There are many reasons to love Tokyo.1 Sadly, most are below the scope of this blog. I was lucky enough to visit Japan this summer, and sample what was referred to as an “obscene” lineup of five consecutive omakase experiences in Tokyo. I would describe it as the best culinary experience of my life to date. My one regret (other than weight gain, which can theoretically always be undone) is not getting to try more of the wide variety of Japanese cuisine, because we focused so aggressively on high-end sushi. But in any case, please see the below for my review of Tokyo’s sushi scene. I do my best to provide non-sushi recommendations, but my frame of reference is much smaller.
A couple disclaimers before we start. I’m American, and so have a western palate, and speak very little Japanese. There is also a massive range of mid-level sushi places that I basically didn’t engage with at all on this trip. All the places listed are not bookable by a (non-Japanese) individual, the easiest thing to do is ask a hotel concierge to book it for you. I don’t take or post pictures of food, ever, so if you want that you should just google the restaurant. I also won’t write a full review of every piece of every restaurant, because that would make this post thousands of words; I’ll just hit you with the highlights and overall sense of each place. To find restaurants, I leaned on 1) Tabelog, the Japanese version of Yelp, and 2) Michelin rankings/word of mouth. I’ve reviewed each place chronologically.
Omakase
Hakata Matsumoto Yaesu
A sushi counter with maybe twelve seats in Nihonbashi. This was a late Tabelog find, which rates it as a 3.4/5. This is oddly a very high rating for Tabelog. Unlike western reviewers, Japanese people don’t just throw out five star ratings to any place they had a decent meal. This makes Tabelog a lot better than TripAdvisor or Yelp, which ultimately end up as rankings of which restaurant can attract more slack-jawed idiots who will give just about anywhere 5 stars. We have much to learn from the Japanese.
Hakata Matsumoto is a relatively new restaurant, splitting off from an Akasaka location. There are about 12 seats at the sushi counter, surrounded by private rooms. This is a fairly typical setup for Tokyo omakase. The chef spoke roughly zero English, but was exceedingly accommodating and polite, and we were able to figure out what every piece of sushi actually was. We were the only non-Japanese people in the restaurant, with multiple couples celebrating birthdays there. This was also our first of five omakase, so we were newly enamored with what is objectively a much higher quality of fish than exists in London.2 For roughly 18 courses, we paid 18,000 Yen, or about $130. I thought the chutoro (basic, I know) from Aomori, the bonito, and the uni were all phenomenal, by which I mean they were better than the high-end New York places (think Nakazawa). There was a seared sardine that I was prepared to dislike, but had a delicious aburi flavor to it that made it one of the highlights. Especially for the price point (well below Nakazawa these days), I was almost uniformly pleased with the quality of nigiri.
The problem is, Tokyo omakase tends to be a little different from New York omakase. In New York, you usually get 20-ish pieces of nigiri, with maybe one or two things that aren’t literally nigiri but are close to it. In Tokyo, there are more prominently featured “snacks”, which range from decent to horrific. This is not a criticism of the restaurant per se, because it’s not like they made a bunch of pickled bone-in sardines, or a raw mussel in the shell, or a gelatinous blob called “simmering” poorly. I would just describe those things as SNL: “shit nobody likes”. Of the five places we went to, Matsumoto was the most egregious purveyor of SNL, highlighted by a five-panel snack dish of things I struggle to think anyone really likes. Maybe Japanese/Asian palates do, but I honestly have my doubts about even that; it feels more like a traditional holdover to me. In any case, we loved the tamago and scallop, but there were probably seven distinct things I would term SNL. So while I did enjoy my experience, and I think the fish is very high quality with a lot of attention to detail in each piece, I wouldn’t return to Matsumoto were I to revisit Tokyo.
Sushi Noboru
This is a 3.7/5 on Tabelog, which is pretty high. We got this at the last minute, so my expectations were low. It’s located in the ritzy Ginza district, which I think can be fairly called the center of Tokyo sushi (there are 600 sushi bars in Ginza alone). The chef was young, and spoke the most English of anywhere we went, but again we were the lone non-Japanese people in the restaurant. The price point was slightly higher that Matsumoto, but the increase in quality was striking.
