Komameya (“little bean shop” per Kyoto Foodie) specializes in their own house-made yuba. Like many restaurants in Japan, it is a chain, with three locations throughout Kyoto. Each location offers a la carte or a “kaiseki” (re: tasting) menu. This location (near Karasuma-dori) was casual but it had an under-stated modern elegance – clean geometric lines. The waitress spoke admirable English but your experience may vary. Lunch and dinner are available.

Komameya is by no means a high-end restaurant but, if one ordered carefully, it could induce an epiphany or two. There is something transcendental about a piece of fresh yuba that defies its simplicity. It is an ingredient that should be explored more in Western dishes and/or fusion cuisine, if for nothing else but for its sublime texture. Riffs on the texture were found throughout the meal – each dish highlighting a different aspect. In the “sashimi” course, it was packed tightly to give it a (ever so slight) rubbery quality, similar to the real fish beside it. Its stringy quality, similar to melted cheese, accentuated and amplified the actual cheese in the chicken parmesan course. Yuba donburi, the final course, had a Korean bibim-bop quality where the rice, egg, and yuba hung together in each bite. The dessert, a soy-based machta “pudding” (for lack of a better word), was stunning – its silky texture possibly the greatest of the evening (and one of the best of the trip!)

As good as some courses could be, some were just as bad. The frying was heavy-handed and, while the potential exists for a satisfying contrast, the breading dominated the mouthfeel (and you can see that Exile Kiss’s fried yuba looks much more accomplished.) The non-yuba ingredients were fairly average, even by American standards. The sashimi and duck could have been from anywhere. Because of this, one might have the best luck ordering a la carte, opting for more yuba-based dishes (for example, in the a la carte menu, the “sashimi” course did not include fish.)

Komameya is a little too careless at times to be considered an elite Kyoto restaurant but it is an enjoyable stop with eye-opening possibilities. The texture variations from one dish to the next should satisfy most curiosities. For chefs, the riffs on a single ingredient could provide imaginative spark and ideas. If you are a fan of yuba, or just want an “easy” night out, Komameya should not disappoint; otherwise, try ordering the “sashimi” and a few other dishes for lunch.

- chuck

Both Kasagi-Ya and Kagizen Yoshifusa were featured in Diane Durston’s Old Kyoto: The Updated Guide to Traditional Shops, Restaurants, and Inns. They were both identified as shops that preserve tradition while serving high-quality desserts. The book is a great introduction to Kyoto for any non-resident while still preserving the mystery of the city. In an effort to help sales of the book, and future editions, I will not print addresses in this post – the book is worth buying.

Kasagi-Ya

Amid the near-Disneyfied neighborhoods of East Kyoto (they are historically preserved but it’s a strange sight), Kasagi-Ya quietly sits at the base of the stairs to Sonnenzaka, with nary a hint as to what lies inside. It is a time machine with five small tables or so that have been around since 1914 – exuding warmth and hospitality – it’s easy to imagine pilgrims stopping in for a quick warm cup of tea. The modern-day traveler, generally safe from the elements, still needs a break from the hoards of tour groups and souvenir shops in the neighborhood.

The shaved ice with green tea syrup was a near-automatic decision due to the humidity of the late September afternoon. There was no magic imbued in this cup, no matter how authentic the intentions were, but it served its purpose – a cool treat.

The o-hagi (rice and azuki beans), on the other hand, were revelatory – made to order and served warm – their freshness trumped all of the o-hagi eaten to date on the trip.⁴ It is interesting how one with limited experience knows the difference between fresh and even a day or two old. They were on the sweeter side but the texture and its slight chewiness was compelling. Your visit to Kyoto will take you though this neighborhood – mark Kasagi-Ya as a necessary stop to experience Old Kyoto.

