parts vinegar, soy sauce and mirin for the perfect balance between tartness and savoury depth. Only one problem - we struggled with this for nearly 30 minutes! The flesh in the pincers and legs were particularly difficult to reach, and as with all crab dishes served au naturel there is always the fear that you will hurt yourself unwittingly either with the crab skewer or the sharp edges in the shell. Seeing that we were not used to eating like this, Nakashima-san offered to help in scraping out the final bits for us, which you see on that small plate - yes we thought we'd eaten most of it and then there was still this much!

Sixth course: 新筍と本みる貝添え sashimi of mirugai clam, with blanched new season's bamboo shoots marinated in a homemade kinome miso sauce. The clam came from the Seto Inland Sea while the fresh bamboo shoots were wild-sourced from Kagoshima Prefecture.

Another course heralding the spring season. One of my favourite herbs in Japanese cuisine, young shoots from the Japanese pricklyash shrub (known as kinome in Japan) were blended with miso, in a manner akin to making pesto. Blanched and diced new season's bamboo shoots (another favourite of mine!) were then tossed in this paste. Apparently, this is a very common Japanese way of preparing bamboo shoots during their limited season, though I was unaware of it till now. The earthy sweetness and crunchiness of fresh bamboo shoots, combined with the intense and unique fragrance of kinome (best described as minty, peppery and citrusy), and the deep umami of miso, is something that needs to be tried to be believed. The clam sashimi, rather more delicate in taste and chewy in texture by comparison, was very fresh too, but despite being in the foreground, it was clear which called the shots in this dish.

Seventh course: とらふぐの唐揚げ deep-fried fugu (puffer fish) ribs, sourced from Kaminoseki town in southeastern Yamaguchi Prefecture.

This was a lovely reminder of the ending winter. The fried fugu ribs had a firm meaty texture underneath a feather-light and crisp batter. Its delicate taste was effectively enhanced by the sea salt dip, which was made by grinding three different salts to a fine powder. Just like the soy sauce for the earlier sashimi course, this salt had such an exceptionally deep flavour! The accompanying shishito pepper, also lightly battered and fried, delivered a pleasantly sweet taste and spicy kick whilst retaining a crisp and juicy bite.

Eighth course: たいらぎ貝・土佐ジェレ sashimi of tairagi (fan shell), dressed with homemade Tosa vinegar jelly. The tairagi came from Kagawa Prefecture, on the northeastern corner of the Shikoku region.

Tairagi, a large shellfish found throughout Japan south of northern Honshu, is usually in season during the winter months, so we were just in time for it. The adductor muscle is most commonly eaten as sashimi. This course was a most exquisite palate-cleanser. The shiso leaf and flower garnishes were not only pretty, but also contributed a sweet minty aroma to complement the delicate sweetness of the shellfish. The latter actually felt quite similar to scallop, somewhat firmer in texture but not quite as chewy as the earlier mirugai clam. However, I was most impressed by the jellied cubes of Tosa vinegar, made with dashi, mirin, Japanese rice vinegar, soy sauce, kelp and shaved bonito flakes. The vinegar's name refers to a former province that lay in today's Kochi Prefecture in the Shikoku region, where bonito fishing has had a long history. The bonito's smokiness and umami, combined with the tartness of vinegar, both highlighted the freshness of the shellfish and deepened its subtle flavour. Finally, the proximity of the sources of both major ingredients was not lost upon me; this was probably as keenly local as one could get when designing a dish.

In hindsight, I noticed how much raw fish and shellfish there had been in this meal. In the hands of lesser chefs, multiple sashimi courses might have become rather predictable, but here I loved how every course had been conceptualised with different accompaniments to showcase the characteristics of the seafood involved.

Ninth course: タラ白子茶碗蒸し cod milt chawanmushi (steamed egg custard). The fresh cod milt was sourced from Hokkaido.

A deluxe version of this typical Japanese side dish, made with eggs, dashi stock and cod milt (known as shirako in Japan), and topped with spicy grated radish (oroshi), chopped scallions, and a dash of citrus vinegar sauce (ponzu). This was very tasty and aromatic, with an unusual sharpness and spiciness that was the perfect foil for the intense and unique flavour of shirako. Considered a winter delicacy in Japan, popularly but not exclusively derived from cod, shirako is admittedly a bit of an acquired taste even for the Japanese, especially due to the image it conjures up in the minds of the uninitiated. Being the unreserved Japanese food lover that I was, I lapped up every bit of that buttery and musky goodness generously scattered within the custard. (Enjoy with an open mind! Simply burst the shirako's fragile membranes in your mouth and let the oozing creaminess send you to cloud nine.)