Having eaten at five of Tokyo’s best omakase restaurants, this was the only one I would happily go back to next time I visit the city. There was zero SNL. Even the final miso soup didn’t have clams in it; I wouldn’t quite call the clam soup, which is standard pre-tamago fare at these restaurants, SNL, but I personally prefer the clamless version after a massive 21 course meal. The tamago was perfect. The scallop was perfect. There was a Japanese salmon piece, which is not typically found in Japanese omakase, supposedly because it’s not flavorful enough, but it was mind-blowing, the best salmon nigiri I’ve ever tasted by far. The akami was the best akami we had on the trip. I typically dislike squid nigiri, but it was fantastic at Noboru, the thinnest and most tender I’ve ever enjoyed. The uni had a deliciously subtle flavor. Even the snacks were actually delicious—simple cooked fish, chawanmushi (which I am not a big fan of normally, but was delicious). The only criticism of this place I can think of, was the chutoro was a bit below the Michelin starred places we visited later in the trip, but that’s to be expected, because of the auction process that determines the quality of tuna; bluefin tuna gets better as prices get more egregious. But the chutoro and otoro were both fantastic, and to qualify this as anything less than a rave review would be wrongheaded. I cannot recommend this place enough, especially if (like me) you have a western palate and want all the craftsmanship, flavor and subtlety of masterful omakase without the drawbacks of SNL.
Jiro Sukiyabashi
I added this to my list of reservation requests prepared to be told no. Jiro, and indeed arguably omakase itself, was made famous by the Netflix documentary Jiro Dreams of Sushi. President Obama ate there on his trip to Japan, which further catapulted it to pure stardom. To have the chance to go seemed worth doing just for the story, if nothing else. Further, Tabelog rated it as 4/5 stars, which made me feel better about the risk of being tourist trapped. It lost its Michelin stars recently, but allegedly because it’s too hard to get into. We went for lunch (21 courses).
I would say Jiro was the singular place on this list that I would strongly recommend avoiding, and by far the worst of the five experiences.
As soon as we walked in, there were red flags. Of eight seats, every single one was taken by a non-Japanese tourist. The eye-watering cost (40,000 yen or about $300) was something I was prepared for—it’s the most famous sushi bar in the world—but the whole thing has a commercial feel that is the antithesis of what omakase is meant to be. When you sit down with a master sushi chef, the meal should be a piece of art, marked by extremely high attention to detail and an attempt at perfection in every piece. Jiro had none of that.
From the first piece of hirame, I had doubts. The rice tasted overly vinegared, by far the most sour taste of the places we went. People who have seen the documentary will know the process Jiro uses make rice is (or at least was) extremely involved, and so I was starting to question my own ability to evaluate sushi at all. Other than the tamago/melon, there was nothing that wasn’t nigiri, which would’ve been fine with me. But it was served extremely fast, to the point where the chef was putting pieces on your plate while you were chewing the prior piece. I am a habitually fast eater, but it was way too fast even if this were a normal meal, let alone what is meant as an artistic cultural experience to be savored. The whole meal was done in under an hour, presumably to get in more lunch services. Beyond the rice, which was too sour, individual pieces tasted off. The uni was very strong, nothing like what it should taste like. The anago was doused in eel sauce in excess, stifling the flavor. The boiled shrimp was good (Jiro senior invented that piece which is now a staple in many Tokyo high end sushi bars), and the chutoro was excellent; again, money buys chutoro, so this is unsurprising. But the otoro was weirdly smoked. On otoro, my understanding is there are two schools of how it should taste. Some let it stand on its own, completely raw with minimal accoutrement. This is my preference personally. Others gently sear it to bring out the buttery aburi flavor, which can be delicious if done well, even if its not my personal preference. Jiro’s tasted bizarrely smokey, which I’d never experienced before, and had the effect of obfuscating the quality of the toro without adding anything to the taste: like a ball right down the middle of the seven ten splits between the two established methods.
At this point, I should mention that the sushi chef is not the Jiro Ono you may have seen depicted in the documentary. This is because, while you’re told he “may or may not” be there for your meal, he’s in his late nineties, so of course he isn’t going to. Instead, his son Yoshikazu Ono has taken over. The whole thing feels like he is trading on his dad’s celebrity. He signs your menu and offers to take a picture with you, which is weird because he’s not actually a celebrity, just the son of one.
