Le Cirque (Bellagio)

This is the first post in the Winter in Las Vegas series.

Out of all the lavish and extravagant things to be had in Las Vegas, my absolute favorite thing is actually completely free.

I'll never lose my fascination with the magical fountains in front of the Bellagio. This dramatic 5-minute long show - where water dances in perfect time to the ever-changing music - never ceases to capture me. I can sit all night and stare at the fountains - song after song after song.

In fact, the one time Bryan and I got to stay in a fountain-facing room at the Bellagio (in the dead heat of the desert summer when rates were actually very reasonable), I just sat in our room and stared out the window for several hours, entranced by this captivating show.

There are just a few restaurants that are lucky enough to have that coveted fountain-facing real estate. I had visited one previously (and absolutely fell in love with sitting on the terrace there). This past trip, I got the chance to visit another fountain facing restaurant: the whimsical and playful Le Cirque.

This is the second "flagship" location of Le Cirque. The original restaurant resides in New York, where it's been there for almost forty years. It boasts its own share of famous past chefs, including Daniel Boulud as executive chef from 1986-1992.

The Las Vegas location has been awarded one Michelin Star (interesting the New York one doesn't have one). Gregory Putin is the executive chef at Le Cirque in Las Vegas. Previously, Chef Putin helped Joel Robuchon open up eight new restaurants worldwide, staying on as executive sous chef at L'Atelier de Joel Robuchon in New York for 2 years.

He joined Le Cirque in 2011 after earning a Michelin star as executive chef at Veritas in New York.

The Menu
The menu has many options. There's a Degustation tasting menu for $135 per person (6-7 courses). You can also opt for the pre-theatre menu (available 5:15-6:30), which includes an amuse, two courses + dessert for $72 (+$30 for wine pairing). Finally, there's an a la carte menu, where appetizers cost $31 and entrees $52 (yes, dining on the Las Vegas Strip is just expensive!).

The folks at the Bellagio were kind enough to treat us to a lovely Degustation tasting menu showcasing some of their best stuff.
 We started with the Santa Barbara Sea Urchin “Ice Cream”, which is served with ginger-lemongrass gelée, fennel purée and topped with Osetra caviar and an edible gold leaf. It's creamy, decadent, and clearly meant to impress. How often do you see edible gold in your food?Bering Sea Snow Crab came next with a gorgeous assortment of colorfully plated vegetables, including turnips, avocadoes, granny Smith apples, and pomegranate seeds tossed together in a rosemary vinaigrette. This was paired with a lovely champagne called Ruinart, Blanc de Blancs, Reims, MV
We could smell the next course well before it arrived at our table.

The Nantucket Bay Scallops were covered with gorgeously fragrant shaved white truffles. We seriously couldn't stop inhaling the aromas of our dish before actually tasting it. The scallops sat over a butternut squash purée, thinly sliced jamón Ibérico (my favorite), potato gnocchi, and chestnut espuma.  This was paired with Puligny-Montrachet, Jean Chartron, Burgundy, 2010.New Zealand Langoustine and Foie Gras Royale came wrapped in a thin later of cabbage with black truffles. The soup, a potato and leek velouté (a velvety, creamy soup), was poured table-side. We ate this while sipping on Tokaji, 5 Puttonyos, Royal Tokaji, Hungary, 2008 Alaskan Black Cod was served with crushed fingerling potatoes, grapefruit and “citrus caviar”. A creamy shellfish and coconut nage (a flavorful broth made from shellfish, vegetables, and herbs) was again poured table-side. This came with Condrieu, E. Guigal, Rhone, 2009.New Zealand Cervena Venison was cooked rare and served with a few sticks of spiced squash, quince, and a tiny little cake topped with huckleberry compote. The venison was appropriately served with "Grand Veneur" sauce, a "huntsman's sauce" based on the classic pepper or poivre sauce but made from game meat. This paired with Nuits-Saint-Georges, Vieille Vignes, Patrice Rion, Burgundy, 2009 Japanese A5 Kobe Beef Tenderloin was served with pommes boulangère (French gratin potatoes), cardons gratinés (a cheesy version of a celery-like vegetable), and a croquette filled with Béarnaise sauce. The server told us we were supposed to "crack" the croquette over the A5 beef, thus allowing the creamy and rich Béarnaise sauce to envelop the small piece of beef. This beef was also served with a bordelaise sauce and the entire meal was served with Margaux, Château Giscours, Bordeaux, 2006. Bryan loved this dish and ended up eating half of mine (not the first time this has happened with rich, Japanese steak).