Tenth course: 菜かゆ・香物 vegetable porridge with pickles.

Chef Tetsuo Nakashima 中島徹夫

Pickles in the background: daikon marinated in yuzu (very
crunchy and aromatic!) and sweet marinated kelp.

This elegant bowl contained rice porridge in a viscous kelp dashi stock, with pieces of turnip (kabu) and chive, topped with thin slices of botargo (salted and dried mullet roe known as karasumi, and considered one of the three greatest chinmi delicacies in Japan). This last savoury dish not only signalled the impending end of the dinner but also allowed it to come full circle, remembering how we had started this amazing culinary journey with a seemingly plain dashi soup as well. Even now, I was astonished by how such a simple porridge could possess such deep flavour, just by the quality of the dashi stock in which it was cooked. The add-ons were nice - turnips and chives provided a nice crunch and further aromas, while the 2 pieces of botargo were a luxurious touch befitting of a top restaurant - but the dashi stock was what I will remember for a very long time. The rice itself was excellent too, retaining a good form and bite despite soaking in the stock.

Eleventh course (dessert): 酒かすプリン sake lees pudding with strawberry.

This elegant crystal cup came with a beautiful calligraphic inscription 花筏 (lit. 'flower raft') by Nakashima-san's father. A lovely poetic touch on top of the extraordinary gastronomic experience we were already having.

The fresh bittersweet taste and rich custard-like texture of this pudding were exquisite, finishing this dinner on a luxurious yet very clean note. And of course, the sweet and juicy strawberry topping was incomparable.

There was more to come actually: after the meal Nakashima-san's wife came to us with a set of postcards each, saying that it was a parting gift for us. Handmade by her father-in-law as well, these beautiful drawings of sakura and traditional Japanese dolls were both seasonally and culturally apt - Hinamatsuri 雛祭り or Doll's Day took place exactly 2 weeks ago, and sakura is expected to bloom in about 2 weeks. This sheer attention to detail to the very end was as heartwarming as it was astounding.

Peek into the private rooms...

Nakashima-san is a man of few words but he does his job of cooking incredibly well, with a keen sense of seasonality, locality, tableware and presentation (all important components of the whole kaiseki package). This was unpretentious, inspired and meticulous cooking allowing the very best of seasonal produce to speak for themselves, and his pride in them was evident from the detailed description of the provenance of his ingredients on the Japanese menu. However, despite having achieved so much, he remains extremely humble; when I praised his cooking in the same breath as his 3-starred peers in Kyoto, he seemed slightly embarrassed, and kept saying, 'no, no, not yet!' with typical Japanese modesty.

His wife, by contrast, was rather more outgoing, and her attention to service details was equally impressive. Our teacups were never less than half-full, and every two or three courses we would be provided with hot towels to freshen up. She also periodically brought out a culinary dictionary of Japanese ingredients (in English) to illustrate what we were eating - I should have asked her where I might buy it! She displayed a genuine friendliness and warmth from my initial phone call from Singapore right up to the end of our visit. I think they make such a great team!

The only catch: this restaurant really has no web presence or email whatsoever, and you'll have to speak at least a smattering of Japanese, or get someone who does, in order to get your reservation request through. The hostess jokingly described herself and her husband as 'analogue' folk when I asked her for an email address to send pictures and a link to my blog - which surprised both of us as they couldn't have been more than 40 years old! But perhaps it is a blessing in disguise sometimes to not be so connected...

While Nakashima does not possess all the bells and whistles of its Kyoto counterparts, it is also a lot cheaper for the same quality of food and service, and I would be back in a heartbeat if I ever visited Hiroshima again!

Address in kanji: 広島県広島市中区東白島町10-4 TOHAKU ビル
Tel.: (81) 82-225-3977

Open daily 6 - 11 pm except Sundays (however if Monday is a national holiday then it opens on Sunday and closes on Monday), and over the New Year period.