Kagizen Yoshifusa

Kagizen Yoshifusa was billed as one of the last remaining o-kashi-ya (Japanese sweet shop) in Kyoto that still produced their own sweets daily, instead of pre-boxed and wrapped. Changes have apparently been afoot. The shop was now bifurcated – a small counter of wagashi in front, amongst old cabinetry and ceramics, and an ultra-chic and modern cafe, reminiscent of any international hotel, in back. There was such a discrepancy between descriptions that I assumed this was a failed mission – directions being what they are (difficult at times) – for this was nothing traditional about the setting in back. But the door pictures matched up and, in Japan, that is often one’s best guide.⁵

The Kuzukiri came with two bowls – one with (fresh made) translucent arrowroot noodles sitting in ice water; the other “brown sweet syrup” (as the English menu called it.) It was the ultimate in minimalism and elegance; hitting a Zen-like high reminiscent of the best sushi of the trip. More amazing, the noodles had little taste but their texture was pitch perfect as they slid down your throat The brown sweet syrup had a complex taste redolent of maple syrup but it was less viscous, made with brown sugar. The subtlety of flavor, from so basic of ingredients, was astounding.

The “soft red-beans jelly” (verbatim from the menu) was molded in a bamboo; one unwrapped it, tapped it out, and sliced it with the pick provided. It could not reach the highs of the kuzukiri but its freshness stood out against the plethora of bean-based sweets eaten to date in Japan. The texture and flavor sung where other desserts were more muted.

While the setting was not the romanticized vision of a traditional tea house, the desserts were of a high caliber. The modern cafe in back, obviously a more recent addition, and costly as that, makes one worry a little less for quality desserts in Kyoto. There is obviously a market for higher quality sweets and Kagizen Yoshifusa is highly recommended for such desires.

- chuck

1 – See Kyoto Travel Guide: Japanese Confections

2 – Kyoto is very interesting when considered in the context of Baudrillard’s simulcra. The city has a number of neighborhoods that have been restored. The effect is surreal at best – the restoration is so successful that the districts could be mistaken for Disney-fied copies of the original. And then there are the merchants – most of whom are selling goods that were likely not made at their shop, or even in the city itself! The entire affair is mediated by an overly commercial, and blatant, tourist industry. It is not unlike going to Las Vegas to see Paris – but it *is* Kyoto – fascinating!

3 – I don’t intend for this to be a value judgement, although it may read that way. The foodie in me wants everything to be tasty first, with authenticity a secondary concern. The tourist in me wants authenticity. And the entrepreneur in me realizes that, without money, and often because of it, the shops and any notion of tradition would cease to exist anyways.

4 – Later that day, the mochi at Hyotei, a single piece served at the end of the meal, was just as amazing.

5 – Again, if you’re not familiar with kanji, there is nothing more useful for finding a Japanese restaurant than a picture of the door.

The location could be nowhere but Kyoto. Busloads of tourists, temples, hustle, and bustle surround the area but Hyotei is located on a quiet dark street. It has stood there for over three hundred years. Our servers for the evening stood outside waiting, beacons of gustatory delight, reinforcing the restaurant’s reputation for hospitality and welcoming. After entering, you are led down a stone pathway, ducking trees and bushes, amid a Japanese garden. A ninja could jump out at any given moment.⁵ The tatami room, your ultimate destination, sits on a small creek, where a panel can be opened to reveal the garden. (Exile Kiss’s Hyotei review has day-time photos of the same room and the tranquil setting outside.)

The service at Hyotei is antithetical to our Western norms. Both of our servers were dressed in kimonos and shuffled in restricted, but poetic, movements. When the (assistant, for lack of a better word) server brought in the first dish, it was placed on the floor in front of us. She was followed by the head server (again, for lack of a better word) who then led an extended kowtowing session. It was not entirely unexpected (since I read Exile Kiss’s review) but it still left one feeling honored and humbled.

The introductory plate of sea bream, soybeans, and ikura featured clean and crisp flavors. The sea bream was of very high quality, equivalent to the sashimi found at Sawa, but it did lack the pulses of flavor found at Ryu-gin later. The ikura was exceptionally clean tasting. Both provided a clarity that mimicked the cool fall evening.

The egg cake with fried tofu symbolized the Rabbit in the Moon – harvest season. This dish encapsulated the kaiseki aesthetic in most obvious terms – food symbolic of a season. The bowl was vibrant and tantalizing – the colors themselves almost plangent – a jolt to life near the beginning of the meal. The pictures do no justice. The cake was silky and quite smooth.

