Yume Wo Katare

Call me a chicken or call me lame.

Or maybe I'm just not a quite as devoted a ramen fan.

Sure, I'd been curious about Yume Wo Katare even before it opened. Who wouldn't be intrigued by the promise of authentic ramen from Japan, complete with thick, handmade noodles and a rich, flavorful broth?

But then there were the lines. The infamous lines that stretched down the block, especially on weekends. It wan't unusual to wait 2 hours for a bowl of noodles. Of course, from what I heard, the brave souls who waited in these long lines were rewarded with a phenomenal bowl of noodles. Those that were lucky bragged about "only" waiting 20-30 minutes. Those in the know advised going right at 5:00 pm (about an hour before they open).

"Usually they'll open the doors around 5:30 and start letting people in. This way, you only wait 30 minutes."

I live less than a 15 minute walk away from this place, yet I couldn't bring myself to go try it. The uncertainty of potentially having to wait in line for up to two hours most definitely deterred me, big time.


A few nights ago, Bryan informed me that he was going to be late coming back from work. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to try to catch this elusive place at a time when possibly, just possibly the line might be shorter.

We decided to take the chance. It was a reasonably "warm" night out (hey, if it's above freezing here in Boston, we think it's warm), and we were OK going to another backup place in Porter Square if necessary.

Surprisingly, at around 8:30PM, there was no line out the door. Instead, we walked inside, paid for our noodles at the counter, and stood along the wall of the restaurant . . . . waiting. Waiting and watching sixteen other hungry people slurp down their noodles.

Shockingly, within 5 minutes, 4 people finished their noodles and got up to leave.

We couldn't believe it.

We were finally in.

Yume Wo Katare opened in Porter Square (Cambridge) in October of 2012. Chef-owner Tsuyoshi Nishioka has five other ramen restaurants in Japan and decided he wanted to open one up in the US.

It took him awhile to find the perfect location. He tried out a bunch of places, including Hawaii and New York, before settling on Boston. He was searching for a place where there were lots of students - people who didn't have that much money but had huge dreams.

Tell me your Dreams. "Yume" means dreams in Japanese, and "Katare" is tell. 

The tiny restaurant is covered with colorful framed signs describing different people's dreams. You can pay $10 to display your dream for a month; $30 for 3 months; all the way up to $10,000 for 10 years (would that guarantee that he would stay open in that location for 10 years? - perhaps "until 2030" like the sign promises?).

Chef Nishioka is passionate about his ramen. He wakes up early each morning and spends two hours making the noodles by hand.

I asked, "muzukashii desu ka?" (isn't that difficult?)

He smiled and replied (in Japanese), "I have been doing this for ten years. I made ramen for ten years in Japan, so now it is not so difficult."

The pork bone "tonkotsu" broth (not to be confused with the breaded pork cutlet called "tonkatsu") is simmered gently for over 24 hours, never allowed to actually boil. What results is this thick, rich broth full of collagen, pork fat, and tons of flavor. Some liken it to a light gravy almost.

The restaurant specializes in one dish and one dish only: Jiro-style pork ramen. This style of ramen typically comes with thicker noodles (made from higher gluten bread flour), chashu pork and belly, and a thick, fatty pork bone broth. A pile of lightly blanched cabbage and fresh bean sprouts feebly attempts to balance out all that porky richness.

This unusual style of ramen (which some ramen purists refuse to acknowledge as ramen) started in Mita near Keio University at a place called Ramen Jiro. The gargantuan portions of noodles and pork became a hit with students who were looking for delicious, hearty food at a good value.

Especially popular with young college males, it soon became a lauded feat if one could polish off the entire bowl of noodles in its entirety - every single thick slice of fatty pork, the huge pile of dense noodles, the gobs of fresh garlic, and that ultra rich broth. It became a bragging right in and of itself.

Since then it has gained a cult following in Japan, spawning off over 30 other branches across Tokyo alone.
Bryan's bowl with extra vegetables and 5 slices of pork

At Yume Wo Katare, the choices are simple:

First, do you want 2 slices of pork ($12) or 5 slices of pork ($15)?

Second, right before serving you the noodles, the chef will ask you:

Ninniku iremasuka? (do you want garlic?)

I would highly recommend it, as the pungent, raw garlic really helps cut the rich fattiness of the pork belly and the broth. Some would even argue that it's not true Jiro style ramen without the garlic. It definitely offers the needed balance. Of course, be prepared to smell like garlic the rest of the night, because you get a lot!

Don't worry if you can't remember all this. There is a HUGE sign that explains exactly what the chef will ask you. At the end of the day, you just have to decide whether you want garlic or not.

Jen's bowl with 2 slices of pork

If you want to be authentic, you reply with "hai!" (pronounced "hi"). Of course, he understands a tiny bit of English. Bryan was so taken aback by the rapid Japanese that came out of Chef Nishioka's mouth that he just sort of looked confused and said, "I'm sorry, I don't speak . . ."

Chef Nishioka kindly repeated in English, "garlic. do you want garlic?"

