Posts Tagged ‘restaurants’


The most memorable hospitality I’ve ever experienced while traveling, was not at the most refined Kyoto Ryokan nor discreet old world small hotels of Europe, although they were all unforgettable places with impeccable service and care, the most memorable hospitality I’ve ever experienced was in a village about an hour drive outside of Fes in Morocco.


Fes is an incredible ancient city. Once inside the city walls, it seems like you travel back in time several hundred years. But before walking into the city, every visitor is greeted by a swarm of kids who offer to be your guide. There is no way around it, these kids are clever, and most of them know just enough phrases in many different languages to grab your attention. It seems the only way to have them leave us alone was to hire one, so we did.


Our guide Mohamed said he was 15 years old but I think he was more like 11 and after about 15 minutes of walking trough the maze like streets with him, he was joined by another boy (I forgot his name) who said he was 18 years old but did not look a day older than 14. They were mostly interested in taking us to the shops so they could earn commissions from the shop owners. After a         couple of hours, we grew hungry, so I asked them to take us to a good place to eat, a place where a local might go to have a good relaxing lunch. They took us to what seemed like a hole in the wall, but turned out to be very spacious and beautiful once inside, then told us they would wait outside while we eat. I was not having that so I told them they must join us and if they did not, I would not eat.  Reluctantly, they came in to the restaurant with us. Once inside, a gentleman who appeared to be the proprietor of the restaurant received us but said something rather sternly to the kids. The kids then told me that they should wait outside, or if they are going to eat at all, they could not eat in the dining room. I then finally understood why our guides were so reluctant to come in and eat with us. So I told the proprietor that these young men were my guests, and they will sit with me to dine together. The lunch was very good, well prepared, and we all had a good time, but what was most remarkable was in that moment, everything changed, our guides became our friends and we became their guests to the city. In the afternoon, they took us to see many interesting places, now avoiding the shops. They now wanted us to see their Fes. They even took us through some gaps and holes (a short cut) within the walls. They made us feel like kids again in this ancient city.


At the end of the day, I asked them what we were doing tomorrow? They looked puzzled but responded we could do whatever we wanted. So I asked them to take me to their village. I had learned during lunch that they were Berber and their village was about a 2-hour drive from Fes. “ Do you really want to see our village? They asked me, responding that no one had asked them that before.” “Yes, I would love to “I replied.


The next morning we drove out to the countryside. After about an hour I started seeing fields with peculiar dome like structures of about 2 feet high. The kids told us that they were bread ovens and since the farmers only have time to bake once a day, they have more than one oven so they can bake enough bread for the whole family. “Would you like to see one?” they asked me. “Sure” I said. “OK, then lets go to that house” as they pointed to a small house in the distance “That small one? I asked. Do you know them?” “No, but its ok, we will have some tea there.” “What?!?!?”   A little hesitant I did what I was told and pulled onto the dirt road and headed to the tiny house.


We were total strangers and we showed up at this house un-announced and empty-handed. At the door, we were greeted by a girl of about 8 years old who was caring for her little brother (5YO) and little sister (2YO) while her parents where out working the fields. The tiny house was humble and had a warm feel to it. It was one room home and had hardened dirt like clay floors with one very large piece of carpet on it. The girl, or I should say our hostess asked us to go and wait for her under the tree shade outside because it was getting very hot inside the house, and I will never forget what happened after that.


Our hostess dragged and carried out the only carpet in her house for us so we could sit under the tree in comfort. Of course I tried to help as the carpet was probably three times her weight, but she would have none of that. We were her guests and we were to sit and relax. She then brought us fresh brewed mint tea, home made bread, olives, home churned butter, home made yogurt, and honey. She basically brought out everything she had in her house for us to enjoy in comfort under this beautiful tree.


The food was amazing, simple, rich flavors of nature. But what made the experience so memorable was the hospitality. She was responsible for her guests’ comfort and nourishment while we were under her care, and she did everything she could to make sure that this was done. I was moved, beyond moved. I had done nothing to deserve such hospitality and we were total strangers to her. I asked my guides what I could do to repay her. The boys told me not worry, that this was their local custom, but I had to do something in return. I went to look for a store and bought a hand full of loose candies and brought it back to her. The look on her face when I gave her the candies was that of surprise, joy, and slight embarrassment.


What I took away from her and this experience was learning the most important thing about hospitality. That true hospitality is to touch the guest’s heart, and the only thing that can touch a person’s heart is the heart of another.