The third course featured egg, sushi, dust-covered fish, and matsutake. The egg, defying the aesthetic that no part should outshine another, was extraordinary. Its yolk was a much deeper orange than the picture suggests, just barely cooked inside, and richer than the best eggs at Mugartiz. It was a stunning piece of cooking, presumably without the help of modern day technology.

The fried hamo was somewhat greasy and over-battered to my liking. If you compare this course to the abalone I had at Koju, and yes, the Japanese frown on such comparisons, there’s a clear divide.

The steamed daikon with jelly was not made for me. I dislike the texture and taste of daikon, and the jelly covering was too mucilaginous for my preferences. This dish probably most exhibited the cultural divide between my tastes and traditional Japanese cooking.

The grilled ayu course would preserve the Buddhist notion that a meal should not be gluttonous. The fish was bursting with its roe, a fall treat, and perhaps another reference to the moon. The fish reflected shades of gold and brown brilliantly against the plate. It was a striking dish in terms of color and artistic composition.

The grape and fig, covered with jelly, fulfilled the to-the-day legend of a kaiseki meal. The peeled grapes were intensely sweet, bursting with an intensity that I’ve never tasted from such a large grape. No fan of figs, this one too was bursting with intense flavor and sweetness – excellent.

The sole, tiny mochi anchored the meal with one of its best bites. Hyotei offers a “sweets” service at the end of the meal for an additional cost and, based on the quality of this fresh piece of mochi, it was a mistake not ordering it in advance. A lot of mochi was consumed in Kyoto and, while many were quite good, this piece was clearly the benchmark.

Matcha always concludes the kaiseki meal.

Where I found Koju minimalist and somewhat obtuse, Hyotei was just foreign to my sensibilities. There were stand-out bites but I feel much of the experience was lost on me. I left feeling disappointed in my limited understanding of the affair – culture, language, and history. The Tokyo kaiseki meals, Koju and Ryu-gin (coming soon), were far more accessible while using higher ingredient quality. If nothing else, those meals provide an entry point to the more traditional restaurants of Kyoto.

This was an educational opportunity and I never expected to grasp all of it. The Exile Kiss meal, from spring, looks more satisfying in both execution and conception. And when compared to the meals at Yagenbori and Takasebune, Hyotei clearly possesses a majesty not found in those meals. I would repeat Hyotei after surveying other kaiseki restaurants and learning more about the form. If the restaurant is not accepted on its own terms, and boxed into Western traditions, it will leave one, ultimately, unsatisfied. Instead, I am left more and more curious.

- chuck

1 – Most kaiseki meals are served in tatami rooms that open up to private gardens. North of Kyoto in the village of Kibune, some restaurants have tables built over river streams. See Diane Durston’s Old Kyoto: A Guide to Traditional Shops, Restaurants, and Inns for Kibune recommendations.

2 – Jonathan Hayes has written a great, but by no means comprehensive, article to Exquisite Dining in Kyoto (which includes a section on Hyotei.)

3 – Modern interpretations of the classics, not molecular gastronomy techniques. I have since bought the beautiful Kikunoi cookbook and its pictures alone could tempt anyone to try a meal there. I have also found these reviews of Kikunoi:
http://imtokyo.wordpress.com/2008/12/07/kaiseki-restaurant-kikunoi/
http://mattandviv.blogspot.com/2008/07/day-30-dinner-at-kikunoi-saturday-july.html

4 – I have since found these other reviews for Hyotei – I would highly suggest reading them, in addition to my review, before making a decision on dining at Hyotei:
http://kyotorestaurants.blogspot.com/2008/03/hyotei.html
http://epicureandebauchery.blogspot.com/2005/05/hyotei-spirit-of-kaiseki-dining-part-i.html
http://epicureandebauchery.blogspot.com/2005/05/hyotei-spirit-of-kaiseki-dining-part.html
http://theunvanquished.blogspot.com/2005/11/hyotei.html

5 – My childhood consisted of a steady diet of The Hand, Wolverine, Storm Shadow, Snake Eyes, and too many hours playing Shinobi.

