More for myself

It's 11:40 PM and I am still working! Urgh!

This post is really just so I can remember what I did when before my trip to Japan fades into a distant memory...

Day 1:
Dinner: Tempura at Yaegaki, Nagoya

Day 2: Travel to Nara/Kyoto
Breakfast: Assorted Ja-pan bread
Lunch: Over ten courses of tofu dishes in Nara
Dinner: Tawaraya Kaiseki

Day 3: Kyoto and head to Inuyama Onsen
Breakfast: Tawaraya's Kyoto specialty grilled fish
Lunch: Nishin soba (not Nissin as in the ramen maker, Nishin as in the Kyoto regional marinated fish...)
Dinner: U-kai bento and some ayu

Day 4: Back to Nagoya
Breakfast: Morning buffet at Inuyama Hotel
Lunch: Ramen festival
Dinner: Sashimi/sushi feast

Day 5: Last half day in Nagoya
Breakfast: Morning buffet at Nagoya Kanko Hotel
Lunch: Yakiniku at Toraji
Dinner: Assorted Ja-pan bread on the plane...

It's amazing I ate as much as I did and managed to lose some weight.

The Taste of Summer: Hamo

Hamo (pike conger, pike eel, Muraenesox cinereus) was in full force during this trip to Japan!

I grew up loving Hamo in Japan. Being from Nagoya, we really did get to enjoy the best of both worlds - Kansai (Western) and Kanto (Eastern) treats graced our tables with equal frequency. Although Tokyo-ites may eat more like Kyoto-ites, the height of Japanese cuisine is at Kyoto for me. Because Kyoto is not near any seaside ports and lacked the general availability of fresh fish, they had to be creative in their culinary styles and techniques to compensate for their lack of fresh ingredients.

Hamo is the perfect example.

Hamo was one of the few fish that could be transported from the ports to Kyoto alive. Unfortunately, hamo is also full of bones. I mean - FULL of bones. There is no way one can slice a piece of hamo into nice, clean sashimi bits. So, what did they do in Kyoto? They created a new way to eat fish.

Known as hone-giri (bone-cutting) technique, hamo is prepared by mincing the bones but not the skin of the fish. The chefs work on the fileted fish with great care and concentration as they slice the bones into pieces while maintaining the general structure and skin in tact. When the fish is fresh, the resulting flesh opens up like a flower into a gorgeous white bloom when blanched - perfect Botan (Peony hamo).



We had Hamo in Kyoto as a nabe (hot pot). In a perfect, pristine, clean broth, the hamo and grilled negi (green onion-ish leek-ish scallion) was a match made in heaven. The sizzled grilled fragrance of the sugar from the negi accentuated the delicate flavor of the hamo. The soft hamo flesh and its slightly chewy skin contrasted the multiple layers of the negi, each bite offering a different sensation.



But the truth is, I preferred hamo prepared differently. I hate to admit it, but I am not as adventurous as I like to be. I like familiar foods and familiar tastes. I like to adventure, but I still like the same dishes I grew up with best. Here I was, sitting at one of the oldest inns in Kyoto, one of the oldest cities in Japan, eating one of the most traditional fish in Kyoto, and I was wishing for the hamo I grew up with in Nagoya!

In Nagoya, we always had hamo in a more traditional way - blanched and served with a ume (plum) sauce. We did have hamo again later in Nagoya cooked that way, but that is a story for another night...

Breakfast Buffets in Japan

When I was staying at the swanky Marriott in Japan last January, I found myself with the strangest spread infront of me for breakfast. I had wandered around the extensive breakfast buffet, collecting this and that from the line-up that struck my fancy. The resulting collage was eclectic at best - in fact, it was so strange, I took a picture of it:


Here, some yu-dofu (boiled tofu) with ponzu and spicy grated daikon sits in the front. The plate on the left has stewed taro-like potatoes shaped like a mushroom (the top part is the skin), sauteed burdock, steamed okura, stewed hijiki seaweed. The plate on the right has two kinds of cold 'salads' - a vinegared seaweed salad with some clear rice noodles and a seafood angel hair pasta salad with big chunks of octopus. In the back in a plate of croissants and 'hot cakes' (the Japanese version of a pancake, different from pancakes because they are sweet and super thick - that's what they say), with a small plate of mango sauce for the hot cakes. I washed all this down with coffee and fresh squeeze orange juice.

It really was quite a broad spectrum of flavors condensed into one breakfast. I think I might have had some rice and salted salmon for dessert after I cleaned my plates you see here. Now where else can you have such a diverse set of dishes besides a breakfast buffet in Japan?!

The star of the meal, though, was really the croissants. I ate four of them.

Japan is big on bread (called 'pan' in Japanese after the French 'pain', although it might be Portugese...). I've told you about my obsession with Japanese croissants before already, but I seriously believe that croissants in Japan are better than those I had in Paris. These croissants are extremely flakey with each layer pleasureably peeling off of each other as I bite down - even the inside layers remain crisply separated in its paper-thin state, unlike the giant croissants here where the insides are a mushy mess with no discernible layers. The Japanese croissants are also buttery without being oily - the scent of the butter is unmistakably present yet there are minimal reside left behind on both my face and my fingers after I devour one of these. I could never eat more than half of an American croissant, but I can polish off three of these Japanese one any day. Pure epicurean pleasure, these croissants.

An integral part of any Japanese breakfast buffet, I say.

And I thought I was fusion...

Everytime I am in Japan, I am amazed at how prevalent 'fusion' food is there as a part of any old restaurant. My sister and I have talked about this over and over how the newest, hottest thing in the restaurant scene right now is often something we have grown up with and how we routinely dab with at home - East has been fornicating with West on our palates for as long as I can remember!! Why is it so exciting to see konbu in the hipster restaurants? What's the big deal with using bonito broth to strengthen the risotto?! We've been doing that in Japan since the 80's!!!!!

Here's an example of how prevalent this fusion business is in Japan - a local spaghetti shop served these...


This spaghetti had pickled plums (ume) kneaded into it, served with toasted nori and a crushed pickled plum dressing. Warm, al dente, and gentle, it was everything best from both the Japanese world and the Italian world. Would it knock off the socks of anyone expecting authentic spaghetti? I'm sure!! Did it taste good? Absolutely!!! The fresh flavors of the plum blended perfectly with the somewhat plain firmness of the noodles themselves to provide a refreshing and nourishing bite. It was so smooth and easy to eat, I slurp up my entire plate in a matter of seconds, I think.


My mother had the creamier fish-roe spaghetti. Tarako (cod-roe) spaghetti is so common in Japan that we can buy pre-made tarako spaghetti sauces at most Japanese grocery stores. The saltiness, along with the briny smell of the ocean, of the fish roe is almost like anchovy sauce on authentic Italian pizza and provides a complexity to counter act any dull richness of the cream sauce. In addition, the pops of the fish roe acts as another source of epicurean pleasure - rich, creamy smoothness of the sauce complimented by periodic pockets of popping brine and oceany scent. Who wouldn't love that?!

And this is why I find myself eating at home more and more. If the restaurants want to charge me and arm and a leg for mediocre pseudo-fusion food, blah! I'll eat at home! ...Am I too harsh because of my rediscovered joy for blogging?

Bantams are tasty

The Mogurin and I ate our college mascot... Well, kind of.

Although I'll be making more trip-inspired dishes, this is the very last of the trip-report posts from my last trip to Japan. Today, I'm going to share with you the details from my very first dinner back in Nagoya, our Shamo (Fighting Cock aka Bantam) dinner at Gotetsu.


Gotetsu is conceptualized and owned ('produced' as the Japanese say) by the 8th generation owner of the very famous Tamahede in Tokyo. Tamahede is THE place for Shamo cuisine, and my mother was very keen on trying Gotetsu. Seeing that Nagoya is famous for chickens of their own (Nagoya Ko-chin - yum!), my vote was to go for the local chickens. I don't quite remember how, but she convinced me that Gotetsu was worth a try because of the Tamahede connection...


I have to say, this might have been one of the only disappointing meals in Japan. Disappointing might be too harsh, but it sure didn't win me over instantly like the other foods I had during my trip. The food lacked that feeling of delicate care and attention that the other places packed into each bite.


We definitely had a big chickeny dinner, though! We started with some appetizers of pickled chicken liver and moved onto chicken pieces teriyaki grilled, skewered and salt-grilled, as well as deep fried. Unfortunately, I don't remember the shamo itself being all that spectacular. Yes, it was flavorful with a good texture, but so is my organic chicken here in the US!


Our interlude between the dry chicken and a soupy dish (always gotta have some soup dish if it's a true Japanese meal!) was the Fukaya Negi skewers. Fukaya Negi are brilliantly named negi (green onions) from the Fukaya region. They boast a sugar content equal to tangerines! These were tender and flavorful, full of steaming - I mean, STEAMING - green onion juices.


Our main dish for the evening was the cooked-at-your-table hot pot, which involved cooking chicken in a rich, strong chicken broth. The broth was bubbling violently and continued to do so until we were done.


A striking contrast was the peaceful silence the broth and the ingredients took on when we plated the cooked items. These two pictures seem to highlight the Japanese concept of "動" (Dou, movement) and "静" (Sei, quiet). The yin and yang, contained within the table, poetically enticing us to eat.


The true value of Gotetsu, however, is not to be judged by these dishes, I'm told by my mother. It is in their Oyako Don (Parent-Child Over Rice). If you recall, I made a seafood Oyako Don a while back, but traditional Oyako Dons are always made with chicken and eggs. Some people add onions and various other goods to it, but at Gotetsu, it's just the parent and the child - nothing but the chicken and egg, relaxing over the rice. Unlike other versions I've had in the past, this Oyako Don was one rich beast. There was no egg whites used, and the entire blanket of egg was made by briefly cooking deeply orange, almost overwhelmingly flavorful, potent yolks. Topped with a raw egg, this was one hell of an eggy dish!

If you are thinking - "eeewwwweeee, raw eggs????" - we eat a whole lot of raw eggs in Japan. The eggs and their parents are routinely tested for Salmonella and other egg-borne pathogens to ensure that these eggs are safe to eat. If you like spaghetti carbonara, you'll like raw eggs! Raw eggs pack that super creaminess without the dairy butteriness.

We mashed the raw egg into its siblings in the omlette-like structure on top of the rice, and let the egg intertwine nicely with each rice grain. There was just enough salt to cut the richness of the eggs. Now, I am not a particularly big fan of the potent egg-flavor, but I liked this dish. The main difference between this dish and just eating concentrated eggs is that the lightly cooked eggs here had dashi in it - the eggs were infused with a broth that provided the perfect balance of umami.

Although there is NO WAY I could eat more than a small bowl of this Oyako Don, Gotetsu redeemed itself with this dish. It surely was original as it had never occurred to me to make Oyako Don with just the yolks with dashi and chicken bits.

So.. I ate the Bantam, our college mascot. ...but only sort of. Pure-bred Shamo is considered a Natural Heritage Treasure (or how-ever I am supposed to translate 'tennennkinenbutsu'), which basically means that the government decided it was a special cultural and biological icon that we shouldn't eat. All chicken labeled as 'shamo' for eating are only 75% Shamo or less, and usually crossed with other kinds of chicken (and then sometimes back-crossed with Shamo for you genetics buffs!). Now, whether or not the eggs in the Oyako Don were Shamo eggs or not remains to be solved...

3 o'clock snack: Sanji no Oyatsu

Japanese kids all beam with delight when 3 o'clock rolls around in anticipation of Sanji no Oyatsu, which literally translates to 3 o'clock Snack. Snack options in Japan is amazingly diverse and kids and adults take great pleasure in snacking. Some snacks are more healthy than others, but the best treats for me were always the Western-style pastries in the numerous cafes in Japan.

One time, I was out with my friend, shopping around downtown Nagoya when we stopped in a cafe for a 3 o'clock snack. The offerings there were SOOOOO good, I literally ate two full plates of desserts. And these weren't any old desserts like a single cookie or a brownie. These could have been served as desserts in the finest of fine restaurants. I can't remember the dishes or the name of the cafe, but I remember the look on the waitress' face when I asked for a second dish... I was probably 12 yrs old or so, and my hearty appetite was already in full force then.


During my last trip to Japan, I explored the parfaits at the cafe in the Nagoya Marriott. Interestingly, unlike the Marriotts here, the ones in Japan are really upscale. And the cafe boasts a French-trained pastry chef, whose specialty is parfaits.


These parfaits were really works of art. They were breathtakingly gorgeous with white chocolate wings and milk chocolate swirls proudly topping each parfait. What we thought was ice cream on the white chocolate topped 'caramel parfait' was actually a flan-like custard, an interesting twist indeed. Layered with pound cake cubes and whipped cream, along with scoops of ice cream nestled in the center, these parfaits could have been meals.


But the winner dish for my Sanji no Oyatsu was the Mont Blanc. I grew up eating these Mont Blancs, calling them Monburan, never knowing that they were French. So much so that when I ordered a Mont Blanc at Angelina's in Paris - just because that was the dessert they were famous for - I didn't know what I was getting until it was delivered to me and I had a bite. It was a light bulb moment when it finally clicked that a Monburan was a Mont Blanc!

The Mont Blanc at the cafe in the Marriott was very good. Very, very good. It was full of chestnut aroma with creamy smoothness to gently satisfy me. Along side the cup of coffee, I had a moment of epicurean debauchery, fulfilling my desires with a sense of almost sinful luxury.

As I mentioned before, the Japanese are serious Francophiles, and the culinary culture greatly benefits from the French influences. While the traditional sweets of red bean paste and rice cakes, like sakura mochi, are still very much present and loved, the options for 3 o'clock snacks are enriched significantly by the French culinary tradition of exquisite desserts. I haven't quite successfully fulfilled my love for these treats in the Bay Area yet, but I'm constantly exploring. I should stop by Justa Bite again sometime soon! And please, let me know if you have a favorite dessert destination!!!!

Spa and Kaiseki: the ultimate Japanese luxury - Part II

Looking back at these pictures makes me hungry and want to go back home for another onsen trip! I'm continuing tonight with more pictures and more description of our kaiseki meal at Benkei in the outskirts of Kyoto.


Our sashimi selection was plated on a bamboo mat, resting on a bed of ice. The amaebi (sweet raw shrimp) was surprisingly good. Too often, amaebi has that mushy, squishy, sticky texture, but this shrimp was so fresh and so clean with a natural sweetness and no stickiness. The consistency and texture was similar to lychee and I enjoyed it every bit. The rest of the sashimi plate (uni, squid, seared tuna) was not memorable, except the 'hamo', the shredded white fish you see in the front. Hamo is usually a summer fish, so I was a bit surprised by its early appearance. This is a technical piece, since the Chef has to chop the hamo bones into pieces while not damaging the skin underneath or totally butchering the meat through a process called 'honegiri' or bone-cutting. The hamo is then blanched and served cold. I love the texture of the hamo skin against the soft and delicate flesh.


Speaking of blanching, that is exactly what shabu shabu is, and did I tell you I love it? And shabu shabu doesn't necessarily have to be done with beef. A common alternative is snapper or tai, and tai-shabu is served in many upscale Japanese eateries. In typical ryokan fashion, we each got individual clay pots and candle-based pot heaters for our tai shabu course. This was yummy, yummy, yummy. We waited patiently until the broth inside was boiling and then added our vegetables to cook. When the pot came back to a boil again, we dipped our snapper sashimi slices in there just until it was white on the outside, heated yet raw in the inside. The hot surroundings with the melt-in-your-mouth soft sweetness of the snapper was highlighted by the tangy ponzu sauce.


Although the tai shabu was delicious, my number one favorite dish from my dinner at Benkei was this unagi sakuramochi-style. Just like a sakuramochi, inside the fragrant cherry leaf was a ball of mochi-gome, the super sticky rice that the Chinese and the Vietnamese in the Bay Area call 'Sweet Rice'. This is somewhat misleading since the rice is not any sweeter than regular Japanese rice. This dish was not sweet either, as my sakuramochi title might indicate. This was a warm, savory dish with a nourishing quality beyond description. There was a slice of unagi between the cherry leaf and the rice, adding a plesant richness to the dish. The sauce was a thick, rich fish-based dashi and the perfect accompaniment to the rice ball. The saltiness of the cherry leaf worked so well with the warm and comforting broth.