A brief aside about steak in Japan
Just so you can appreciate how incredibly rare A5 steak is, here's a brief aside about Japanese Kobe beef. Unlike in the US, where we just have four grades of beef ("prime", "choice", "select", and "standard"), Japanese beef is rated on multiple different scales. First you have "yield grade" (A, B, or C), which indicates what percentage of good, usable beef you can cut out.

Then you "Total Meat Quality", which takes into account a number of factors, such as meat color and brightness, firmness and texture, fat color, and beef marbling. Most of these are rated from 1-5, except for beef marbling (one of the most important ones!) which is rated on a 12-point scale.

source of chart:  J.R. Busboom and J.J. Reeves Washington State University Pullman, WA 99164

The final score is a combination of the average overall meat quality grade and the yield score. The highest score a piece of meat can achieve is A5: a yield score of A plus a quality grade of 5.

Between 2010 and 2012, it was illegal to import any beef from Japan due to fears about foot and mouth disease. It wasn't until late 2012 that this ban was lifted. Now, if you're lucky, you may be able to find Japanese A5 Kobe beef in a few select places in the US (like here!).

Back to our French meal . . . .

For the cheese course, we enjoyed a few slices of warm Epoisses, a pungeant, creamy, unpasteurized cow's milk cheese with a washed rind. It comes from the French village called Epoisses in Eastern France. This was topped with shaved black truffles and served with bread.For our "Dessert Fantasy", the sommelier brought over one of my favorite styles of dessert wine: Sauternes.  This one is Le Tertre du Lys d’Or, Bordeaux from 2005.  
Each of us received a different dessert, and each one was extravagant and beautiful in its own way. The Boule de Sucre (literally "sugar sphere") comes with chocolate mousse, cranberry gelée, and Oreo dust. Doesn't that just look like a piece of art?
Another delicate dessert came with finely spun sugar threads, ice cream, tiny little batons, and yet another gold leaf.

The Petite Boule de Chocolat has its own dramatic presentation. A perfectly formed chocolate ball, topped with a tiny gold leaf, undergoes transformation when the server pours chocolate sauce over it. As you can see from the photos, the ball dissolves to reveal its insides: a praline mousse, white chocolate ice cream, and a hazelnut caramel crunch.
We thought it was over, but the presentation of Les Mignardises is what really made us gasp. Our little after dinner "bites" came with the most gorgeous sugar swans. It's like hand-blown glass, but with sugar instead. We were floored with the elegance and beauty of the desserts.

And finally, every diner got to take away a small little gift: chocolate truffles are hidden inside those whimsical drawers.

We had a lovely evening at Le Cirque. I would say that the style of dining is pretty traditional upscale French, complete with all your typical "fancy" French ingredients (foie gras, caviar, velouté,  Béarnaise sauce, etc.). There are glimpses of international influences, such as the use of jamón Ibérico (very Spanish), sea urchin (Japanese?), and gnocchi with white truffles (so Italian!). The coconut nage in the fish almost made me think Southeast Asian. In general, however, I still think that the flavors lean towards being more traditional, conservative, and "safe." You won't find anything too crazy here, which is good for events like business dinners and situations where you need to please a wide range of palates.

Well, I guess there is one very unique, very special aspect.

We sat right next to the window, and therefore had a perfect view of the lovely fountain show outside. That combined with those breathtaking desserts, how much more romantic can you get?