Sometimes, I am shocked by my naivety.

This meal was not as good as the previous day’s kaiseki meal at Takasebune. It wasn’t a bad meal, and it probably wasn’t over-priced at $100/pp, but the terrible sashimi course hung over me like a very dark cloud for the remainder of the meal.

Yagenbori is located in the geisha district on the east side of Kyoto. Young women do not scurry about but the dark streets have a sinister quality to them at night. There are few, if any, women walking around, save for the random tourist. Groups of men could be drunken marauders. The store-fronts/clubs are mostly anonymous, peppered with neon kanji at all levels, and the few English signs evoke a Sadeian spirit. Yagenbori sits in the midst of this impenetrable mystery.

The Beast Chucky 666 (my favorite – no matter what transpires inside!)

There’s an eight-person bar with four exposed rooms behind. Two chefs work at the long counter with a supplementary kitchen, and staff, in back. Our waitress spoke enough English to explain the dishes – she was very charming. Pictures can be found at this Flickr set three rows from the bottom (for I did not take any of the interior for some reason.)

Shirasu cracker, Egg with fish, Marinated eel, Shrimp sushi – Beginnings, nothing remarkable, but a wide variety of tastes and textures. It was clear that the dishes would be more in-line with the home cooking of Takasebune than the rigidity of Koju.

Matsutake broth with Hamo (Pike Conger Eel) and lime - The soup had a slight earthiness with hints of lime but it still lacked much dimension. Unfortunately, as if often the case, the eel was completely over-cooked by the time it was served.

Sashimi platter – Bonito & Snapper – A lesson in something I already knew – when bad raw fish is served, I get upset and the rest of the meal goes downhill. This was, even by American standards, fishy and poor. The searing of the bonito could not hide the taste and its color was anemic.

Hamo paste w/ citrus jelly – This was a valiant follow-up. The slightly acidic jelly proved a nice foil to the hearty, comforting paste. In a nod to fulfilling the owner’s concept, the wasabi came from a tube instead of being grated fresh. Nevertheless, this was my favorite dish of the night.

Skewered Ayu w/ roe – The fish were kept in a tank, plucked out, and skewered on demand. The chef made an incision on the stomach and the roe would immediately balloon out and slowly continue expanding over the next few minutes. The fish was tasty, thanks to its decent char, but the “meat” of the dish was roe – lots of it – its texture, once grilled, dry and crackly. The Ayu with roe is a late fall specialty of Kyoto, usually only available during a few weeks of the year.²

Tempura – Yuba, Sama tempura, Ginko nut – This was a clumsy dish where the coating completely overpowered the ingredients. It could be a style I am not familiar with, and thus can’t appreciate, but it just tasted like eating chips. To their credit, there was no grease.

Squid w/ Miso paste – The miso paste was applied a little too liberally for my tastes, as well as being a touch cloying, but this was a solid dish. The squid quality was by no means exemplary but it was a well conceived dish.

Rice, Shirasu, miso soup, pickles – The shirasu was a great (salty) addition for the rice – lots of umami. Pickles in Kyoto are an art form and, despite generally disliking pickles, I learned to devour them at the ends of my meals.

Apple pear & peeled grape – Fantastic fruit, the grape was something else, the only ingredients of the meal that truly shined.

This was only my 3rd major meal in Japan but, already, I could sense there were clear divisions between good, great, and excellent. While it would not be fair to judge this experience against Koju, considering it is a proper kaiseki meal, the food was just not as careful nor were the ingredients as pristine. It could be compared to Takasebune, but that meal just felt more honest and careful, a mom & pop fulfilling the promises of Kyoto’s food culture.

Yagenbori confirmed there would be misses in Japan, much like France and the US. Considering the number of possibilities in Kyoto, my recommendation would be to skip Yagenbori and shoot for something else, perhaps The Beast Chucky 666!

- chuck

1 – As luck would have it, I can not find the article that originally stated this. I picked Yagenbori from Diane Durston’s Old Kyoto, a book that, despite recommending this restaurant, I still whole-heartedly recommend for any travels to Kyoto.

2 – Per the beautiful Kikunoi cookbook by Yoshihiro Murata and Masashi Kuma.

The Entrance – the oar, on the very left, is the tell-tale sign that you’ve arrived.

Takasebune was billed as “affordable tempura”, located behind the Takasegawa canal. A quiet, dark alley splinters off and hosts old merchant houses, including Takasebune. One feels as if one has accidentally wandered into a forgotten street lost by city planners. But the future is only a step away in Kyoto. Directly behind and above it all is a giant department store, the hustle and bustle a scant minute away. It is possible to time travel in Kyoto, where a quick turn down an alley can lead to an escape from, or return to, the 21st century. The city has a charm, as well as a history, that is missing in Tokyo.

The Menu

I read about Takasebune in Diane Durston’s Old Kyoto. This book is highly recommended for any traveler to Kyoto, or anyone that needs extra inspiration to book a ticket to Japan. She tells the stories of the remaining shops and restaurants that are trying to preserve Kyoto’s heritage in the face of rampant consumerism. This book, and the merchants featured within, should be supported since they are a dying breed; as a result, I will not publish the address for Takasebune – buy the book.

Random shot of the inside – quite rustic, lots of wood details, very old, beautifully done

After reading Diane’s book, Takasebune seemed like it would be a nice introduction to Kyoto – a quiet, simpler meal where one could begin to appreciate what Kyoto had to offer. This was a true mom & pop shop – mom did the plating, pop did the cooking, and a waitress helped out w/ the tatami rooms in back. Language was a barrier but I found it easier to communicate with the Japanese than I do the French or Spanish. They have a few set menus; this was the kaiseki option at $70 US/pp. It is clearly not refined (although a lot of care went into the meal); instead, it is a homey introduction to the cuisine and people.

Appetizers – A trio of appetizers were served at the beginning: peppers with shirasu (dried baby fish), Ayu pre-fried and marinated in vinegar, and compressed roe with mayo. The textures of each dish were particularly satisfying.

Sashimi – While the husband cut the fish, the wife spent her time preparing and arranging the tiny flowers on the plate (whose beauty is not captured in this photo.) Care and attention to detail were present in a way that is unfathomable for an American meal at this price point, and highlights the differences of relationships to food. The fish was very good by American standards.

Steamed Hamo (Pike Conger Eel) – Served with plum sauce.

Grilled Ayu – Kaiseki meals are known to be seasonal, sometimes to the day and week. Ayu, a river-fish, is served during the fall. The fish was simply grilled, a nice char on its skin, and a touch of brightness from the yuzu- a simplicity that can make Italian cooking look busy.

Matsutake broth – Conger eel, shrimp, matsutakes, and lime inside.

Grilled Suziki – Takasebune serves fish for many different courses as a tribute to its location along the canal. The suziki, a sea bass, was cut into larger pieces, skin intact, including the head, and grilled with a soy and sugar sauce. The sauce was a touch cloying but it was finger-licking delicious; and it did cut the gelatinous bits well.

Tempura – Eggplant, Shrimp, & Pumpkin – Takesebune originally caught my eye because it was known as a tempura restaurant. I had high expectations for their frying capabilities but this dish was the weakest of the night. After the magical fried abalone at Koju, this just seemed clumsy and heavy-handed.

Miso soup – The requisite miso course, served with rice. Surprisingly, miso soups in Japan are much heartier (and spicier) than America; they hardy resemble their counterparts here. Strings of yuba were served inside to give it texture.

Simple Dessert – A fantastic orange and apple pear.

Toothpick holder – I became somewhat fascinated with these at each meal

It’s certainly not the best meal in Kyoto, nor does it pretend to be, but it’s a honest meal prepared by honest people. While I ate my meal, a local woman drank four 32oz beers to my one. Locals eat here for comfort and nourishment, not for ritualized kaiseki theater. Where Koju was austere, this meal had an accessibility that can help one begin to understand kaiseki and Japanese dining. You can not appreciate one without the other. Takasebune is a warm, friendly place to get your bearings straight, relax, and begin to understand the Kyoto way and its people; a stepping stone to the fancy stuff. No need for a reservation.

- chuck