By Daisuke Utagawa

Making decent ramen is not an easy task. But making good ramen is a task that can drive even well trained cooks crazy. Good ramen must be – first and foremost – well balanced. There are four major elements that make up a bowl of ramen. Balancing those elements is the most difficult part of making that really satisfying, “crave to have it again 3 days later” ramen. Here is a brief explanation of those 4 elements.

Soup stock – In Japan, there are largely two types of stocks made for ramen, Chintan stock (clear soup), and Paitan stock (emulsified turbid stock).

Chintan stock is typically made with chicken, pork bone, seaweed, dried fish, vegetables, and other house secret ingredients. It needs about 8 hours cooking time on top of overnight soaking time.

Paitan stock is mainly made with pork bones, pork fat and pork feet, (some make it with chicken bones) that are boiled for a long time to the point that stock is emulsified and turns milky color. This also takes long time to make.

Noodles – Different style of ramen calls for different type of noodles.

Sapporo ramen are typically made with thick curly noodles that are aged.

Tokyo style ramen are made with curly, medium thick, aged noodles. The noodles are curly so that they will carry the soup when it’s slurped.

Tonkotsu (paitan stock) are commonly made with thin strait non-aged noodles to go with the rich thick soup.

The type of flour, kansui (alkaline salt which gives noodles that particular springiness), and precise mixture of other ingredients as well as kneading time, pressure etc. are also house secret.

Tare – Tare determines the main flavor of the soup. Shio (salt based), Shoyu (Soy sauce based) and Miso are the top three popular flavors in Japan. Each Tare is made according to house recipe; most tare are aged to allow for each ingredient to blend well.

Spices, toppings, and flavored oil – Typical ramen toppings are Chashu (roast pork), Memma (simmered bamboo), Ajitamago (marinated boiled egg), Nori, fresh wok fried beansprouts.

Commonly used spices are ginger, garlic, ground white pepper, some even use a touch of dried citrus skin as kakushiaji (hidden flavor).

For flavor oil, scallions, ginger and garlic are slow cooked in oil to extract the flavors.

So, as one can see, it takes time and a lot of effort to make the above four elements, but that’s not even half of the story. The key lies in making the four elements come together seamlessly in a bowl so the complete ramen becomes “one”, and the finished product must be more than the sum of its parts. Just imagine how many variances there can be just for the stock, change one little thing in the makeup of four elements and it can throw the whole thing off balance!

Also ramen must be made to order, which means the stock, the tare, the boiled to order noodles and toppings and spices must come together right before serving. This juxtaposition of fresh and aged is what makes ramen so addictive.

Ramen is quick order, quick eating food. Let it sit in front of you while talking to your dinning companion? NO! The noodles will get soggy and loose that particular combination of springiness and elasticity as well as flavor it took so long for the cooks to perfect.

How to eat Ramen? As quickly as possible! Here are some tips on getting the best out of your ramen.

1) When the ramen arrives, start eating it straightaway, do not wait for your companion’s ramen to arrive, ramen never waits for people, people wait for ramen.

2) First, take a small sip of the broth directly from the edge of the bowl by lifting the bowl with both hands to your lips. This is by far the preferable option but you can use the spoon if you like. You want to do this to taste the broth before it’s mixed with other ingredients.

3) Then take the roast pork and push it down in to the soup to let it warm up so the fatty part becomes tender.

4) Go directly to noodles, pull out few strands of noodles, put them down as to fold them in half, pick up the folded noodles, – this way the noodles are shorter and much easier to handle- look down towards the bowl (very important) and slurp up the noodles. Be sure to let the air in together with the noodles when you slurp. This aerating helps you to enjoy full flavor of the broth, similar to tasting wines. Do not be embarrassed by the slurping sound. This is the proper way to eat ramen.

5) Repeat step 3 with occasional bites of toppings in between, until all the noodles are gone.

6) Now you can relax and enjoy the rest of the soup at your own pace.

7) Done correctly, it should not take more than 10 minutes to finish a bowl of ramen.

8) Enjoy that glorious afterglow of having had a good bowl of ramen.


Whenever I travel back to my home city Tokyo, there are few eateries I must go back to. Many of them are in the area called Shitamachi. The term shitamachi was originally used in Edo period (17th to 19th century) to describe urban areas that lay in lowland, closer to the river and sea, or outside of the central district of Shogun’s rule. But today it generally stands for a more humble part of Tokyo that still keeps the old world charm.