Le Cirque at The Bellagio
3600 Las Vegas Blvd
S Las Vegas, NV
89109


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

Sushi Sawada

This is the fifth post in the series titled Tasting Tour of Tokyo detailing my recent trip to Japan. Other posts include Kikunoi Akasaka, Rokurinsha, Mikawa Zezankyo, and Kaoriya.

It’s doesn’t get much more personal than this.

David Chang of Momofuku fame calls it “a breath of fresh air”, naming Sushi Sawada his favorite sushi restaurant in the world. The Michelin Guide has awarded it two stars. It is frequently uttered in the same breath as sushi giants Sushi Mizutani, Sukiyabashi Jiro, and Sushi Saito. Many consider it among the best in Tokyo.

Dining at Sushi Sawada is nothing like eating out in a normal restaurant in Japan. It’s even markedly different from most high-end sushi experiences in Tokyo. Missing are the multitudes of sushi indentured “servants” making rice, massaging octopus, or churning out all sorts of other tasks in the back kitchen. There’s not a single server to take your beer order or bring you more tea.

Instead, it’s just Sawada-san and his wife.

Sawada-san and his wife prepare every aspect of the entire multi-course omakase. You get to watch them from one of six exclusive seats at the tiny sushi bar. It’s an evening full of fascinating visual delights - from the mesmerizing transformation of a piece of fish as it slowly roasts over hot stones to Sawada-san’s ninja-like construction of sushi.


Entrance to the restaurant on the third floor

We arrive on a cool, autumn Sunday just around noontime. Sushi Sawada only takes one seating during lunch, and we are the first to arrive.

A shy but pleasant young woman bows with traditional Japanese humility and offers to take our huge backpacks (filled with camera equipment, among other things) and our coats. The tiny barstools at the small restaurant don’t accommodate such monstrous bags so well.

“Sorry, no camera,” She says.

Apparently, photography is OK as long as there are no other guests dining that day. However, if there are other diners present, the restaurant does not allow photography. In other words, unless if the other seats happen to be empty (very unlikely), or the entire party at the restaurant is part of one group, no photos are allowed.

“Is it possible to take photos until the other guests arrive?”

She bows with the utmost regret.

“So, so sorry, but no. I am so, so sorry.” She bows again.

“Maybe one picture before they come?”

She agrees to let me take one photo. At that moment, Sawada-san enters. I snap a couple quick pictures of the space with Sawada in the background.

Sawada-san setting up

There’s no food, but at least I got the room.

We sit down.

Sawada’s wife asks us what we want to drink, and Bryan orders a Suntory Premium Malt.

Sawada-san hands us each a small, round green “nut” that resembles a green olive. It’s warm, salty, and slightly starchy.  If you're curious what it looks like, check out this photo of the same ingredient from my Kikunoi kaiseki meal earlier that week. It reminds me a bit of a boiled peanut or roasted chestnut, but more flavorful and less starchy. I love it.

“What is this?”

He smiles. “Ginko nut. In season right now.”

Hirame (turbot) is next, followed by hirame fin, which is dense and chewy. Aori-ika (bigfin reef squid), is gorgeously soft yet dense. A juicy and tender piece of abalone is served with a salty jelly, and chutoro (fatty tuna) is blessed as being OK to eat with wasabi and soy sauce.

Sawada’s wife appears in the background and begins preparing hot stones on a miniature “grill” of sorts. It has a wire mesh top on which she places a couple pieces of fish.

We watch, mesmerized by the amber glow of the hot coals. She begins slowly searing two small pieces of fish, patiently turning the pieces with a skewer at regular intervals.

Meanwhile, Sawada continues to serve us. Shimesaba (marinated mackerel), dried sea cucumber egg, and shimotori, a maki roll filled with chu-otoro (half chutoro and half otoro fatty tuna), daikon and wasabi.

Sawada is a master at making rolls, and it’s fun to watch him execute. His knives are razor sharp, and he slices through the rolls with precision. As a palate cleanser, sort of a prelude to the nigiri, Sawada-san constructs a roll that’s just filled with fish, shiso, and chives. A single piece of rice acts as the glue to hold the roll together. It’s refreshingly crisp, successfully cleaning our palates in preparation for the second half of the meal.

