BryanZ

I found Woodberry to be the most exciting and well-rounded of three I've been: Mado, No. 7, Woodberry. Though it's execution was perhaps the weakest of the bunch. So take that as you will.

So Bruni reviews this place for the third time this evening/tomorrow. Four stars is the bet to place here. Would be amazing for them. And a big f-you to Michelin, too. Funnily enough I just booked dinner here in a couple of weeks for to celebrate/mourn my leaving the city. Hope they don't jack the price of the Gourmand if they get the (much deserved) good news.

Cool. Galatoire's is also a bit more conveniently located, too, I guess. Though the allure of $.25 martinis at lunch at CP is strong.

I want to check out Galatoire's, but can't be there on Friday. Is lunch on, like, Wednesday still worth going to?

Thinking of going in less than a week. In the heat of summer, I know. If I want to go with a Besh restaurant is August the way to go? Docsconz's less-than-glowing report has me a bit worried, especially as the restaurant isn't exactly cheap, but the place has been recommended to me by a few others. Is Luke an acceptable substitute? I'm kind of expecting a Bayless-in-Chicago meal. One where even though the food will likely be solid but far from mind-blowing, I still feel the need to visit because the chef-proprietor just seems like a nice all-around guy. Besides Cochon and August, are there any other popular restaurants that require reservations more than a few hours in advance?

So I came, I waited, and waited, and finally ate. Wait on a Friday night shortly before 8 pm was between 45 minutes and one hour. Every twenty minutes or so Roberto would bring out some basic dough, seasoned with just a bit of salt and maybe some olive oil. This little bite set the tone for what was to come. 500 ml carafes of house wine for $20 were fine, but I actually didn't feel like the limited, and sort of expensive wine list added much to the experience or the restaurant's value proposition. There were two specials, but I only heard one of them on account of the noise (moderate) and our server's incredibly thick Italian accent (borderline unintelligible). $22 for a white pie felt like a lot, so we passed. The other was some kind of tart with porcini spread, or something. The four of us split a salad and four pizzas. The salad was fine, refreshing, but I wouldn't visit for salad alone. It had your standard bitter greens, shaved pear, and walnuts. Like tupac, my favorite pie was the regina margherita. To me it showed the best balance, and the cherry tomatoes definitely brought some acidity to counterbalance what we all felt was a rather sweet sauce. This pie really showcased the dough, soft and pillowy yet with just enough structure to not totally fall apart. As others have mentioned, however, the pies degrade quite quickly and get soggy. I ended up taking one bite out each of the quarters, to help mitigate this sogginess at its most vulnerable point, then worked my way around at a more leisurely pace. My least favorite of the bunch was the Keste. The greens and ham were of a high-quality, but the whole thing felt overtopped to me and unintegrated. I really enjoyed the butternut squash pizza, but also felt some of the toppings were unnecessary. I could've gone either way with the artichokes, but the roasted peppers were distracting. My favorite part was creamy squash spread that took on savory pumpkin pie-like characteristics. I know Bruni hated the sausage, but I couldn't find fault with the quality of the product. It's quite fatty and imbues the pie with a pervasive porkiness that almost bordered on being overwhelming. This, however, was again counteracted by the bitter rappini on the pie. Overall this was probably my second favorite pie, even if I felt the squash one more interesting. As we were finishing our wine, and lingering perhaps just a bit for a restaurant this crowded, our waiter asked if he could have the table back. I kind of saw it coming and he was polite about it, so I wasn't really offended. Still, some people hate that kind of thing, so be warned. We walked out shortly shortly before 10 pm, and there was a horde of people still waiting for a table. Crowded place, that's for sure. Also, keep in the mind the tables that abut the kitchen get very, very hot. We were seated there first but thankfully another four-top opened up at the same time and so asked to move. I think after tax and tip we just shy of $40 each.

Thanks for the info. on the Vietnamese baguette. Indeed, there was a big difference in bread between NYC and Vietnam. I should have qualified by Japanese breads statement. I meant to say that American bakeries (in the culinary, not geographic sense) don't seem to feature the strange bread products found in Japan. Back in the day, when Mitsuwa was Yaohan, they had a much more diverse bread selection (in addition to korroke and other quirky yoshoku treats) than they have now, including some of the items I picked up at Tokyo station. And, of course, NYC, LA, SF, Seattle, and probably a few other cities, have Japanese bakeries that specialize in said pastries, too.

I think the issue the UE has is that the left side of the menu (I think) presents all the produce of the season grown on the farm. In a perfect world all these items might appear in a given meal. I do agree it can be a bit frustrating when first presented with dozens of items and then receive a meal that features the same product over and over, whether this repetition is intentional or not.

By pure random chance I've found myself at three of the ten in recent months. Based on this random sampling and with no other expectations that a solid neighborhood restaurant, I concur with Sneakeater. No slight to the restaurants themselves, but you've got to wonder where those BAM folks have been eating.

Now that it's been a few weeks since returning my experiences have had more time to settle. From a food perspective, the best dishes were those that were new and unexpectedly delicious or those that raised the bar with a food item I thought I knew quite well. And they had to be deliriously tasty, of course. So, if I'm going to compile a list of The Best Dishes of the Trip they would include the following: -Ramen and tsukumen at Menya Kissou (Tokyo) -Chile crab at Palm Beach Seafood (Singapore) -Red curry crab at Samboon Seafood (Bangkok) -Beef pho at Gia Truyen (Hanoi) -Grilled prawns with rice powder, chile, garlic, and herbs at Lek Seafood (Bangkok) -Uni, scallop, shrimp, kanpachi, cured tuna at Sushi Dai* (Tokyo) There were surely many, probably dozens, more extremely tasty/interesting dishes that I'm craving at this moment, but one has to limit such a list somewhere. If I'm allowed to note the most memorable eating experiences, however, I should definitely note how much fun it was to eat our way across the Old Quarter of Hanoi in the pouring rain. Also, the whole meal at Huen Phen in Chiang Mai was just so surprisingly good and so staggeringly cheap that I have nothing but praise for the place. Samboon Seafood in Bangkok also sticks out in my memory because it was our first dinner in Thailand and, more importantly, because the food was so tasty and bold across the board. Menya Kissou and Sushi Dai will also not be forgotten but probably as much for their inconveniences and quirks as for their delicious wares. Finally, each kaitenzushi I've ever been to in Japan holds a special place in my heart. I maintain and defend my irrational love of the concept to all challengers. From a more practical perspective, however, Tenkazushi Dogenzaka would be a fine and affordable stop for anyone hanging out in Shibuya looking for a cheap meal. When reviewing my favorite dishes and most memorable eating experiences, it becomes clear that there's not a lot of correlation between price and enjoyment. Our two most expensive meals, tempura at Kondo and kaiseki at Atami Sekitei, were not among my favorites. Objectively they might be considered the best in ingredient quality and service, but they lacked the sense of discovery or visceral satisfaction that some of the other meals provided. To others these highly refined examples of Japanese cuisine might certainly be among the best meals of the trip. This gives rise to yet another point I kept returning to while enjoying the variety of food I sampled. Those who lord Michelin stars over the rest of the world as the be-all end-all of dining, just like those who unequivocally dismiss those same stars as elitist excess miss the point. I confess to initially trying to come up with some kind of calculus that might compare a $300 lunch to a $3 one but quickly realized it's pointless. I don't think the great toques of France need to worry about a sidewalk pho vendor stealing their business, but those vendors might put out a dish that's just as enjoyable for a mere fraction of the cost. With that said, I still believe that the highest pinnacles of the gastronomic experience are largely the domain of high-end kitchens. It would, however, be a sad world if both did not exist. Since this trip report has presumably been about food, I'll be briefer in addressing the locations themselves. Each has something to recommend it, but each has drawbacks, too. If anything, I wish I had more time in Asia on the whole to spend more time in the places I visited and also make it to new destinations. As it was, we had less than a day-and-a-half in Chiang Mai, Saigon, Singapore, and Tokyo. Malaysia and Sri Lanka sound fascinating. And I still haven't been to China or Korea. In general I preferred the street food in Vietnam to that in Thailand. Thai restaurants, however, were probably of a marginally higher standard than Vietnamese ones. This of course refers to low- to mid-range restaurants, as we did not seek out particularly expensive ones in Bangkok or Saigon. Tokyo and Singapore obviously take the cake in the restaurant department, however. In fact, I firmly believe that Tokyo is one of the great cities, eating and otherwise, of the world. Bangkok kind of reminded me of Tokyo in a sense, just not as nice nor as friendly nor as clean. I just got this big, sprawling Asian city vibe from it. Both cities have impressive temples, but the ridiculousness of Bangkok's are certainly worth seeing. Somehow Saigon escaped this comparison, perhaps it felt more uniquely Vietnamese. Krabi was just absurdly beautiful, and I would go back just for the scenery even if the food was just alright. Still, I've had much, much worse for more money in less beautiful resort areas in the States and Caribbean. I've been to a lot of beaches in my day, and the karsts just put the scenery on another level. Like I mentioned Hanoi was dirty, dingy, and super cool. Saigon was also a memorable place to visit but certainly felt bigger. While not as dirty-cute as Hanoi and more difficult to get around, the wide range of development made for a city of many faces. Vietnam, on the whole, however has perhaps fewer cultural attractions than Thailand. We didn't have much interest in seeing war museums and attractions of that ilk. Halong Bay was also beautiful but in a grand, mysterious sense rather than a tropical paradise sense. We preferred Krabi, but the cruise was a fun, if quirky, experience. Singapore is kind of devoid of tourist culture in the sense that there aren't many ancient temples or anything like that. The food was good, and it's a cool, superlatively clean and modern, city to see. Probably more a stopping point for a couple of days than somewhere I would plan a full vacation, too. I could've easily spent three weeks in Thailand or Vietnam or Japan. *In a literal each of these pieces might count as a single dish, making Sushi Dai, by the numbers, the best meal of the trip. This literal counting isn't really fair, however. Nor do I think the meal was the best meal of the trip for a couple of reasons. While I firmly believe that fantastic sushi is one of the world's great meals, regardless of price or provenance, I also believe that a sushi meal can't be directly compared to a meal in which a wider number of cooking techniques are used. And, like I mentioned above, waiting 2.5 hours was certainly memorable, but it was not enjoyable.

Finally going here tomorrow. Looks like I'm steering clear of the pecorino and lardo. What are the can't miss pies?

Atami, Japan, cont'd. We woke up the next morning, visited the baths, then sat down to breakfast. While not as elaborate as dinner, traditional Japanese breakfasts are certainly a multi-dish affair. We were offered a choice of fish species, but the rest of the meal was selected for us and presented at once, on a large laquer tray. Breakfast Rice, miso soup, many types of pickles, grilled fish, omelet, fish roe, fried tofu, braised potato. Traditional, very nice. After breakfast we headed back to Tokyo station to then catch our train to Narita. At Tokyo I popped in to a typical curry shop for a hearty plate of rice, curry, and katsu. Japanese curry is something of an acquired taste, as it's really nothing like Indian or SE Asian curries. As sustenance for the plane ride, a stop at a Japanese bakery was in order before we stepped on the Narita Express. Naturally, I went for some of the more interesting items. Hamburger pastry Korroke pastry Bacon-cheese bread Kind of like the "volcano" popular in Korea and, now, at Momofuku Milk Bar, this was a potato bread with a cheese and bacon filling. Edamame-cheese bread As is the case with almost anything edible in Japan, the quality was very good. Given their somewhat strange nature they over-delivered. Breads like this don't really exist in the US. Loaded with our pastries, bags, and countless cheap souvenirs we boarded our plane and set off toward home. This trip was surely delicious but also eye-opening. Yes there were new dishes and flavors, but what really struck me about SE Asia was just how SE Asian it felt. In old and new areas alike, there's something very alive and real about the region. It's fragrant, hot, humid, noisy, crowded, a sensory assault. I had been to Japan many times before, so the the idea of "Asia" itself was not particularly exotic. Looking back, it seems foolish to have so superficially grouped four countries under one label. In fact, now it's plainly clear to me just how starkly different the various regions in each of the countries were. Thanks to those who have come along on this trip report. I hope you enjoyed it, got to experience some of it, and perhaps learned or saw something new. Of course, I'm happy to field any questions waiting in the wings.

We were able to secure a spot at Tempura Kondo the night before, but only got our three seats at their first seating. We were seated in the second room, not with Kondo-san, so if that's important to you, you might try reserving in his area. Seeing as we were a last-minute reservation we took whatever they could give us. Like I mentioned we were the first party in the second room, but it had nearly filled by the time we left. Alas, I wanted to get to some of the French-ish places, namely Ryugin, but it was not in the cards. Too expensive given the money we'd already spent on the previous weeks of accommodations, entertainment, and food. There will definitely be a next time for that place. I'm really of the opinion that Menya Kissou was the most compelling and memorable place we ate at. Period. One can debate whether it's worth the 3 hours of my life it took to eat there, but I'm glad I went that once.

I'm not sure boring is the best way to put it. I, for one, really, really enjoyed Singapore's food. It's perhaps not as vibrant as Thai or Vietnamese, but it's certainly more diverse. One can really see the influence of a whole host of unique cultures coming together in such a small place. It's also not so raw and visceral, but that's largely a function of vendors being moved off the street and into small restaurants and hawker centers. For some, this could certainly be a boon, as it was for my mother. She appreciated the relative cleanliness of it all. For others, however, I can totally understand how it might seem less authentic and less exciting. Singapore is more developed so visitor's aren't as likely to see those living photographs of quintessential SE Asian life that seem to be par for the course in, say, Hanoi.

For three people that seems an absurd amount of food. That's not a condemnation, mind you, more admiration. We had to wait for our table, so I had a little snack at the pastry shop up Steinway, but I was plenty full after the food we received.

Made my first visit to the place last night. Very solid, fun night out. Service leaves a lot to be desired. Simple things like silverware, plates, glasses are apparently precious commodities. Things do not proceed quickly here. There was a long wait for food to first start coming out and again after we'd ordered some additional sardines. Ali's generally friendly nature helps offset these inconveniences, almost. Of the offal dishes, we were served a collection of greatest hits. Veal brains, sweetbreads, tongue, lamb cheek. All were very good and interesting, but perhaps tasted a bit sameish across the board. There seems to be a heavy reliance on lemon and brined items like capers and olives. Of the offal items, I think I enjoyed the brains and cheek most of all. The brains were custardy, which worked well with the briny, caper sauce. The lamb cheeks actually tasted like lamb and were luxuriously creamy. The egg on top certainly helped and also contributed an interesting textural contrast. I appreciated the other, non-offal dishes, however, simply as a means to prevent some palate fatigue. Of the non-offal dishes we had a sweet-sour cauliflower salad, a cucumber-yogurt salad, the mixed appetizer platter, and grilled sardines. All of these were also quite good, though I wasn't the hugest fan of the cauliflower. The sweet-sour dressing was nice, but I wish the cauliflower itself had been roasted longer to improve both its flavor and texture. As others have noted, the appetizer platter is really quite good. The hummus is creamy and well-balanced, the babaganoush exhibits wonderful smokiness, the falafel are creatively spiced, and foul with quite different than versions I'd had in the past. I think over the course of the meal I must've consumed at least four pita, dipping in and scooping up everything in site. All in, we paid $40/person after tax and tip. We'd brought wine, so that wasn't an issue. Again, this is a very quirky restaurant and for every fan I can also see someone who would hate it. It's clearly a labor of love and for that reason I can see why people have such fervent dedication to the place.

(Whose brand was this?) ← Indeed, it's a Suntory product. The cheapest meal here was Y11000, so with the exchange rate just north of $120. I didn't think it was so bad when you figure tax in NYC runs about 9% and one has to tip 20% on top of all that. Come on, I can read most of the writing even though it's a little blurry. I think I could read almost all of it if it were clearer, and I'm not particularly good at Kanji. ← You've got my mother and grandmother beat then. I think the issue wasn't so much the general description of the dish, but the specifics of provenance, accompaniments, and cooking method. Yes, that is correct. Not sure why we didn't get any popiah. An oversight on my part, I suppose. Next time?

Atami, Japan Freshly bathed and dressed in yukata, we settled down to dinner. I've actually never been a big fan of eating on the floor, just too uncomfortable and cramped for me, but when in Rome... Menu Even for native Japanese, near impossible to decipher. Sake service Great service pieces and drinking vessels. White fish, aspragus Unfortunately the details of this dish have been lost to the depths of my memory. The fish was wrapped around some kind of filling. I remember this dish being a surprisingly good opening. Clear soup, egg custard, duck meatball, junsai One of my favorite dishes of the night, this almost tasted nouvelle French. Sparkling broth, silky and rich custard, deliciously savory meatball. The junsai added that most unique textural component so typical of the ingredient. Local oysters Ridiculously huge, ridiculously fresh. These were like eating an oyster steak, very meaty. One of the more satisfying dishes of the night. Sashimi A variety of fish, all of it impeccable. I will say I've had better but there was really no faulting this. Scallop, eggplant, in a cage Bad memories from Vietnam made us take pause when presented with a dish in a cage. Sparrows perhaps? Fortunately, not. This dish was quite complex and, much like the clear soup, seemed to adopt a nearly European-influenced sensibility. The front of the shell held green beans and stuffed root vegetable components. In the rear was a seared scallop topped with a silky grilled eggplant puree. This dish really worked for me. I wish the scallop was warmer, however. In a restaurant setting, this dish could be a total home run. Shabu shabu Cooked at the table, obviously. The fish in this case was prepared with some pretty intricate knifework. I'd heard of this technique before, where small cuts are made in the fish to deal with the number of bones in the tiny fillets, but this may have been my first time experiencing it. The cooking broth, with the slight addition of a bit of the acidic dipping sauce, made for a most delicious soup. Octopus, conch, mountain yam For me, the weakest dish of the night. The textures here were totally intense. The yam, as those who have had it surely know, contributes a sicky, slimy texture. I'm used to it, but that alone could turn a lot of people off to the dish. The octopus and conch also seemed to be just lightly poached so they had a good deal of bite and chew to them. Not sure if this was intentional or not. Ayu, pepper, herb Apparently the herb served with this fish is meant to offset the fish's natural oiliness and strong aroma. Was very tasty to me. Pickles, cured tuna, rice, miso soup A traditional end to the meal. The tuna was really good and really quite interesting. Not sure how it was cured, but it was extremely meaty yet also gelatinous. Fruit, some Japanese bean custard thing The fruit was very nice. No problems there. I've just never come around to traditional Japanese sweets. I prefer the clean sweetness of refined sugar to the grainy, beany sweetness of Asian pastry. I ate it, it was fine, though really not my style. This was a very good meal, better than I thought it would be to be honest. I especially appreciated the dishes that required a bit more cooking than those that simply presented a few pristine ingredients. Service, naturally, was excellent. I've gotten used to the whole endless bowing, head-to-the-ground thing, but it still makes me feel just a bit weird. From kaitenzushi to hot springs to a beautifully traditional Japanese meal, this was a very nice day.

Tokyo, Japan, cont'd. For breakfast my sister and I headed over to Shibuya in search of more kaitenzushi. This was a Sunday morning and still Shibuya was bustling. Japanese youth must be early risers. We sought out Tenkazushi, the Dogenzaka branch. It's a few minutes from the famous Hachiko gate. Tenkazushi still qualifies as very cheap kaitenzushi. Each plate of two pieces if Y130, or about $1.45. The quality was also very good. More so than Kappazushi, Tenkazushi reminded me of Tsukiji Honten in its heyday. We walked by Tsukiji Honten after this meal and found the crowds there not nearly as prevalent as they'd been in the past. Tenkazushi, Sunday morning Packed. We had to wait a minute or two for our seats. The damaage A light lunch for my sister and I. I really, really enjoyed this place. The vibe was right; the food was good. We checked out of our hotel then proceded to Tokyo station to catch a shinkansen to Atami, a famous hot springs area about an hour outside of the city by high-speed train. Whiskey and water A little refreshment for the train ride, purchased at the platform kiosk. At 9% alcohol and half the size of a beer I much rather would've had a beer. I'm a big whiskey fan, but this was not very good. Our train ride was short and comfortable, and after a short cab ride we arrived at Atami Sekitei, a ryokan on the outside of the small city. I've stayed in some really, really high-end ryokan, from the famous Hiragiya on down, so this place wasn't quite as fantastic, but it was a great deal. Usually, one night of accommodations with meals runs about $400/person. Their summer promotion offered a two-for-one special, however. So the four of us--we had picked up my grandmother before leaving Tokyo--stayed for the price of two. Obviously $800 for a night's stay is still a lot of money, but it could've been twice that. Atami Sekitei Sekitei means rock garden, and the entire place is built amidst these rock paths. Very pretty and peaceful. I don't have pictures of the baths because, well, that would be weird, but they were quite nice, though not on the level of some of the other places I've stayed. The room One of our rooms. At ryokan, meals are usually served in the guests' quarters. We had the two levels in this little house for the four of us. There was more than enough space.

Yasuda is a party compared to this place. Yasuda-san, for all his gruffness and personality quirks is quite entertaining. The mood here was, I daresay, somber, though not quite as reverential as Kissou.

Tokyo, Japan, cont'd. It had already been a long day, but for dinner we had managed to secure reservations at Tempura Kondo at the Sakaguchi Building, ninth floor, 5-5-13 in Ginza. We got the recommendation from tabelog and only after our meal did we learn that the place has two Michelin stars. The stars were not displayed on the typical plaque that one finds at many restaurants but on this cutesy hand-painted picture with the Eiffel Tower and two stars with a place outlined for a third. It was endearing, I suppose, to see how dismissive they were of the accomplishment. When we asked one of the older female staff, a proprietor or long-time employee presumably, he casual response was to the effect of, "Oh, yeah, two stars." Kondo offers up a style of tempura I hadn't had before, both philosophically and stylistically. I'm pretty sure there's nothing like this in the States. The whole experience is quite austere and almost shockingly simple. We were seated in the second room and had the sole attention of our chef for about half the meal. Not the most talkative guy, but he answered all our questions in a terse but friendly fashion. The bar itself is made of beautiful, soft blond wood. Quite the tactile experience. The bar, kitchen, and chef The tray o wholef produce visible in this picture isn't for show. Quite literally, every vegetable we consumed came straight from that tray. Nearly all the seafood was filleted from whole at the prep area right beside the sink. The menu we selected was their cheapest at just over $120/person. This seems like a lot but includes tax and gratuity, so it really isn't so bad. Shrimp prep Live shrimp were dispatched at the sink and prepped in two services. First the head, then the body. Service Each piece was cooked, then served individually. Shrimp heads A crispy opening to the tempura portion of the meal. Some edamame were served first, I believe. Shrimp So, besides the austere philosophical simplicity that drove this meal, there was also a unifying stylistic difference that became apparent to me. The batter coated each piece like a thin sheath rather than enrobe it in a thick, crispy shell. As a result, this tempura batter seemed to flake in crispy chips but lacked that huge crunch that is sometimes quite rewarding. Again, this was new to me, but as the meal progressed began to make more and more sense. This place is all about the ingredients and understatement instead of the relative theatrics of huge shards of crispness commonly associated with tempura cooking. Asparagus The asparagus were literally plucked from the basket, trimmed, dipped in batter then cooked. Beautiful specimens. Shiitake mushroom Working the oil Everything is fried in sesame oil. I found this fascinating as the food lacked any oiliness and the strong aromas that one might expect from sesame oil. There were two large woks of oil, each at a different temperature for different types of frying. Fish This fish was filleted at the sink then fried for us. Beautifully cooked but perhaps a bit too subtle. I wanted some malt vinegar. Is that cheating? Pepper Probably the best vegetable of the evening. Cooked whole, this was pure expression of pepper and turned rather soft and custardy. Fish, redux I liked this fish more, it was eaten whole so was much more potent. Could be a bit much for some. One thing that was particularly interesting about the cooking process was how a quick, single-sided dip in some flour before going into the batter would give the floured side entirely different crust characteristics. The fish, flipped The non-dipped side. Look at how thin the batter is here. Interesting, no? Or maybe I'm just weird like that. Onion This was my least favorite piece. The onion was sweet, but was way too hot to eat immediately. By the time it was a comfortable temperature the crust wasn't as nice. Not as integrated as the other pieces. River eel At least I think that's what this is. This, fittingly, had the thickest coating and was the closest to "normal" tempura. I will say I appreciated the up in the crunch department but also found it to be comparatively more crude than the pieces that preceded it. As with a lot of tempura, this became less about the filling and more about the crust. Kakiage A tempura fritter, over rice, along with miso soup, and pickles. A chazuke broth of near perfect balance was poured over the whole thing. This was really satisfying and delicious. Mango As is typical at a Japanese meal, it ended with some simple, perfect fruit. Here, mango, totally custardy, but, if I'm being honest, a bit tame in flavor. It lacked the spice of the mangoes I've had in more tropical latitudes. This was a really eye-opening meal. To me, a completely new style of tempura, served in a completely new fashion. I'm not sure a restaurant like this would ever find much of a following outside of Japan, however. The whole experience is incredibly ascetic, shockingly simple. It's brash in its very unbrashness and understatedness, if that even makes sense. I certainly believe there are tastier, more fun meals to be had in Tokyo, but this one really exhibited--you'll have to pardon the pretension--a most unique Japanese sensibility.

Have you been, Prasantrin? What did you think? In my opinion, it was really excellent, but I really wouldn't go very often if at all if I lived there. Does that make sense?

Granted, this was a Saturday but reports of an hour-plus wait are the norm. I think the place is still relatively new enough--less than a couple years, I think--that it hasn't reached "it's so crowded no one goes there" status. There were no white folks in line and most everyone seemed like a local, so it's not like its become nothing but a tourist attraction. There are surely still plenty of people in Tokyo who want to try the "best" ramen in the city so the lines are ridiculous. Makes DiFara's look like a walk in the park

Tokyo, Japan, cont'd. For many tourists, waking up at 5 am to get to Tsukiji is like a rite of passage. This is often made easier by the massive jetlag that can strike travelers on their first days dealing with a 13 hour time change. Unfortunately, we had had 2.5 weeks of intense travel and the previous day's crazy schedule to energize us. It was a bit of a struggle, but we got to Tsukiji just before 6 am. Unfortunately we got a bit lost making our way to Sushi Dai despite having been there a few times before. We didn't arrive until almost 6:30 am, and the wait was epic. We were quoted 2.5 hours, and that estimate was spot-on. While in line, my sister and I started chatting with a group of Canadian girls. Of the four only one actually enjoyed sushi, one preferred Western-style rolls, one had never even had sushi, and one was a strict vegetarian. I commended the last young lady especially, though I warned her as good as Sushi Dai was its cucumber and oshinko rolls were perhaps not worst the grueling wait. Personally, I would've stayed at the hotel and slept. But such is the power of Sushi Dai's reputation. While my sister held our spot in line, my mother and I were on a knife scouting expedition. I'm obsessed with Japanese steel and buy all my knives direct from the source at Masamoto Tsukiji. Definitely my favorite knife shop in an area with many great knife shops. We'll get there shortly, however. So, after our seemingly endless wait, we were ushered in. We ordered three omakase sets, advertised at 10 pieces plus a roll, but usually about 11 or 12, for about $45. Again, for Tokyo this is a very good deal. Sushi Dai Now, this place has great fish. That much is obvious. But the most remarkable thing about it is the itamae in this picture. It's been probably 10 years since I was last at Sushi Dai with my family. Most of the time we deemed it not worth the hassle, but as this would likely be my last trip to Japan for quite some time, why not go for it? Anyway, a couple years a go my mother and sister returned for a visit, sat in front of the same itamae and he recognized them both and asked where I was. Remarkable. This time, he recognized us immediately and welcomed us warmly. For the past 20 years this gentleman hasn't taken more than three days of vacation at a time and works in one of Tokyo's busiest sushi bars. It's cool how a place this famous isn't so jaded. Then again, everyone in Japan is polite. Unfortunately, I didn't take notes as to what all the pieces were. I'll describe those that I know. Everything was really excellent. Tuna, obvs Surprisingly, not among my favorite pieces. Fluke, of some type Omelet Served warm. Some form of snapper Uni Awesome. With the omakase the diner gets the option to choose one a la carte choice at the end of the meal. As cod milt I had so wanted to try was unavailable, both my sister and I doubled up on uni. Soy-cured tuna Another of my favorites. I believe my mother doubled up on this one. Scallop Frighteningly sweet. Mackeral, or something similar Pleasantly oily and rich, not at all fishy. Baby shrimp Perfect, custardy. Maki, tuna and pollack roe with cucumber Hamachi (or possibly kanpachi) A half-step below the uni and soy-tuna bombs. Eel Beautifully soft, light in the mouth. The sauce was far from cloying as is often the case. I'll say it was worth the wait. If I lived in Tokyo I'd never ever come here. Not to be too self-important but my time and sleep are just too valuable. With that said, coming to Tsukiji and eating here are truly quintessential Tokyo experiences. Next, it was back to Masamoto to make a final knife selection. I picked up a beautiful slicer and a couple of chef's knives for gifts. The shop Japanese knives on the right, Western on the left. The proprietor This guy remembers us, too. We've bought more than a few knives from him now on our trips. The area around Tsukiji turns into a large market area after the main operations at the commercial fish market wind down. There's ramen, lots of sushi, curry, all kinds of Japanese comfort food. Also, all sorts of vendors. I have to say that even compared to Singapore, Japanese standards of cleanliness, especially in the market and food-production environments really are in a class of their own. Assortment of tuna Many cuts on offer. Very few of them cheap. I also passed by a seafood stall that served live uni, straight from the shell for Y500, or just about $5.50. Dark delights The seafood vendor, a woman in this case, picks up a few, tries to find a heavy one, then proceeds to rip it apart with her bare hands. Uni Visceral, delicious. To be honest, I kind of expected to wait awhile to get into Sushi Dai. Perhaps not 2.5 hours, but it's the most famous sushi spot in the holy land of fresh fish. What I did not expect was to wait two hours and twenty minutes for a bowl of ramen. Yes, seriously. For two relatively cheap meals in Tokyo we waited a total of four hours and fifty minutes. Clearly my devotion knows no bounds. It also helped that we'd been to Tokyo many times and were there only to eat. But anyway, we endured this wait at Menya Kissou, a little ramen shop in a sleepy outskirt of the city. We missed the place by about a block upon first walking by and asked someone in the street as to its location. "Oh," he responded, "It's just one block back that way. Look for all the people in line." And so we did; it wasn't easy to miss them. At 11:20 on a Saturday morning, when most New Yorkers might be vaguely entertaining the idea of getting some food, maybe, there were 70 Tokyoites lined up outside this little shop, ten minutes before opening. I had never seen anything like it. The line before opening It's longer than it looks. It snakes back on itself, Disneyland style, about three times in front of the entrance. Menya Kissou is a fascinating place and served me perhaps my most memorable and paradigm-shifting meal of the entire trip. I'll also disclose up front that I don't have any pictures of the ramen itself. Photos are not apparently not allowed. Neither is talking, but I'll get there shortly. For some illicit pictures I highly recommend you check out this blog post on Exile Kiss. It sums up the experience quite nicely. Part of what makes this ramen interesting is its blended style of broth. It takes the porky richness of tonkotsu ramen and marries that to the ocean-salinity of shio ramen. The effect is quite astounding. So rich, land and sea at once. Silky. Perfect. My mother, was not as big a fan--she found it too fishy--but my sister was equally moved. We ordered both regular ramen in broth and tsukumen, the dipping-style ramen with an even more concentrated broth. I opted for all the add-ins--nori, egg, extra pickles--and still this is less than $20. I'd rather have paid double and waited less but alas that was not the case. If it was just about the broth the place would be very good but otherwise not that remarkable. The noodles, too, however were also exemplary. Nice thickness, great bite, some body and shape, well-cooked. These did not let the dish down. The pork was probably the best cha siu of this style I've ever had. It looked like belly that had been rolled like pancetta. Clean-tasting, thinly sliced, impossibly soft. As for the shop itself, well, like I said it's a fascinating, quirky place. First, it only seats 10 diners at a time. Second, there are only two staff members, a husband-and-wife team presumably, who do all the work. The woman handles the line, takes orders, serves food, buses, and acts as a cashier. The man cooks all the ramen in near silence. In fact, the whole place, whether purposefully or not, feels more reverential than many of Tokyo's temples. The latter can at times feel like tourist attractions, overrun with souvenir shops and vendors and loud groups. At Kissou people come to eat ramen. Slurp, do not talk. In fact, even as we were praising the ramen amongst ourselves the proprietress asked if we might be more quiet. Seriously. While we were by no means being loud, I have to admit we were talking, something the other seven diners in the restaurant were not doing. The place is truly something else. While our experience was surely not enhanced by the wait or the restaurant's numerous quirks it was surely made more memorable for it. I've had some very good ramen in the my day but this was truly on another level. By the time we stepped back into the Tokyo sun, floored by what we had just consumed it was actually too late to make it to the next ramen shop I had wanted to visit. It was past 2 pm, and with a 3 pm closing time at a shop nearly as popular as this one there was no way were getting in. Alas, next time.

Tokyo, Japan At 4 am usually airport food offerings are slim to say the least. I was pleased enough to see signs for a 24-hour food area in Singapore's airport, expecting perhaps an edible pastry or, praise the heavens, a simple rice or soup dish. While only one of the kiosks in said food court was open, we had some very good food. Too tired to take pictures, we tucked into a roasted pork noodle soup and a solid congee. Much better than they had to be with quality that might be expected a hawker center. I'm still of the opinion that Tokyo's handmade noodles were better, but in this last chapter of The Airport Food Showdown, Singapore put forth a very strong dark horse contender. Certainly, 4 am grub in a desserted food court in the Singapore airport garners the people's choice award. Despite the incredibly early departure, Tokyo and Singapore are actually quite far apart. About 6+ hours in the air, I believe. For those unfamiliar, Narita airport is a good ways from Tokyo proper. A 1-1.5 hour train ride is the most common means to get to the city, and a taxi costs well over $200. Welcome to Japan. But going straight from Narita to Tokyo would be much too easy. I've been to Japan many, many times so despite the language barrier there's hardly any intimidation factor. So naturally we had to stop at a random kaitenzushi restaurant located in a suburb of the city. Airport, train, taxi, eat, taxi, train, train, shuttle bus. Finally to our hotel. But it was worth it, you'll see. Kappazushi isn't so much ignored by most sushi fans as it is outwardly scoffed at. Imagine NYC foodies at an automated McDonalds or, perhaps more favorably, Shake Shack. (OK, perhaps this latter scenario would be hailed by some to be among the great inventions of the past century, but you get my drift.) Kaitenzushi are among my most favorite restaurant concepts in the world. Have loved them since I was a kid, still love them now. My favorite as a child was Tsukiji Honten, just a few minutes away from Shibuya station's Hachiko gate. I think in my mid-teens I put away something like 26 plates. Oh, how I yearn for more innocent times. Today, tabelog, a very popular retaurant rating site, has suggested that the restaurant is now a shadow of its former self. At Y105, just over a dollar, for each plate of two pieces, Kappazushi was a frugal choice for our first meal in Japan. But to be perfectly honest, the primary reason I selected Kappazushi was for its oh-so-Japanese technological gimmickry. Namely, the option to order a la carte via touch screen and to receive said orders by an express shinkansen conveyor belt. Hard to understand? Don't worry, pictures should help that. The conveyor belt of delights Par for the course, if a bit sparse, since we showed up shortly after 3 pm. Chawanmushi Something like a signature dish, our taxi driver recommended it. It was quite good all things considered. The touch screen ordering system Very cool, very efficient. One orders up to four items at a time, and they come directly to the table via express train. Next stop, my mouth I was borderline obsessed with how cool and efficient this whole system was. And to make it even better the staff members on the floor couldn't have been nicer. After this most technological meal we went to our hotel, the Prince Park Tower, located between the Akabanebashi and Shibakoen metro stops. Japan's metro and rail network can be intimidating to the uninitiated. Here's a map if you're curious. For dinner we headed we again turned to tabelog and decided to eat at a popular izakaya, Tanto. It took two calls to get them to accommodate us and even then they didn't have an opening until nearly 10 pm. The restaurant is located in the Hachimaki Building at 4-10-11 in the Roppongi neighborhood. Tokyo addresses follow an effectively indecipherable code, so good luck with that. Tanto is a very small restaurant, a couple four-tops in screened off areas, a short wall of deuces, and perhaps one six-top. I'd say the restaurant sits no more than 25 at one time. Like many thousands of other restaurants in Japan it's also quite peculiarly located. The third floor of an unassuming sliver of a building. Tokyo is really one of those cities where hidden gems are the norm rather than the exception. Izakaya cuisine refers to small plates, meant to be eaten while drinking with beer. This was a neo-izakaya of sorts, serving the kind of eclectic, creative food that young Japanese seemingly like to eat. For every Westernized riff on a Japanese classic was a Japanized riff on a Western classic. For those familiar with the kind of new izakaya popular on St. Marks and Midtown East, Tanto is similar, just with much more attention paid to ingredient quality and execution. Negi-toro bruschetta An unimpeachable negi-toro spooned atop grilled bread, drizzled with a light sour cream and tobiko. A quintessential example of this style of cooking. Shrimp, broccoli, bagna cauda I was less convinced by this dish because it was such a far departure from the rustic bagna cauda I associate with Northern Italian cuisine. It was very tasty--both shrimp and broccoli were well-cooked--just a bit strange. This warm salad of sorts is one of their most popular dishes. Jowl kakuni Rather than use the belly as is traditional, the jowl was sliced in 1/2" thick slices and braised. I missed the meltingly soft fat that comes with the belly version, but this offered a meatier, porkier experience. Rather than custardy, the meat, when portioned between us, was almost like a pulled pork. Chicken karaage Another Japanese comfort food classic, these chicken nuggets are usually no larger than an inch by an inch and delicately seasoned before frying. Here, the thigh meat, in much larger pieces, was presuambly marinated in a heavy brine of soy, sake, and sugar. The end result was a much more intense, and not quite as delicate, fried chicken dish. Pizza Yes, seriously. Our waiter not very subtly steered us toward trying one. We chose the version with Japanese mushrooms, bacon, and cheese. I would less call this pizza than a topped flatbread. With that said, it had a certain white trash appeal and the execution was very good. It looks over-topped, I realize this, but the crisp, crackery crust was more than able to stand up to it all. Scallop, uni, tobiko, nori We selected this off the specials menu, and it was quite intense but quite good. A whole scallop, roe and all, was broiled, popped on a sheet of nori, then topped with a generous scoop of uni and a sprinkling of tobiko and chives. Wrap and eat. The texture of the scallop was more baked/broiled than seared, and I think I would've preferred the latter, but overall this was a very cool, luxurious dish. Foie gras fried rice Another unlikely marriage that worked quite well. It was, however, exactly as described and tasted exactly as I imagined. This makes me think the pairing of foie gras and Japanese fried rice isn't necessarily one that is greater than the sum of its parts. Still, you have your typical dashi-tasting fried rice with large hunks of foie gras strewn throughout. Each bite of foie added a noticeable explosion of fatty, livery flavor. Not a dish for those who aren't fans of foie. With a couple beers and this food I think we spent about $45 per person. In Tokyo, if one expects to sit down in any comfort, that's pretty cheap. Our late dinner behind us we returned to the hotel for a few hours of sleep. The next day would bring two meals with excruciating wait times and a third with some two Michelin starred tempura.