What makes shitamachi special is the people who live there. They are often blunt, in a hurry, and easily agitated, but also warm and have big hearts. At least that’s how they are characterized in many tales of shitamachi.

Masaru is an eatery that serves only one main dish, Tendon. Tendon simply put is a Tempura served over a large bowl of rice with some sweet and savory sauce. This typical shitamachi dish may sound simple but what goes in to making perfect tendon is nothing simple.

First the rice has to be of high quality, carefully washed and perfectly cooked. The ingredients for the tempura have to be of the top quality. Chef Takasaki goes to Tsukiji market every morning to pick the prawns he serves that day. He only uses domestic Kuruma-ebi, and if he does not find prawns to his liking, he will not open his restaurant that day.

Then comes the frying technique. Tempura for tendon is made differently to normal tempura. Because tempura has to be dipped in the sauce before being laid on the bed of rice, it needs to be a bit crispier as not to get soggy, but never too crunchy. Making crispy tempura without overcooking the ingredients is not an easy thing to do. Precise temperature of oil, the right timing, and the right type of oil is required on top of the chef’s skills to understand and adjust the cooking to each ingredient’s condition and character. In short, there is never a precise recipe one can follow. Of course there are general guidelines but micro adjustments must be made all the time. All simple prepared food such as sushi, sashimi or tempura show the flaw (or inability to truly understand the ingredients) of the maker, but at the same time, if a master made it, the same dish can be heavenly.

Chef Takasaki is a master of tendon. He is also quite a character. At his shop, which seats about 8 at the table and 5 at the counter, he seems very quiet. Through a small gap between the counter and the kitchen, one can catch a glimpse of him just doing his thing. No one really talks loud, they just wait for the tendon to arrive mostly in silence. Perhaps its because they waited in line for over 40 minutes, or perhaps the smell of tempura in the store made them very hungry.  Normally the chef does not speak either, but once you get him to talk, he won’t stop! Of course, me being an insensitive Japanese fellow, and a greedy eater, I always talk to cooks who make amazing food.

The only thing about Masaru is it is very difficult to find,  off of one of the most crowded streets of Asakusa, it’s as if the owner deliberately hid the restaurant from the public. But if you are in Asakusa, and want to try the best tendon, and don’t mind the wait, do try it once.

Another one of my “can’t miss when I’m back in Tokyo” is an eel specialty restaurant called Irokawa. I’ve had better eel elsewhere in Japan but I’ve never met a character such as the owner of this eel joint anywhere in the world.

Irokawa opened its doors in 1861 (When Abe Lincoln was the president of USA) and the current chef is the 6th generation owner chef of Irokawa. He is a pure old school edokko, a stereotypical character of shitamachi. He talks like one and acts like one. Rough but has a heart of gold. The restaurant has two 4 tops and 6 seats at the counter. Behind the counter stands the chef (often with cigarettes hanging from his lips) tending to his compact charcoal grill. He also goes to the Tsukiji market (on his bicycle) to pick his eel. His tare (sauce for eel) has been the same batch for over 40 years, accumulating the eel flavor every time the grilled eels are dipped before serving. They just keep adding the new sauce to the old one, never a new batch.

But the real reason I go to this place is to see the chef and to talk to him.

A typical conversation one might have with him would go something like this:

Customer upon sitting down: I’d like a beer please.

Chef: Asahi Dry.

Customer: Only Asahi Dry?

Chef: Yah, don’t like it? Don’t get it.

Customer: Oh sure, I’d love some please, and a skewer of kimoyaki and while I wait for a friend.

Chef: Just one skewer? Get two, I don’t like to do things over again, your friend would order one anyway.

Customer: Urr, ok then two please and maybe some shirayaki.

Chef: Got it, and you’re gonna have unadon for main.

Customer: Urrr I haven’t decided on the main…

Chef: That’s why I’m telling you. You’re gonna have unadon!

Customer: Ye, yes please.

After finishing the meal

Customer: Thank you, that was really good.

Chef: Of course it was good; do you think I serve bad food? If you are around this area come show your face again!

A first time customer will be shocked but once you become a regular, he is really fun to talk to. Besides, no one speaks the old Tokyo dialect anymore. The man should be a living treasure.

Once I brought a very good friend Andy Blue a wine and food writer from LA to Irokawa. Andy was quick to catch on to the vibe of the chef even though he did not speak Japanese. Andy made us laugh by saying “So he is a 6th generation eel chef? I guess when he was young; his father told him -pointing to the tiny grill – “son, one day this will all be yours!” I did not translate this to the chef…..