We finish this first portion of the meal with a piece of seared otoro (super fatty tuna) with soy sauce. Though mine has just the slightest bit of “stringiness”, overall the piece is fabulous. This is always one of my favorite pieces, and this is no exception.

Bryan finishes his beer, so we switch to junmai sake, a pure grade of sake where no additional alcohol or starch is added during the production process. Sawada's wife refers to it as having a “medium” level of flavor and strength. We find it to be light, refreshing, and a perfect complement to the sushi.

Nigiri
We begin with kisu (smelt or smelt-whiting), a fish that Sawada-san says is “famous for its use in tempura.” Dense and salty, this fish has excellent texture and tastes very good, though it's borderline salty for my tastes. Akagai (giant red clam), is also salty and almost a bit crunchy. I love the fresh, “popping” texture of this fresh clam.

Sawada-san motions his hand towards his mouth.

“Hand eat. Hand eat.”

I don’t know this at the time, but there is an entire article on CNN that highlights Sawada-san’s rules about how to eat sushi.  It’s an elaborate step-by-step photo tutorial that explains how you hold the nigiri (with your hands), flip it on one side, dip the fish part into the soy sauce, and then put it back into your mouth fish side face down on your tongue.

It all makes sense now.

aka (red tuna) and some uni in a basket in the background

The gustatory exploration continues. Shima aji (horse mackerel) is gorgeously soft. It's followed by tairagi (razor clam) and then an ikura (salmon roe) gunkan roll (“warship” roll). I love the fresh flavors of the ikura. It's deep, briny, and flavorful - a far cry from the salt-bombs I've had in the US. Next is a “horizontal” tasting of tuna. We start with aka (red tuna), and progressively move up in fat level to various types of tuna belly: chutoro, chu-otoro, and otoro.

We're far from done. Sawada-san next begins us on a journey exploring Edomae sushi.

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, about a hundred fifty years ago. Those that stay true to the style stick to only using seafood you can find in 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.

Tokyo Bay at Sunset

Katsuo (smoked bonito), is one of my favorites, beautifully smoky and salty. We also enjoy Edo-style ika (baby squid) filled with rice and sesame seeds. Continuing on the Edo journey, we sample Sawada’s own one-week marinated kohada (gizzard shad), which tastes “cooked” and has a tougher texture than the other pieces.

We move away from Tokyo Bay to sample uni (sea urchin) from Hokkaido, which is extremely fresh and sweet though just a tad too cold for my mouth. Anago (saltwater eel) is served cut in half, meant to be eaten two different ways. The first half we dip into wasabi and salt; the second half we dip into soy sauce only. This anago is the best I’ve ever had. It is so incredibly soft (melt-in-your-mouth) and sweet at the same time.

Finally, we end with the traditional piece of tamago (sweet egg omelet), the culminating piece of every omakase that is extremely difficult to execute well. The tamago is often the signature item that separates the mediocre from the masters (just watch Jiro Dreams of Sushi).

Sawada-san's tamago is nicely browned at the top. More like a sponge cake than a typical omelet, this finishing bite is sweet and delicate. Though it's not the most complex tamago I've had, it hold its own and is a perfect ending bite to this meal.

As a parting "dessert", Sawada-san hands us each a single gooseberry.

Fresh gooseberries from Massachusetts

Overall, the entire meal is exquisite. Sawada-san is jovial, outgoing, and friendly despite his limited (but perfectly workable) knowledge of English. At the end of our meal, we have gotten so chummy he’s telling us funny horror stories about his last trip to America.

“America is not like Japan. In America things are so often late! We wait wait wait. Then we fly to the next destination. Then we wait wait wait some more! Delay! Delay! So different from Japan, where everything always runs on time.”

He even share with us some of his favorite restaurants, places he likes to visit when he’s not working. Apparently, the man loves his tempura. In Azabajuban, he recommends Hatanaka Tempura, Gaiyen Mae, and Tempura Motoyoshi as places he likes to frequent.

On our way out, both Sawada-san and his wife treat us with the utmost respect. They escort us to the door, both bowing and wishing us well as we head out the restaurant.


The Details
Similar to most sushi places in Japan, the restaurant is difficult to find. It seems to be customary to only use traditional characters for signs, so don’t expect to see any English signs pointing the way. Memorize the Japanese characters and read closely. Sawada is on the 3rd floor of an elevator building, so you’ll need to find the building before going up. Even with our GPS enabled phones, it still took us a few tries to find the right entrance to the correct building.

Reservations are notoriously difficult to obtain, and the rules surrounding them are unforgivingly harsh. A credit card is required for reservations, and there is a 100% fee for cancellations made with three days of the reservation. I made my reservation through my hotel concierge, who asked me to fax over a form that included my credit card information. The cost of a meal is the same regardless of whether it's lunch or dinner, and will be between 32000 and 35000 yen (all inclusive).

If it helps, I've included a picture of the front of the building below, so you'll have an easier time finding it than I did! The characters for "Sawada"  number 3.


Final Thoughts
Sawada-san is definitely up there with the finest sushi masters in Tokyo. The quality of his fish is as good as it gets, and his sushi rice is excellent as well (though I still give Mizutani and Jiro a slight edge). I thought a few of the pieces were a tad saltier than I preferred, though Bryan thought they were just fine.

Overall, it still sits among the best sushi meals I've ever had. There is no other sushi dining experience that feels quite as personal, exclusive, and warm. It's fun to watch some of his unique techniques, such as the way he cooks his fish over hot stones. He's also really warm and friendly, which always makes a huge difference in the enjoyment of an omakase of this type.

It's not surprising that this is one of the most difficult reservations to get in Japan right now. At least he's young, so hopefully he'll be doing this for a long, long time.

Many opportunities to keep trying for a reservation.

Kikunoi (Akasaka)

This is the first post in the series titled Tasting Tour of Tokyo detailing my recent trip to Japan.

One negative aspect of being a tag-along on your husband's business trip is that you're often alone. After all, he's in the destination to work, which means he can't hang out with you during much of the trip.

Thankfully, Tokyo is an easy city to navigate, and at this point, I know it quite well. I was perfectly happy to spend my afternoons shopping, exploring, and even visiting friends while he was at his conference.

Unfortunately, there were a few nights where he had business dinners and couldn't even eat with me.

Last time that happened, I bought simple take-out at the local depachika (basement of the department store) and ate in my hotel room. This time, I decided to head out into the city and dine solo at one of the most famous kaiseki establishments in Tokyo.

Kikunoi specializes in Japanese kaiseki cuisine, a traditional, multi-course, Japanese meal. Kaiseki meals typically involve the use of fresh, seasonal ingredients prepared in such a way as to emphasize their flavors. The entire experience is a big part of kaiseki cuisine, and therefore the ambiance of the surroundings as well as the artistic presentation of the food are also very, very important.

Kaiseki has been around for over 500 years, starting back in the 1600's when Sen no Rikyu, a tea master in Kyoto, felt that the powdered green tea used during tea ceremonies was too strong for an empty stomach, and needed some food to accompany it.

The original kaiseki meals consisted of just miso soup with three sides, but over the years they have evolved significantly, turning into one of Japan's most elaborate and high-end cuisines. Naturally, Kyoto is famous for its kaiseki cuisine, and houses some of the most famous restaurants.

Yoshihiro Murata is one of the most famous kaiseki chefs in Japan. He has his own TV show and owns three restaurants in both Kyoto and Tokyo, totaling 7 Michelin Stars.

Chef Murata practices a form of modern kaiseki that draws influence from many difference sources, such as imperial palace cuisine, the traditional tea ceremony, shojin ryori (vegetarian temple cuisine), and obanzai (traditional Kyoto cuisine that includes tofu, gluten, vegetables). Murata also derives inspiration from other well-known chefs, such as the famous Ferran Adria (with whom he is close friends) and Nobu Matsuhisa.

Kikunoi is Chef Murata's prized creation. The original flagship Kyoto branch (Kikunoi Honten) boasts three Michelin stars, while the other two "offshoots" (Roan Kikunoi in Kyoto and Akasaka Kikunoi in Tokyo) each have 2 Michelin stars.

Since I didn't quite have enough time to zip to Kyoto on a shinkansen (bullet train), I "settled" for the Tokyo branch in Akasaka.

Like many Japanese restaurants, Kikunoi has a bar area that makes solo dining much nicer. You can interact with the chefs and also watch them cook.

Although the staff's command of English was only so-so, they did have Chef Murata's colorful kaiseki ryori book which includes pages describing (in English!) important details about the dishes I was enjoying.  Furthermore, they had English language menus, which was very helpful.

For dinner, you get a choice between three set-menus. The price difference is based on the expense of the ingredients. Matsutake mushrooms (which are very expensive) were in season during the fall, and thus set menus that included lots of the prized mushrooms naturally cost a lot more.

The prices are 15,750 yen, 18,900 yen, or 21,000 yen. Seeing how weak the US dollar is these days (about 79 yen for every US dollar) , that definitely hurts!

I went with the cheapest one, partly because it had a bit less meat and because it still focused quite strongly on matsutake mushrooms, which I love.
I gasped when the first course came - it was so utterly beautiful. Made to conjure up the image of one "watching the moon from a boat on a lake", this exquisite dish features many seasonal ingredients. Let's take a closer look.

The Grilled Saury Sushi at left was topped with a strongly marinated sea bream which was quite "fishy" and salty. The single pink peppercorn on top gave the entire bite a nice "pop" of flavor that I liked. In the middle front, we have Grilled Chestnut Paste (shaped like a dumpling), while in the back we have Roe bearing Ayu (sweet fish) poached with sansho peppercorns. On the very right, a  half-cut lime is filled with Prawn Marinated in Shao Xing Wine. The alcohol made the dish a bit bitter, almost boozy like Sojo.

Because gingko nuts were in season, we enjoyed a small sampling of Glazed Ginko Nuts topped with a gingko-leaf shaped chip. I loved the gingko nuts. They were warm, lightly salted, and toasted with sake and salt. The intricate pine needles are actually dried green tea noodles, which surprised me with its strong tea flavor!

Next came the Poached Baby Kabura Turnip topped with walnut miso sauce and crushed walnuts. This local Kyoto dish is traditionally served with yuzu miso. Chef Murata's own version uses a beautiful, creamy walnut miso paste which was really, really good. Though I usually don't like walnuts, I couldn't stop eating this dish. The flavorful, umami laden miso sauce worked well to balance the light, steamed turnip, which reminded me of boiled daikon.

Sashimi of Butter Fish and Tai (Red Sea Bream) came with pickled chrysanthemum petals and freshly grated wasabi. The tai was chewy and had a very clean flavor. A flavorful, salty "gel" was sandwiched between one of the fish slices and added flavor to the entire dish. The pickled chrysanthemum was pleasantly not-too-sour, The texture reminded me of tiger lilies we used to eat in Chinese soups.

The next course was Sashimi of Koshibi (young bluefin tuna) topped with a small dab of mustard and served with a soy-marinated egg yolk sauce. The young tuna was buttery soft and picked up the thick, eggy sauce quite nicely. The flavor of this dish was excellent, although it didn't stand out as being particularly unique or unusual.

This next dish was one of my favorites all evening. Hamo (pike eel), Matsutake (pine mushroom), and Mitsuba Herb steamed in a teapot with Sudachi Lime. I love Matsutake mushrooms, and in my opinion, any broth made with these oh-so-expensive mushrooms is heavenly. The eel added needed umami to the fragrant, herbaceous broth. After slowly savoring the golden elixir sip by sip, I opened up the tea pot and ate all the mushrooms inside. The Sudachi lime added a nice, bright citrusy splash to the strong savory notes of the dish (though I don't think I was supposed to pour the tea over the lime - oops!).