You can also ask for extra vegetables, which Bryan did. It means you get a much bigger pile of the blanched cabbage and bean sprouts. Extra pork fat is the last option, but neither of us asked for it, since we already thought the soup had plenty of fat.

How does it taste?
It's is definitely different from any other ramen you can get in Boston.

The broth is deep, rich, intensely flavorful, and also quite fatty. It's very soul-warming on an icy cold day. I can just imagine how satisfying this bowl of soup would be for someone who has been standing out in the cold for two hours, starving.

The pork belly is lusciously melt-in-your-mouth soft and very flavorful. One of my pieces had less fat (perhaps it was pork shoulder?) and was just a bit tougher than the round slices of pork belly. I guess it depends on which pieces you get. The vegetables are fine - simply blanched, they are probably there more for texture than flavor. This dish is seriously all about the pork.

And the handmade noodles are great. Bryan especially liked that part.

"These are better than the noodles at Ippudo," he said.

Some may think Chef Nishioka is a ramen nazi of sorts. After all, there are many rules by which you must play if you want to eat here.

First of all, he only speaks Japanese. I almost felt like I was in Japan as I stepped into this little place - everything from the traditional "irasshaimase!" (welcome) that's yelled out right when you enter to the use of various Japanese phrases used throughout (like the garlic one).

Second, the place is cash only and they aren't shy about (gently) kicking you out of your seat if you're done. After all, there's almost always a huge line outside, and they try their best to move things along. We must have hit a lull, because by the time we left around 9PM, the line had started growing again.

Finally, everyone over the age of 12 must order a bowl of noodles - no sharing (even though the portion is huge!). They don't do take-out, and you can't take any leftovers home with you.

This rule was the hardest for me. On the one hand I felt terrible about throwing away so much of his labor-intensive handmade noodles and 24-hour broth. On the other hand, the idea of eating that entire bowl of pork belly, fat, and thick noodles just made me feel a bit sick. I was seriously stuffed even after eating just about half the bowl.

It looks like I didn't even make a dent, but this is what I had to leave behind.

Thankfully, Bryan did eat some of my noodles afterwards. I was seriously impressed with Bryan. Not only did he finish his own entire bowl (which was the bigger one with five pieces of pork), he made a sizable dent in my bowl of noodles.

At Yume Wo Katare, the chef will personally say "good job!" to you if you are able to finish your entire bowl.

Is it worth the hype?

Wow, that's a hard question.

The dish, as a whole, is very good with excellent execution on all fronts. The ramen broth is richly flavorful and the pork belly is luxuriously soft and tender. It's hard to get handmade noodles in Boston, so we really appreciate the care and dedication that Chef Nishioka puts into making them every morning. They have a decent "Q" to them, though I would still classify them as soft noodles.

This is the type of ramen that's hard to eat on a regular basis. It's just so rich and heavy, you're really kind of wiped out by the time you finish a meal here. Forget about trying to get some work done. Just go straight to bed with your pork-fat induced food coma.

I do love the concept of this place, and I liked being there. It transported me back to Japan, which made me very happy. In my own perfect world, I would be able to order a smaller portion size or take home leftovers. I wouldn't mind a wider variety of vegetables, and Bryan was sort of wishing for some hot sauce.

Of course, these are matters of preference, and it's more of a reflection of our personal opinions on Jiro-style ramen than on Chef Nishioka himself. Personally, I think Chef Nishioka is doing a fantastic job, something that is clearly, clearly evidenced by the popularity of this place.

Chef Nishioka will be going back to Japan for about a month (between April 7 and May 6th), during which time Yume Wo Katare will be closed. Update! He has postponed his trip. So you can still go get noodles!

If you want to get a taste of that ramen, I'd suggest trying to go in the next month or so when the colder weather is still a bit of a deterrent for some. Otherwise, if you try to come back after May, you may be faced with those scary 90-120 minute waits again.

I love the fact that more and more Japanese places are opening up around Porter.

Seriously, perhaps I'll have to consider buying a 10-year "dream" just so he won't leave the area anytime soon.

Yume Wo Katare
(Porter Square)
1923 Massachusetts Ave
Cambridge, MA


Sources: Ramen Tokyo Rameniac NYTimes CNN

Nobu Miso Black Cod

There are certain dishes that are foolproof and just right. These dish have that magical combination of ingredients that really don't need to be (and arguable can't) be improved. They are already perfect. I believe this Nobu black cod recipe just might be one of them.

I saw "sablefish" in the frozen section of Trader Joe's the other day. Sablefish (also called "black cod" or "butterfish"), is a buttery, high fat white-fleshed fish that can be found in the Pacific Ocean, both near Alaska and also the US Pacific Northwest.

Sablefish is very nutritious, having about the same amount of omega-3 fatty acids as salmon. It's a rich, fatty fish which seems to "melt in your mouth" like butter, thus the nickname "butterfish."

I love this simple yet super flavorful recipe from Nobu's cookbook. This rich fish picks up tons of umami from the magical combination of miso, sake, and mirin. It's foolproof, super easy, and tastes fantastic every single time.

Heat shiro miso (white miso paste) together with sake, mirin, and sugar in a saucepan until everything is melted. Marinate the black cod overnight (you don't have to use a vacuum bag, but I like to maximize the amount of fish that "fits" with a certain amount of marinade, and I find I can save on marinade if I use the bag).

The next day, try to remove as much marinade as possible from the fish (I wiped it off with my fingers). Then simply sear the fish on a hot cast iron skillet until nicely browned (2 minutes), and then finish in a  400 °F oven for about 10 minutes, or until flaky and done. You can use the broiler instead if you don't want to sear.

Serve!

This recipe is forgiving of mistakes and it can still tastes pretty good despite minor mishaps. The first time I made it, my oven wasn't nearly hot enough, so my "broiled" fish became more like a steamed fish. It looked awful, but it still tasted pretty good. The marinade speaks for itself. Also, sablefish is pretty rich, so you can overcook it a bit and it won't taste completely dried out. In other words, if I want something easy that's reasonably foolproof, this isn't a bad dish to make!

Enjoy!

Nobu Miso Black Cod
Source: Food and Wine from Nobu Matsuhisa
1/4 cup mirin
1/4 cup sake
4 T white miso paste
3 T sugar

Bring mirin and sake to a boil. Add white miso paste and mix until smooth. Add sugar and heat until melted. Let cool. Combine with black cod and place in a vacuum bag or a baking dish, making sure the fish is completely covered. Let marinate in the refrigerator overnight.

Preheat oven to 400 °F. Heat up a cast-iron skillet (or grill pan) and briefly sear the fish until it is browned (about 2 minutes). Cook in the oven until flaky, about 10 minutes.

Serve!


And it's not too late to vote for my lamb recipe here! We're getting down to the wire, with only a few days left for voting. If you haven't voted yet, please stop by. No registration or anything necessarily - just click and vote! 

Have a great day!

The Dining Alternative

Supper Club? Not exactly . . . way too refined for that.

Underground restaurant? Hmmm, maybe a bit closer.

Bryan and I had a unique opportunity to enjoy a delightful evening at the home of Chef Peter Ungár and his wife, Ginhee. This wasn't just an ordinary dinner party. Instead, Chef Ungár is a private chef with a pretty impressive background. He recently returned from Paris, where he worked for a year as a poissonnier at the two-star Michelin restaurant Le Grand Véfour.

Chef Ungár's past experience includes spending several years in Boston with the Four Seasons, gaining experience at restaurants such as Aujourd'hui and The Bristol Lounge. More recently, he has worked as a private chef for his own company, The Dining Alternative, which includes these 9-course "Chef's Table" dinners at his home.

One a chilly January evening, Bryan and I receive an email with a location in Somerville and a time of arrival.

It is a bit unnerving, but we drive up to the house, ring the doorbell, and enter Peter and Ginhee's warm and inviting home.

We are immediately greeted personally by Chef Peter, his wife Ginhee, and the sommelier who is helping out with the wines that evening. In a matter of minutes, our coats are whisked away and we are holding glasses of biodynamic champagne from France.

There is a flurry of activity in Chef Ungár's kitchen, where multiple chefs work feverishly to plate the first course, a series of "amuses" for the guests to enjoy with their bubblies.

Chef Ungár personally presents each individual platter to the guests, explaining how each bite was made. We try Rice Smoked Ocean Trout with Lime (top left) , Paprika Thyme Puff (top right), and the Black Olive and Edamame Mousse with Speck (bottom left). My favorite is the Paprika Thyme Puff, which reminds me of a gougere.

WINE: CHATEAU LA TOUR GRISE 2001 SAUMUR, BRUT NON DOSE

Soon after we finish the pre-dinner bites, we sit down at our "assigned" seats. We soon get to know the people who sit around us, which is fun. On my left side is a chef who works in a high-end Japanese restaurant in Portland and totally shares my love of food. On my right is a couple who loves to travel as much as we do. I am totally soaking up information about all sorts of interesting trip ideas, such as visiting Alba during white truffle season (can you imagine??!). I like how the dinner brings together people with similar interests over excellent food and wine.

Chef Ungár takes great care of us, carefully explaining each dish as he brings them out. Chef Ungár is fanatic about trying his hardest to use locally sourced, sustainable, and high quality product. More than once he emphasizes how he only picks out the best parts of a particular cut of meat for the courses he prepared.

Just one look at his kitchen and you can tell that he's extremely organized and meticulous about his work.

Our first course is Sea Urchin, a delicately presented Japanese-style "chawanmushi" (egg custard) served with black trumpet mushrooms and shaved black winter truffles. Bryan loves the strong uni flavor in the dish, which works nicely with the delicate egg custard and the mushrooms. I love the presentation and the delicate egg custard, but I find the pungent uni flavor a bit too strong for me.

WINE: VIGNOBLE REVEILLE 2011 BLANC DE POT COTES CATALANES ROUSILLION, CARIGNAN BLANC

One of my favorite dishes of the evening is the Sea Scallop, served in a gorgeous scallop shell on top of a velvety sauce with flavor elements of yuzu, pomelo, preserved lemon, and avocado oil cream. I already love yuzu (a Japanese citrus), so it's no surprise that I love this zesty combination of flavors. Of course, the fresh scallops, which are nearly raw, are incredibly fresh and sweet.

WINE: PASCAL PIBALEAU 2011 TOURAINE, CHENIN BLANC
One of Bryan's favorite dishes is the Hand rolled Seaweed Pasta (painstakingly rolled out one by one!), which comes with Hen of the Woods Mushrooms (also known as maitake in Japan) and anchovies in a flavorful kelp broth poured table side. I love the Japanese influence in this - everything from the maitake mushrooms to the kelp flavored broth. Of course Bryan loves the texture of the homemade noodles, but more than that, he really appreciates the complex mix of umami in the flavors, contributed by the crunchy anchovies, earthy mushrooms, and kelp broth.

WINE: CHATEAU LA TOUR GRISE 2011 ZEC ROSE, CABERNET FRANC

The lovely, delicate Sea Bream is served on top of a bright red rhubarb sauce and served alongside beetroot "roses" and a gorgeous "roll" that incorporated elements of pomegranate, campari, and sake.

WINE: PASCAL PIBALEAU 2009 CREMANT DE LOIRE ROSE, GROLLEAU

The meatier Monkfish comes with fennel braised in milk jam, an intense parsley sauce, and micro-diced cucumbers served with browned butter.

WINE: CHATEAU DE RONTETS 2009 CLOS VARAMBON POUILLY FUISSE

We pause for a palate cleansing "course" called Schisandra Berry, inspired by a Korean drink called omija cha, so called because this tea is supposed to embody all five flavors in one drink: sweet, sour, salty, bitter, and "pungent". Chef Ungar's version comes with a pine nut cookie on top.

We try to taste all five flavors, but frankly, I'm not sure if I can taste all five.

Chef Ungár makes good use of sous vide as a cooking technique. Here you can see him using a blowtorch to char a piece of duck that was cooked under sous vide.

This Miso Cured Duck is one of the most time-consuming dishes to make. Chef Ungár prepares and cures this duck for over a week. It is then served with various "sheets" of flavor, such as pear, daikon, and celery, along with smoked sea salt and an edamame foam.

Bryan and I both love this dish. I don't usually love duck, but I have to admit that this miso-cured duck is fantastic. The miso adds a lovely umami depth to the duck. Furthermore, the sous vide treatment results in gorgeously tender and juicy pieces. This is definitely another highlight of the evening.

WINE: VALENTIN ZUSSLIN 2010 CLOS LIEBENBERG RIESLING ORSCHWIHR, ALSACE

The Dry Aged Rib Eye & Cap of Beef comes with a red curry foam and dots of an intense cilantro sauce. The presentation for this dish is creative: Chef Ungár served two different pieces of beef but tried to make them look the same. I can't remember the details, but he somehow cut the rib-eye and shapes it in such a way so that it resembles a cap of beef. It is interesting to eat these side by side.

WINE: VIGNOBLE REVEILLE 2010 FRANC TIREUR COTES CATALANES, 100+YEAR OLD CARIGNAN

For our first dessert, we again are influenced by Japan with this Green Tea Meringue which has been browned with a blowtorch (and thus smells like fire-toasted marshmallows!).  This comes with a mango lime "pudding" (more like a thick sauce) and homemade ginger ice cream.

WINE: VALENTIN ZUSSLIN 2008 BOLLENBERG, VENDANGE TARDIVE GEWURTZTRAMINER
The next dessert is Guava + Chocolate. This gorgeous plate consists of a deep, intense chocolate "cake" (I would almost call it a fudge!) topped with a macadamia nut "crust" and served with rings of guava sauce.

WINE: BRUNO VERDI 2010 SANGUE DI GIUDA OLTREPO PAVESE, BONARDA / BARBERA

Finally, we are given Parting Morsels, which include rose beet marshmallow, chocolate almond shell, and pear lemongrass "chew" (like a pate fruit).

At this point, people are chatting as if they have known each other for years. The atmosphere is noticeably livelier. I'm sure the wine didn't hurt either!

I am surprised at what a lovely time I had. Seriously, I wasn't sure what to expect. Would most people enjoy going to a dinner party with strangers? It's surprisingly enjoyable.

Chef Ungár still has these tastings a couple times a month. You buy tickets beforehand ($150 all-inclusive of wine pairing, tax, and gratuity). Seating is only limited to 12 guests per dinner, so the environment is most definitely intimate and cozy. In fact, more often than not, by the time you leave the place, you've made more than a few friends. It's a fun and unique dining experience, for sure.

Chef Ungár is planning to open a restaurant with this dining concept soon (he's currently looking at locations in Boston). Diners will sit in a bar-like setting where chefs cook right in front of their eyes. This allows them to hand food to the diners the moment it's done. It's a chance to taste food at its freshest, it's best. It sort of reminds me of one of my favorite restaurants in Las Vegas.

I'm really excited about this. Bryan and I *really* enjoyed the cozy evening we had at Chef Ungár's home. Chef Ungár and his staff know how to create a warm and inviting atmosphere in which guests can enjoy stunning food, great conversation, and excellent service.

Bryan especially loved the ambiance of eating in a home setting and seeing the chefs cooking up close. He even said, "if he [Chef Ungár] can recreate that same type of experience in a restaurant setting, I would totally go."

I personally really admired Chef Ungár's devotion to food itself. He is fanatic about everything local and seasonal, going out of his way to carefully source his ingredients. He is also very interested in biodynamic wines. In fact, almost every single one of our wines that evening were biodynamic wines from France.

Frankly, even though $150 sounds like a lot, it's really quite a great value when you consider that you're getting 9 courses, 10 different (smaller) glasses of wine, tax and gratuity all-inclusive. At our meal, we had 12 guests and 6 people working in the kitchen. That's a 2:1 guest: staff ratio - seriously pampered!

Let's hope the best for Chef Ungár as he continues to seek out a space and (hopefully) make this restaurant a reality. I can't wait!

The Dining Alternative
Somerville, MA


Disclaimer: Bryan and I did not pay for this meal. All opinions are my own.

Sukiyabashi Jiro

This is the eleventh and final post in the series titled Tasting Tour of Tokyo detailing my recent trip to Japan. Other posts include Kikunoi Akasaka, Rokurinsha, Mikawa Zezankyo, Kaoriya, Sushi Sawada, Sushi Aoki, Street Food in Tokyo, Omotesando Koffee,Ukai-tei, and Japan's Underground "Depachika" Markets

Dreaming of Sushi
How often does one get to personally taste the handiwork of a man who has been obsessively honing his craft for over seventy-five years?

Meet Jiro Ono, one of the most famous sushi masters in the world. The Japanese government considers him a "national treasure." The Michelin Guide has awarded him its highest honor, three Michelin stars. Many world famous chefs, such as Eric Ripert and Joel Robuchon, consider him one of the best sushi chefs in the world. Anyone who has seen the movie Jiro Dreams of Sushi understands the devotion, dedication, and near-obsession this eighty-six year old man has for the art of creating perfect sushi.

His perfectionism is evident in the way he runs his restaurant. Apprentices begin by learning how to wring out hot towels for guests. For months, all they do is wash dishes and clean, only saying "yes, yes" and never talking back. Eventually, they are "promoted" to other tasks, such as making rice and massaging octopus (for up to 45 minutes to make it soft!). Somewhere in the middle of all this, they finally get the chance to touch fish, make tamago, and eventually - the holy grail - work the front counter with Jiro.

Jiro's restaurant, Sukiyabashi Jiro, has been called one of the most difficult reservations to get in the world. This tiny sushi bar is hidden in the basement of a subway station and only has ten seats. Rumor has it that they only speak Japanese and thus won't even talk to foreigners who try to reserve in English. You may need to book up to a year in advance. Forget modern conveniences like email or credit cards at this old establishment.

I'd heard about this place years ago when I started researching restaurants to try in Tokyo. However, it wasn't until recently that I more deeply appreciated the back story of this little place.

"Jen, you have to watch Jiro Dreams of Sushi. I think you'll love it."

My friends had purchased the Blu-ray disc after seeing the movie because they loved it so much. Soon after we watched it, Bryan declared that he wanted to go to Jiro. Unfortunately, it was just about a month before our Tokyo trip. The likelihood of booking anything so late into the game looked extremely grim. Nevertheless, Bryan's pretty relentless when he really wants something, and will pursue as hard as he can until he gets what he wants.

First Attempt

"Ring . . . . Ring . . ."

"Moshi moshi?"

[in my broken Japanese] "May I make a reservation for dinner?"

[still in Japanese - this is a paraphrase since I'm really not sure I understood everything he said]
"We are sorry. We cannot take the reservation. Please call your hotel concierge and have them make the reservation for you."

I turned to Bryan.

"I'm really sorry, but I tried. They said we need to have the hotel concierge call."

Minor problem: we didn't have a hotel booked yet, which meant there was no concierge.

Second Attempt
Did I mentioned Bryan was motivated? Within a day Bryan informed me, "OK, I've booked a hotel for the trip. Can you email the concierge?"

Soon after, yet another disheartening email:

"Sukiyabashi Jiro is very specific traditional sushi restaurant, having very strict reservation policy. They only take reservation for foreigner who has Japanese friend or who live in Japan. Do you have any Japanese friends or colleague who live in Japan?"

Defeated, yet again.

Third Attempt
Relentless, Bryan contacted his Japanese colleague in Tokyo. The Japanese colleague asked his assistant to call Sukiyabashi Jiro to make the reservation. The restaurant sent an email which included the price of a meal, the cancellation policy, along with other slightly unusual requests, such as "please refrain from wearing a lot of perfume." To confirm the reservation, the assistant hand delivered 20,000 yen cash to Jiro, which Bryan's colleague graciously lent us.

Wow. Crazy.

We couldn't believe it, but we finally had a real, solid - ahem financially backed - reservation to the most sought after sushi restaurant in the world.

Finding Jiro

I know I keep saying this, but it's absolutely true. Restaurants are really hard to find in Tokyo. Even though we are holding really detailed instructions from Bryan's Japanese colleague's assistant (who is truly sweet in trying her hardest to take care of us), we still get lost.

Pictured above is the corridor at the Ginza Subway Station into which you need to turn (C6).

We blindly walk past these glass doors the first few times, heading instead straight up the steps out into the street.

Finally, after asking a store clerk (who chuckles and says, "actually, Jiro is right underneath this store"), we head back down the stairs and notice (for the first time) a set of bright gleaming doors.

If you don't read kanji, it's easy to miss the sign that says "Sukiyabashi Jiro." One easy way is to note that Jiro is right next to Birdland (a very well known yakitori place), whose sign is written in English.

Once you enter the doors, you'll see Birdland on your left and the humble sliding doors of Jiro straight ahead. It is surreal seeing the restaurant for real after seeing it so many times in the movie.

As we enter, we see both Jiro and his elder son, Yoshikazu, who is also a key character in the movie. It is so weirdly familiar, even though we've never stepped foot into this place.

Bryan starts with cold beer, and then we also order a bottle of sake to go with the meal. I am tickled by the cute little gold flower that lazily drifts to the bottom of my cup.

We sit right at the end of the bar. This is good and bad, I guess. Bad because we are sort of far away from Jiro, which means we can't really see his magical sushi-making skills up close. Good, because we feel a bit removed from his serious probing stare, which often makes diners nervous because they feel pressured to eat quickly. Sitting a bit "away" from the rest of the diners gives me a chance to relax, take my photos, and  enjoy my bites at my own pace.

The Sushi
Jiro's restaurant only serves sushi. No sashimi, no appetizers, no side dishes. They ask you your drink order, present you with the list of sushi being served that day, and then ask if you have any allergies. The menu is translated into English, which makes things a lot easier.

It's been widely reported that a meal at Jiro flies by, with sushi being thrown at you almost a piece per minute. Diners lament about feeling "rushed", pressured to finish a meal in 20 minutes under the watchful eye of Jiro. One article sums it up quite bluntly, calculating that a meal at Jiro will cost you about $20/minute. Our experience is not quite so rushed; however for fun, I wrote down the times so you could get a sense of the pace of our meal.

I will confess that photographing probably slowed me down a tad, though I pretty much kept up the pace. There was one point where Bryan started beating me and Jiro began giving pieces to Bryan only (!!!). I quickly fixed that, and I believe at the end we both received equal amounts of sushi.
7:01
karei (sole fish)

We start with a gorgeous piece of karei. Immediately, the fantastic rice texture jumps out at me. This is among the best sushi rice I've ever had. Eric Ripert has called Jiro's rice "a cloud that just explodes in your mouth". Jiro sources his rice from a very particular rice purveyor, a person who saves his best rice for Jiro and refuses to sell to anyone who cannot give the rice its proper glory (including the Grand Hyatt in Tokyo!).

Jiro's rice is slightly warm (like body temperature) and soft, yet you can still taste each individual grain. I haven't had such good rice since my meal at Mizutani, whose chef is one of Jiro's proteges.
7:03 Sumi-ika (Squid)
In the movie, we learn that Jiro's apprentices massage octopus for 45-50 minutes in the morning before cooking it. Jiro has learned that octopus needs to be massaged this long, not the 30 minutes he was taught. I regret that the octopus does not appear on our menu. However, the sumi-ika (squid) is one of the best I've ever had. It is insanely soft (not a tad bit of rubbery-ness), yet has a distinct "bite" to it. It's hard to explain, but it goes perfectly with the special rice. It makes me seriously wonder whether he massages his squid too.
7:05 Inada (Yellowtail)

At Sukiyabashi Jiro, as it is with many other high-end sushi restaurants, you don't dip the sushi into any soy sauce or wasabi. Jiro tailors the flavor exactly as it should taste, and you just eat it. For many pieces, including the one pictured above, Jiro brushes just the right amount of soy sauce on top. The wasabi is already inside, so the bite is already perfect as is.

Bryan quickly notices that Jiro's wasabi is a lot stronger than ones he's tasted at other sushi establishments in Japan. Up to this point, I had pretty much conceded that freshly made wasabi in Japan is sweeter and more flavorful, but definitely packs less of a punch. Jiro shows us otherwise.
7:06 Akami (tuna)
We move onto a mini-tasting of tuna, beginning with a simple akami (red tuna) and ending with a couple pieces of chutoro (tuna belly).

Tuna in Japan is completely different from most tuna in America. Before I tried tuna in Japan, I used to dislike tuna sushi because I thought it was bland and flavorless. There is nothing further from the truth. Tuna in Japan has beautifully complex flavors. In fact, it is probably one of my favorite sushi fish in Japan.
7:08 Chutoro (semi-fatty tuna)

Jiro sources his tuna from one very particular tuna dealer at Tsukiji Fish Market who possesses similar levels of obsession about tuna quality. Jiro ages his tuna for ten days, which results in a much more flavorful piece of tuna. The resultant fish stands up well to the strongly vinegared rice, another very signature (and polarizing) aspect of Jiro's sushi.

A lot of Japanese cuisine is defined by subtle flavors. Jiro's sushi definitely pushes the bolder edge of the envelope with its stronger flavors. The rice is more strongly vinegared and the wasabi has a bigger punch. Not everyone prefers his strongly vinegared rice, but it definitely holds up well to many of the stronger flavored sushi pieces. Bryan has always loved strong flavors, and thus prefers Jiro's sushi to most others he's ever had.
7:09 Chutoro (semi-fatty tuna)
I can't get over the intricate "veins" of fat distributed throughout this piece of fish. Jiro has truly procured some of the best tuna belly from the fish market. I find it interesting that there is no otoro (the fattiest tuna belly) on the menu. I can only conclude that there wasn't a piece that was good enough for Jiro's standards that morning.

It's quite alright, actually. I am quite content enjoying my pieces of akami and chutoro.
7:11 kohada (gizzard shad)
Jiro makes sushi in the Edomae tradition. Edomae (often just called "Edo" style sushi) refers to a style of sushi that emerged in the late 1800's in Japan. Edomae literally means "in front of Edo", and the style uses only fish and seafood available during the Edo period when Tokyo was a shogun capital.
7:14 Mushi-awabi (abalone)
Those that stay true to the style only use seafood from Tokyo Bay. Typically, they cure or marinate the fish, using techniques that were common back in the Edo days prior to the invention of refrigeration. This means that some pieces may taste saltier or more preserved. Even Jiro's strongly vinegared rice is sort of a nod to the Edomae tradition.
 7:15 Aji (Jack Mackerel)
Aji, another one of my favorite fish, is fabulous. I am loving the perfection of his rice along with the insanely high quality of the fish. Yes, I've only been here for 15 minutes, but it already feels like I've been here for quite some time.
7:17 Hamaguri (Clam shell)
Typically I'm less of a shellfish type of person and prefer raw fish sushi over most types of shellfish. For some reason I don't notice this while I'm at Jiro, even though over half the menu is not fish. He's somehow crafted the tasting menu in a way that keeps me interested.
 7:19 Iwashi (Sardine)
One way in which he does this is to intersperse pieces of fish between every few pieces of shellfish.
7:21 Kurumaebi (Prawn)
The fresh prawn is served in two pieces. Though it is juicy and sweet, I actually think that it's still not as good as the "super fresh" one I've had Kyubey, which, admittedly, was killed in front of my eyes just minutes before I ate it.
7:26 Akagi (Ark Shell)
Though most pieces have been coming out every 1-2 minutes, there is a five minute gap between the previous piece and this next piece of akagai (ark shell). It turns out Jiro has left the sushi bar temporarily in order to take a photo with a guest who is leaving. We take a mental note to remember to ask him for a photo at the end.

We do love the akagai, which has a unique, almost crunchy, texture that sort of "pops" as you bite into it. It is surprisingly good, and becomes one of our favorite shellfish pieces.
 7:28 Katsuo (Bonito)
Katsuo, or skipjack tuna, has always been one of my favorites. Here's it is just slightly cured (or salted?) and tastes phenomenal.
 7:31 Shako (Squilla)
The shako is probably the only one I don't really like. The texture is unlike any sushi I've ever had. It sort of reminds me of dried shrimp - mealy and a bit crumbly. Bryan enjoys it, saying that the deep umami flavors remind him of unagi (freshwater eel). I can sort of see where he gets that, although the texture is so different from unagi that I can't seem to quite agree 100%.
7:32 - Uni (Sea Urchin)
The uni is fantastic, just like most of the uni I've tried in Japan. It's sweet, creamy, and has absolutely no hint of the funky "stinkiness" that I associate with most of the uni I've tried in the US.

I'm hesitant that it will fit in my mouth in one bite, but Bryan insists it's the only way to truly enjoy it. He's right. I love how the uni just dissolves and incorporates itself all around the perfect rice. Quite a heavenly bite, I must say.
7:37 - Kobashira (Baby Scallops)
Kobashira (baby scallops) are piled on top of a gunkan (warship) roll, a style first invented at Kyubey. These scallops are super sweet and also very oishii (delicious).
 7:40 Ikura (Salmon roe)
Ikura (salmon roe) is bursting with its fragrant, flavorful, briny juices. Again, underlying all of these pieces, it's the perfect temperature of every component plus the texture of the special rice that creates each ethereal mouthwatering bite.
 7:42 Anago (Sea Eel)
The anago is melt-in-your-mouth soft. This is the type of bite that makes me close my eyes and just revel in its perfection. I love the slightly sweet sauce that's brushed on top.
 7:46

And then - the signal that things are about to end - the perfect tamago.

Getting the tamago (egg omelet) right appears to be a near-impossible goal for young apprentices at Sukiyabashi Jiro. In the movie, one of the senior apprentices, Daisuke Nakazawa, describes how he made over 200 tamago - all rejected by Jiro - before finally achieving spongy, custard-like perfection. When Jiro finally indicated his approval, Nakazawa wept like a baby.