1-32-2 Asakusa Taito-ku Tokyo

Phone +81-3-3841-8356


2-6-11 Kaminarimon Taito-ku Tokyo

Phone +81-3-3844-1187

By Daisuke Utagawa

I am often asked to name my top favorite restaurants/eateries in the world. Or, at least I think about what the top 5 would be time to time. Broken Tooth Shing in Hong Kong has always been my favorite top 5 even though last time I dined there was 2005, and I’ve had plenty of amazing meals elsewhere since then.

Broken Tooth is not a real restaurant, nor is it the real name of the chef. The Chef’s name is Lee Shing, and “broken tooth” is his nickname since he has one of his front teeth broken. It’s not a real restaurant because the establishment is not licensed and is in their small apartment in down town HK. What it is though is an eatery that can take diners through an amazing journey and even back in time –so to speak.

Broken Tooth only takes one group a night. Up to 18 guests. It will cost about $2500 for the 18 people not including the drinks. (Its BYOB) The place is booked months in advance and they wont take any reservations if you were not recommended by someone they trust. The guests sit in Chef Shing’s small living/dining/bedroom of his one room apartment. Not much of décor or comfort; big round foldable table and some milk crates with cushions to sit on. (Although the second time I visited, they had invested in some foldable chairs)

But none of these things matter because of the sublime food he makes and all doubt will be blown away at once when you walk in to the kitchen. The first time I went to the kitchen, I saw this old man crouching on the floor (wooden slats over concrete) cleaning fish. He was Chef Shing. I looked around and noticed that there was not a single gas or electric cooker, instead, there were several coal cookers of various size! I asked about this and the Chef told me that he doesn’t know how to cook with gas and the coal fire gives his food the right heat, and for him, its much easier to control the heat with coal fire. The only difficulty for him is that no one makes the coal range anymore so he has to special order them for his woks of various sizes.

Let me give you some background on Chef Shing. He was 86 years old last time I dined there in 2005. Chef Shing studied under a private chef of a well-known Chinese opera star. This was about 100 Years ago, and back then, all good chefs worked for someone rich and famous privately. This still holds true to some extent in today’s HK, as eating is one of the most important aspects of life in HK and people believe through eating well, one can live longer or even have a great fortune. The teacher of Chef Shing was famous for his skills. For instance he was the chef who invented snake soup with dried citrus skin, now a classic dish. Having such a chef as your own private chef was also a status symbol in those days.

Chef Shing learned all the techniques and secrets from his teacher. He also kept ingredients that is no longer available today such as dried giant grouper skin (I was told this type of fish is not found anymore in the area.) or dried scallops and dried fish maw from the time the sea was not polluted.

If you are lucky enough to get a table at Broken Tooth, they will ask you for your budget and you work out the menu outline with them in advance. Of course you can ask for some surprise dishes, but for me every dish was a surprise even if I thought I knew the dish very well.

My first visit, the meal started with:

A big plate (its all family style here) of something that looked like wokked (Stir Fried if you like) thick cellophane noodles with finely julienned celery. But it turned out these bean sprout sized noodles were actually sharks fin! I’ve never even seen sharks fin that fat!

And it followed with:

A dish of brazed dried abalone and sea cucumber with Shitake. So delicately flavored , the texture and the taste of those chunks of giant abalone as I sink my teeth in to it was something I can still recall today.

And then:

The famous snake soup. Chef Shing’s son who was serving told us that dried citrus skin which flavored the soup was from 30 years ago.

After that it was:

Steamed whole grouper together with some braised fish maw (also very old). The combination of fish maw and the fresh steamed fish was so complementary to each other that one enhanced the flavor of the other.

And still going with:

Turtle stew. A delicate collagen rich dish. Flavored with dried grouper skin.

And of course:

Couple of vegetable dishes, such as braised yellow nappa cabbage with dried scallops, and stir fried fresh greens.

Not to forget:

The most deluxe fried rice with sausages, and various seafood,  dried or otherwise.

And we finished with:

Sweet Red Bean Soup and some exotic fruits.

While I was eating, I had a sense that I was tasting history and a culmination of ages of great Cantonese cooking culture. Perhaps a sense that maybe Chef Shing is the last of the Mohicans so to speak. I’ve asked as delicately as I can if there was anyone who can carry forward his skills. His son said he learned everything from his father. I genuinely hope he did…