We had an interesting take on the common 'sunomono' (vinegered item) dish, where we were served sashimi with a dipping sauce of vinegar and mirin (super-sweet sake, used only for cooking). I had never thought about sunomono that way and I appreciated the creativity very much. The idea was executed very well, and the mirin-vinegar was wonderful with the clam sashimi. I think I will do a variation of this at a sushi dinner party I am planning next (after this weekend's Kyoto Feast).


The final dish of Benkei and my kaiseki posts is a Japanese beef steak, cooked and kept warm by the same individual heaters that were once holding our tai shabu clay pot. Our server came by about three times to clear empty plates and bring us new courses, and in one of her visits, she took our tai shabu pots away and brought us these steaks. She wasn't sure what kind of wagyu it was, but it sure was tender and juicy, just as wagyu is supposed to be!

We finished the meal off with a soup and rice. I think we had dessert, but I was SOOOOO sleepy, I don't remember it. Half dead from jet-lag and a bad case of some nasty virus, I didn't even make it to the post-dinner soak that I was looking so forward to enjoying. I rolled over after dinner and relaxed in the second room while the ryokan ladies came and set up our traditional Japanese futons in the other room. And within 30 min of my epicurean debauchery, I was blissfully asleep, wondering how I managed to be so fortunate - a tummy full of fabulous food and resting so peacefully, surrounded by wonderful scents of tatami and wood.

I woke up promptly at 6 AM the next day for my soak and yoga in the outdoor bath again. I sure am a lucky one!

Spa and Kaiseki: the ultimate Japanese luxury - Part I

Thanks, Mogurin, for letting me use this beautiful picture of the view from our ryokan!

A ryokan is a traditional Japanese inn with tatami rooms and complimentary yukata (pajama-like versions of kimono). Ryokans often boast gorgeous hot spas from nearby hot springs (onsen) and kaiseki dinners served in the comfort of your own room. As a child growing up in Japan, my family frequently vacationed at family-friendly onsen ryokans, where the adults spent countless hours bathing and soaking while the kids played in the arcades or at the ping pong tables.

As I grew up, I cared less for the arcades and more for the quiet baths and terrific cuisine. During my recent trip, my Mama arranged for us to stay at a beautiful onsen ryokan, known for its sophisticated Kyoto Kaiseki. This was high-end onsen vacationing, far removed from the onsen trips of my childhood. It highlighted my grown-up appreciation for quiet and peaceful calmness. And I appreciated my Mama's thoughts so much for selecting somewhere that fit my current (grown-up) state of mind - who I am right now - so perfectly.

Benkei, our ryokan, is located in Arashiyama, a district within the Greater Kyoto region. Arashiyama is the spot where nobles living in Kyoto during the Heian period went to vacation, which sounds funny now, seeing that it seems like Arashiyama is within the Kyoto city limits. It is famous for its cherry blossoms and claims to be the spot where the sakuramochi was first created. Arashiyama is also has a hot spring source, and its weakly alkaline water is supposed to help with muscle soreness, skin clarification, and fatigue. I think any fatigue will be gone, regardless of the hot spring quality, after the pampering and relaxing an onsen ryokan like Benkei offers!

Benkei is relatively small with only 15 rooms total and many scenic bathing options (two per sex and one 'for rent' by couples/families/individuals). I prefer small ryokans for many reasons. The first of them is the fact that I don't really like to bathe with other people, and the spas at small ryokan at off hours are empty. I was the only one in the ladies' outdoor bath both times I went for a long soak - and a giant bath tub all to myself is luxury at its best. I even did some yoga in between my soaks! Outside! Completely naked! It was so liberating. By the way, these baths are very well protected and no one can peak or even worse, sneak in, although I've seen footage of monkeys coming down from the mountains in the Northern onsens for a dip along side their distant human cousins.

The other highlight was dinner. My Mama chose Benkei for our Kyoto stay, since the food was supposed to be some of the best traditional kaiseki meals at a ryokan. And I have to agree, it was quite stellar. Dinner at ryokans are served in your room, and you get to lounge around in your PJ Kimono (yukata) with wet hair from the onsen soak and lay down in between courses. It's super-relaxed and it was exactly what I needed, since I was coming down with some terrible viral sinus congestion. And since I overloaded you with more traditional food presentation with my two Hyotei posts, I'll post some of my more adventurous food photos!


As with all typical kaiseki meals, we started with a bunch of small bites, but unlike a super-traditional kaiseki course like the one at Hyotei, they served us a bunch of courses at the same time. Being a ryokan, the focus is more on relaxing and less on super traditional service. The Sakizuke and Hassun (equivalent of appetizer courses) were served all at once. Here you see a shrimp sushi, two-layered crab 'cake', a yam-like potato, and salmon wrapped in yuba (counter-clockwise from the shrimp). There was a home-made green bean tofu with uni as well on the side.


Then, they brought us the sakisuimono, the first of the soups. This was a clear soup with a huge shirauo (small fish - remember my tempura post?) cake that was really delicate and tenderly soft. Seasonality is so big in Japanese cuisine that the same ingredients are used in many of these restaurants. The fun part is seeing how differently they are presented from restaurant to restaurant, which I suppose is the joy of dining out anywhere! The green leaf you see on top of the fish cake is different from the green leaves in the soup. The one on top is Kinome, which has a very distinct scent and is ubiqutious in Kyoto cuisine. I LOVE it. It's very fragrant and smells like nothing else - gotta go to Kyoto to try it! The greens inside the soup is just mitsuba, which is a bitter leaf vegetable, available in some of the more exotic grocery stores around here in the Bay Area.


It is bad manners in Japan to pick up more than one object at a time with your chopsticks, but the color contrasts between the clear broth on the bottom, the orange carrots, the green mitsuba stalks, and the creamy fish cake was so pretty, I had to snap a shot.


Yes, takenoko again!!! And it was very good too. Maybe not quite as 'clean' tasting as Hyotei, but to compare anything to Hyotei is not fair. This dish had a strong bonito backbone, and I really enjoyed it. Again, you see the kinome here, and it definitely added another aspect to the dish. So small, yet so critical to creating that Kyoto flavor...

Well, looks like I've used up my blog-time today, so I'll have to split this post in two too! I spent too much time yapping about the onsen aspect, I didn't get through the food! Oh well. Come back tomorrow for more wagyu, snapper shabu shabu, and my favorite dish of the night: unagi sakura mochi style!

Click here for Part II!

Hyotei: the spirit of kaiseki dining - Part II

Part II of my Hyotei post begins with my favorite Spring vegetable: the bamboo shoot. Bamboo shoots are the symbol of Spring in Japanese cooking and revered for their soft yet crunchy dichotomy. It is said that the window of deliciousness is much smaller for bamboo shoots than for any kind of fish, and the best of the best bamboo shoots are those dug up in the early morning of the same day. This aspect of intense timeliness appeals very much to the spirit of kaiseki cuisine, and these tenderly crunchy bamboo shoots have been infusing Spring breeze into kaiseki dishes for a long time.


At Hyotei, these bamboo shoots were slowly cooked in delicate dashi. Cooking something white with dashi requires mastering of dashi itself, since the Chef must create seasoning that does not stain the bamboo shoots themselves. The cream-colored purity of the bamboo shoots you see here is evidence of the immense skill this kitchen contains.


I was so overwhelmed at how soft yet crunchy these bamboo shoots were. They broke apart with my chopsticks along the fibers. The fibers were so well-infused with dashi that they separated with ease. But they maintained their pleasurable texture so well. This was Spring at its best. If you have never had bamboo shoots that are neither pickled nor pre-boiled, a trip to Kyoto in the Spring is in order...


The next and final 'meat' course was house-dried fish. For the life of me, I can't remember what the fish was, but this dish is called, "Ichiya boshi" or "One night dried" fish. Unlike traditional dried fish, the reason for drying is not preservation but rather to increase flavor and texture. Drying the fish overnight eliminated excess water from the meat and concentrated the sweetness of the flesh. It was grilled to perfection and I enjoyed the smoky aroma accompaniment to the sweet fish.


Rice and soup signaled the end of the savory dishes. Although stuffed beyond belief, all three of us finished the scallop rice and clear soup. None of us even a grain of rice left on our plates.


Dessert was a two-course affair, starting with fruits. This dish symbolizes why Hyotei continues to be the pinnacle of Japanese cuisine. Rather than being complacent with its traditional cuisine, the kitchen here takes adventures, incorporating new ideas and concepts from other culinary trends. Here, we see Strawberries with Gelee, a very refreshing touch after the multi-, multi-course meal we had enjoyed. As you see, they took away our elevated tray-tables for dessert. We enjoyed our first course dessert on trays of their own.


Concluding the affair (second dessert dish) was a traditional tea ceremony set-up, in which we were served a sweet treat, followed by green tea. I am not going to share the pictures of these here, since I am planning on doing a special green tea post some time soon!

In retrospect, the meal at Hyotei was nothing short of perfect. Everything was perfect. From the timing of my tea being refilled to the temperature of the soups, everything was calculated to an amazing exactness, and they made it seem so effortless. Our server was a charming lady with the warmest smile, and she made us feel totally at ease and comfortable. There was absolutely nothing pretentious to Hyotei and we were welcomed like old friends. Our server even let us go take a peak at their oldest dining room after our meal, which boasts a beautiful view of their meticulously maintained garden.


Hyotei, literally translates to Gord Eatery, and I have no idea what the reason behind their name is. But after eating there, my interpretation is that one is hidden away from reality in the comfortable Hyotei World, as if escaping inside a gord. Next time I am in Kyoto, I will definitely be stopping by Hyotei again.

Hyotei: the spirit of kaiseki dining - Part I

The biggest reason for my wanting to go visit Kyoto was not the famous Golden Pavillion or the Zen garden at Ryoanji. It was to visit Hyotei, a 350 yr old eatery in Kyoto, regarded by many to be the epicenter of Kyoto cuisine, known as Kyo-kaiseki.


Kaiseki meals are multicourse affairs, where the diner is presented with seasonal dishes cooked with utmost attention to detail. Everything is orchestrated to provide the diner with the best possible experience, starting with the first cup of tea brewed to be at the perfect temperature to the dishware used to serve each course. Often, dishes are served in bowls with the chef's intentions closed tightly inside under a lid - diners get the full effect upon lifting the lid and being greeted by wonderful aromas wafting up with the steam. Kaiseki cuisine is true evidence that Japanese food is so much more than raw fish and sushi. Although sashimi often plays a part in the kaiseki course, it is a small component of the wonderful ensemble.

Hyotei started out as a tea stop for the pilgrims visiting the near-by Nanzenji temple and became an eatery in August, 1837. A meal at Hyotei is like traveling back in time and enjoying a serene meal in an environment away from all the hustle and bustle. It is nourishing, warm, and rejuvenating - all aspects of what a warm 'motenashi' or 'welcoming' should feel like.


There are only five dining rooms associated with the main Hyotei building, and each party occupies one room. Each of these rooms used to be tea rooms with traditional tea ceremony service back in the day when Hyotei was a tea house. We were led to a cozy, comfortable space for our meal.


As with many traditional Japanese eateries, we sat on tatami floors with individual 'tables' as you see here. The table/trays are works of lacquer art, and they give a smooth, seductive feel as they reflect off the gorgeous outside green onto its deep black surface. A point on Japanese manners: once you use your chopsticks, the proper way to rest them on these trays is to put the side your mouth touches off the edge...


The first set of dishes from this meal was a trio of snapper sashimi, snapper shirako (epididymus - warning: click only if you really want to know!!), and lightly fried soramame beans. My Mama and I were both taken back by how smooth the snapper sashimi was. You could almost taste the sharpness of the knife used here, and the sweetness of the meat was accentuated by the flawless clean cut. This plate of sashimi reminded me that preparing sashimi requires culinary mastery and that sashimi, despite its unheated state, is actually 'cooked' food after all.