The tamago here is awesome. Blended somehow with fish paste and sugar (among other ingredients), the tamago is sweet yet definitely has underlying tones of subtle umami. The razor-thin edge is gorgeously browned, and the entire piece is luxuriously spongy, moist, and soft. It almost tastes more like a delicate sponge cake than a traditional omelet.

We slowly take small bites out of it, savoring each small piece.

It has been exactly 45 minutes since we tasted our first bite.

At the end of the meal, Jiro comes and asks whether we want any extra pieces. I am seriously stuffed at this point, and I tell Bryan I can't do it.

Bryan's rationale?

We may never, ever get the chance to try this man's sushi again. If there are ones we want to try again, we should do it.

Bryan orders three extra: akami, chutoro, and tamago. That's right - the egg omelet was that good.

When we finally finish all the sushi, we are whisked off to a side table for "dessert".

8:04  melon
One of the apprentices hands us each a simple slice of melon accompanied by hot tea. The melon is ripe, super juicy and sweet. It's actually a refreshing end to a clean meal, and I feel energized.

We take our time here. There's less pressure to eat quickly since we are at the end of the meal.

8:30 
At this point, Jiro seems much more relaxed as well. The restaurant has virtually cleared out at this point, and he seems to be chatting up a storm with one of his Japanese customers - perhaps a regular?
I'm surprised that there are no more customers. Soon afterwards, Jiro retires from the sushi bar and sits down near the front, taking a nice, deserved break after a marathon of sushi making (which probably started early in the wee hours of the morning).

As we pay our bill, the apprentice asks us if we want a photo with Jiro.

"Yes, of course, please."

Jiro dutifully stops what he's doing and walks out with us. We don't really know what to say. All my dumbfounded brain can think of at the moment is, "oishii desu, oishii . ." (that was really delicious). I feel stupid that I can't express more than that, considering the life-altering meal we've just experienced.

We take a few photos, and then Jiro walks back into the restaurant as the assistant escorts us outside.


Epilogue
It's interesting to me to see that the restaurant actually was not completely full the night we dined there. Some think that, because Jiro hands out sushi at a rate of a piece a minute, he can really rake in the dough in a night. Just imagine - $400 USD per person, every 20 minutes. You could make a killing each night.

But Jiro doesn't seem to do that. He seems to be quite selective about his customers. My guess is that he tries to leave open some seats for loyal regulars or (perhaps?) even walk-ins? I'm not sure. I was just really surprised that the place wasn't packed. It's nice to think he isn't in it just for the money but instead wants to offer the best, most personalized experience for his diners. That just may mean making only a certain number of pieces of sushi a night.

The night we went, virtually every diner was a foreigner. Most of the diners were snapping photos of the sushi, and I most definitely heard several languages being spoken around the table. It was clear that the fame from the movie had driven even more tourists to seek out his sushi. In some ways, it was weird being one of those tourists in the dining room that night.


Does it live up to its hype?
I think so. Jiro's sushi is incredible and definitely ranks up there as one of the best sushi meals I've ever had. Several things really stand out: the top notch quality of the fish; the incredible sushi rice; and that delicious tamago.

In my mind, Jiro and Mizutani have provided the two best sushi experiences I've ever had in my life. My dinner at Sushi Mizutani felt a bit more personal partly because I was there with mostly local Japanese people (it was right after the earthquake when foreigners were avoiding Japan) and because I had extended heartfelt conversation with Mizutani (though to be fair, he was pretty shy in the beginning of the meal too).

The atmosphere at Jiro felt a bit more serious. There was definitely an air of reverence by all for the grand sushi master. I didn't exchange a single word with Jiro aside from my half-hearted "oishii" at the end of the meal. All the apprentices were courteous and respectful, but they were also quiet and possibly a bit nervous under the great Jiro?

Jiro believes the key to success is to devote one's life to mastering a skill. Interestingly, despite his accolades, he still says, “even at my age in my work …. I haven’t reached perfection.” Jiro continues to strive to improve this craft he started learning at the age of nine.

"I will continue to climb, trying to reach the top, but no one knows where the top is."

It's hard to imagine that sushi can get better than this, but I'm certainly happy to come back again (if I ever get the opportunity), to find out.

Additional Facts
The restaurant is located right inside Ginza subway station at C6. Look for the Birdland sign. The two restaurants are right next to each other.

Sukiyabashi Jiro
Tsukamoto Sogyo Building Basement 1st Floor 2-15, Ginza 4-chome Chuo-ku, Tokyo, Japan
Phone: 03-3535-3600 (+81-3-3535-3600 from abroad)

Reservations: According to their website, you can either call their international phone number or arrange for a reservation through your hotel concierge. However, as you know from my post above, those two avenues don't always work. From what I can tell, foreigners need to have a local Japanese person hand-deliver a 20,000 yen deposit before the reservation is confirmed.

Cancellation Policy: Cancellations can be made up to 1 day before your reservation. If you cancel the same-day, you will be charged 15,000 yen per person.

Cost: There is only one menu (Chef's Tasting), and it costs ~30,000 yen per person. Payment is CASH ONLY. Our meal came out to a total cost of 74,550 yen (71,000 + 3550 tax). We did order a beer, a bottle of sake, and three additional pieces.