The next bite, Salmon Roe with Grated Radish, sounds simple yet was surprisingly really, really good. The slight bitterness of the daikon was nicely balanced by the briny roe.

At this point I was already getting really, really stuffed. Honestly, I almost groaned when I saw the next dish - two whole Salt-Grilled Ayu (Sweetfish) with Roe.  Nevertheless, I had to admit it was an absolutely beautiful presentation.

The chef placed two perfectly grilled fish, sliced so that the roe was spilling out, onto a bed of pine (?) needles and autumn leaves.

I was definitely a bit squeamish about eating a whole fish. I had watched the Japanese ladies to my right eat this, and they polished the entire thing off -head and all! At the end, I couldn't bear to eat those eyes staring at me, so I left the head.

Objectively, the dish was perfectly executed. The fish nicely grilled with a gorgeous char and a crispy tail. Although it was tasty, the dish didn't strike me as mind-blowing (though, to be fair, I was getting stuffed at this point).

Almost like a break, the next course was refreshingly light, a salad filled with Mibuna Greens (A variety of mizuna), Grilled Shitake Mushrooms, Grilled Maitake (Hen of the Woods) Mushroom, and Trout Roe tossed together in a sasame and ponzu dressing. Edible flowers completed the colorful display.

I really liked the use of bonito flakes, which add a bit of umami to the very leafy salad. The flavors were nice, though the salad did not quite strike me as a Michelin-level dish.

The final main savory course was an Anago (sea eel) Baked Custard with Lilly Bulb, Carrots, Shimeji Mushrooms, Mistuba Herb, and Yuzu. The custard was very light and delicate, reminding me of the steamed Japanese egg custard chawanmushi. The custard was only lightly salted, giving you an opportunity to really taste delicate nuances of all the seasonal ingredients inside.

Finally (I was sooo full at this point), they brought over a HUGE bowl of Steamed Rice brimming with Matsutake Mushrooms, Mitsuba Herbs, and Yuzu. I was so sad that I was so full. I sampled just a tiny bite.

I was so surprised when the chef offered to wrap the rest up for me to take home. He wrapped it up so nicely, it was like I was taking a gift home. I'm so glad that 1) we had a refrigerator in the hotel room and 2) I was able to eat more of the rice at the airport on my way back to Boston.
Yum!
Finally, for dessert, I had Hojicha (Roasted Green Tea) Ice Cream with a Rum-Raisin-Fig cake. The tea ice cream was the best part, full of that strong, roasted tea flavor. The cake was dense, cold, and only OK (reminded me of fruitcake a little).

*  *  *  *  *

General Notes
This place is really, really hard to find on foot. I took the subway to Akasaka (cute neighborhood, by the way) and then tried walking to the location, using my phone GPS as my navigation guide. Even though I was almost standing right on top of the restaurant, it still took me about 15 minutes of wandering before I could find how to get in. It turns out the entrance is in a back alley, down a dark, bamboo-lined path (see top picture). Perhaps if you take a cab it will drop you right in front!

Service here is excellent, and the staff took really good care of me. On my way out, they offered to take a picture of me at the door. One of the chefs also walked with me down the dark, wooded path until I got the the lit road just to make sure I was OK.

As for the food, it was good, but I'm not sure if I would come back. Sure, there were some dishes that I loved, such as the Matsutake Soup, Matsutake rice, and the gingko beans. However, there were many other dishes that I only thought were good, but not mind-blowing. I also thought the food portions were way too big, and that affected my enjoyment of the entire experience near the end.
Overall, however, it was a fascinating experience. I loved the focus on seasonal ingredients and the artistry of the food was really an integral part of the entire meal. I learned I love fall ingredients, especially Matsutake mushrooms and gingko beans.

This is only my first kaiseki experience, so jury's still out on what I think of the cuisine style as a whole. In general, their raw fish dishes aren't as good as those from the top sushi places. However, I do enjoy the interesting variety of cooking methods and flavors.

Can't wait to try more!