The snapper shirako was lightly grilled and topped with grated daikon and ponzu. The almost liquid shirako melted in my mouth as I tried to enjoy the flavors without thinking about what I was eating. Shirako is a revered delicacy in Japan that I just can't grow to appreciate. I've been trying to block out my prejudices and really taste them for what they are, but knowing what it is makes me cringe everytime... This dish was visually attractive - the delicate white of the shirako, the bright red lacquer of the bowl, and the stark contrasting black lacquer tray was breath-taking.


Next up was a simply stunning soup. It was a white miso soup with the most nourishing, motherly warmth. This was simply divine. All three of us inhaled the aroma and stopped talking. For a moment, we all sat in a total state of relaxation, as the warm, sweetness of the miso traveled our bodies. White miso is a Kyoto specialty, and a properly preapred white miso soup is nothing like the miso soups we get here in the US. This soup had an almost milky richness to it with a subtle sweetness. Inside was a mountain plant, the harbringer of Spring that I discussed in an earlier post. It is very rare that I become speechless about food, but this bowl of soup was so wonderful, I was left in speechless awe. I was so overwhelmed by this miso soup that I begged them for their white miso distributor and brought some back with me... (And yes, if you are nice to me, I will try to make you my version of this wonderful soup...) The presentation was equally stunning, and the soup was served in a black lacqur bowl with a lid that opened up to show the gorgeous golden artwork with the Japanese character for 'snow', pictured here.


The next dish was an ensemble of various bites. These were all wonderful, but the highlight of this plate was the boiled egg. Known as the Hyotei Tamago (Egg), it is a perfectly boiled egg with a rich, luscious near-liquid center, surrounded by solid egg white. This egg has been served here since the time when most people were still eating raw eggs as the height of culinary sophistication, which is still evident as the spirit Hyotei continues to live by today. What mystifies me is how they are able to slice this near-liquid center in half without tainting the white part with the egg yolk.


We were then presented with a fun diversion of unwrapping our sasa-zushi (bamboo sushi). Carefully wrapped in bamboo leaves, these rolls gave off a very pleasant green bamboo leaf scent, refreshing us at the mid-way point of our meal.


Inside was a plump and youthful shrimp sushi or a mature and elegant sophisticated snapper sushi. Both offered totally different textures and flavors, and the combination was just as fun as the process of unwrapping the bamboo packages.

That's going to be the end of my posts today, since I have five more courses to describe to you, as well as stories about our wonderful server who told me the miso distributor and the markets I can go find it, along with a sneak peak at Hyotei's oldest dining room! Click here for more Hyotei debaucherizing!

Kyoto Week: the culinary center of Japan

This week's theme is Kyoto. Kyoto is one of Japanese treasures with a rich history and sophisticated cultural finess. It was Japan's ancient capital, where emperors and nobles of the past left an irreplacable sense of history.


Kyoto was our sighseeing destination from this trip for two reasons. The last time we were in Japan on a sightseeing trip with five of our friends, the Mogs missed partically all of the Kyoto experience, since he was stuck in the US embassy in nearby Osaka with me renewing my student visa. Since Kyoto is a must-see destination with much historical importance, we decided that we needed to do Kyoto for sure this time around. The other reason was the food.

Kyoto cuisine has been appreciated all over the world and respected for its unique vegetables, delicate seasoning, and tender treatment of ingredients. Kyo-kaiseki is revered as one of the most sophisticated dining experiences in Japan. Kaiseki, a style evolved from tea ceremony, is a carefully orchestrated course meal which emphasizes attentive warmth from the host for the guests. This attentiveness is based on the spirit of ichigo ichie (一期一会), in which each meal is prepared with perfection, as if it were the last chance the host is given to please the guest.

I enjoyed two full kaiseki meals in Kyoto, and I am dedicating this coming week to my experiences with Kyoto cuisine. I also brought back some amazing ingredients from Kyoto, and this week will culminate with a feast I make for my friends, recreating some of the spirit of Kyoto cuisine in my own kitchen.

NOTE: The picture of the very famous Zen garden at Ryoanji temple that you see here is compliments of the Mogs. You can find other pictures by him on his flickr page. He has a ton more nice looking pictures from Japan, so maybe if we all harass him via flickr, he will put them up there for us!