The whole thing reminded me of an experience I had growing up as a lifelong Illinois college basketball fan. For the uninitiated, the Illini have brought their fans relentless disappointment ever since 2005, which led to what the kids call “cope” on fan boards for the last 15 years. In 2009, Illinois gave a walk-on named Jeff Jordan a full athletic scholarship. This was seen as some by sure advantage to come, because Jeff’s dad happens to be Michael Jordan. The more levelheaded fans, like myself, were very sure this would change nothing for the Illini, because the kid wasn’t even a scholarship level basketball player. Fan board copium notwithstanding, Jeff Jordan made little to no contribution to the team and we would continue sucking for another ten years. In some walks of life—for example, amassing personal wealth—it matters who your father is. But in basketball, and culinary arts, it matters literally not at all, because all that’s important is the quality of what you produce. I don’t care if Yoshikazu’s dad was in a documentary. I care about the product, and the product he puts out is not in the same universe as what other Tokyo sushi masters are providing, let alone living up to the legend of his father.
Sushi Kuwano
I expected the last two restaurants in my list to be the best, because they are the most famous, and because they were Michelin-starred and expensive (about 35,000 yen). Sushi Kuwano is a very small Ginza-based setting with nine seats at the hinoki counter. There was one other tourist couple, and one Japanese banker taking the president of an American brand out to dinner for client entertainment. Tatsuya Kuwano’s wife is the only employee, whose family is a Toyosu market (successor to the famous Tsukiji fish market) fish vendor.
Kuwano was exceedingly kind and fun to talk to, despite a limited grasp of English (he’s been taking lessons for a couple years). The atmosphere avoided stuffiness despite the extremely high quality that was being served. The meal started with a small cup of edamame beans, which is normally something found predominantly at western sushi restaurants. This may sound silly, but they were remarkably flavorful, harvested locally and in season (we went in the summer). This was my favorite chutoro of the five, and maybe the best piece of nigiri I’ve ever tasted. Akami from Shiogama was outstanding. His otoro is very gently seared, which normally isn’t my preference, but this was probably the best I’ve seen it done—seared just barely without compromising too much on the subtlety of the flavor. There was some SNL—grilled bone-in pike conger, of which I’m not a fan, as well as a few vegetable based dishes that I could’ve missed. The tamago was also my favorite of the trip. On a pure fish basis, as well as the very positive attitude of the chef, I’d say Kuwano was my favorite spot of the trip; if you include everything (SNL), I’d still net net prefer to go to Noboru. But I’d happily recommend Kuwano as an unforgettable, very high-end experience.
Sushi Ryujiro
The fifth and final omakase we had in Tokyo was at the Michelin darling Ryujiro in Aoyama (no relation to the Jiro family). Tabelog gives it a 4.3/5, one of the highest rated restaurants in the area. I feel almost unqualified to give this review at all, because when I went we were ushered into a second, smaller room and served by someone who was not Ryujiro Nakamura, but rather his second in command. My impression is that the main room (12 ish people) was completely booked by one large event, and the second room (6 seats) was all that was available. This is fine, but it would’ve been nice to know beforehand. The younger man who served us spoke essentially zero English, and neither did anyone else in the restaurant. Ryujiro prides itself on its toro, which was fantastic—the first piece is a five-day aged chutoro—but ultimately the ratio of SNL was too high to recommend this to westernized palates like my own.
Non-Omakase Food
One downside of the omakase swarm was marginally fewer opportunities to try the rest of the extremely broad range of Japanese food. Nevertheless, we did our best. We broke up our Tokyo omakase experience with yaki niku (Japanese version of Korean barbecue) at Roketsu, where we were able to try Kobe and Matsusaka beef. The food was fantastic, though I will note that we both felt somewhat ill the following morning; most American stomachs aren’t used to digesting so much seared beef. We tried two tonkatsu ramen places, Ichiran and Yamachan. Both were fantastic, and absurdly cheap (less than $10 per person). Yamachan was at the recommendation of chef Kuwano; I think the quality of pork was higher at Yamachan, but you have to be specific about which vegetables you want in your ramen to avoid a bowl of just noodles, pork, and spring onions. Tsukiji Fish Market, while very touristy and no longer even the “real” fish market, is a lot of fun. Go in the morning and enjoy a container of deliciously fresh toro sashimi, bowls of eel over rice, and tamago on a stick.
Finally, there are a lot of fantastic small sushi-ya establishments that are worth going; we semi-randomly tried two, and both were very enjoyable and cheap, even if the quality of the fish is of course much lower than the higher end places we visited.
The Halden City Index ranks Tokyo as the world’s best city: