In the Hands of the Chef

By John Grossmann, Photography by Rebecca McAlpin

A true Japanese dining and cultural experience—minus the jet lag

Perhaps like me, you’ve long since forgotten when you initially mustered the courage to sidle up to a sushi bar and sample raw fish for the first time. Now, countless spicy tuna and California rolls later, a good many purchased in supermarkets and airport terminal food courts, I’ve decided to delve a bit deeper into Japanese cuisine and culture than putting chopsticks to seaweed-wrapped rolls of rice and fish. (California rolls, by the way, are the Japanese-American equivalent of chicken and veal Parmesan—also born in the USA.)

Taking a second leap of faith, I’ve grabbed one of nine seats at the counter of a small and intimate restaurant in Manhattan called Sugiyama. I’ve ordered a Kirin beer and the eight-course kaiseki (“KYE-sek-ee”) dinner. Short of a transpacific flight, this elaborate, multi-course meal offers an easy way to learn a bit about the history and food of the Land of the Rising Sun. Consider it Japan without the jet lag.

I know very little about what I’ll be eating tonight, because the venerable tradition of kaiseki is in the spirit of omakase—pronounced “o-ma-KA-say” (see sidebar at left). Simply stated, I’ve put myself in the hands of chef Nao Sugiyama, who’s been in America 20 years, the last 11 employing a sharp knife and a keen command of seasonal Japanese delicacies in his tiny open kitchen behind the counter at his aforementioned restaurant on West 55th Street.

In recent years, many of the world’s top chefs have showcased their culinary skills and burnished their reputations by offering multi-course dining extravaganzas. In Kyoto, Japan, which is known for its kaiseki restaurants, meals can run to 12 courses, feature as many as five-dozen seasonal ingredients, and easily top $150—though that’s a bargain compared with chef’s tasting meals at some five-star American restaurants.

The high cost can be attributed to several factors including the special nature of many of the ingredients, the skilled labor, the often collector-quality of the plates and bowls, and the duration of the meal—typically upward of two hours—which precludes multiple table turns.

Here in the United States, many top-tier Japanese restaurants also offer kaiseki dinners that will push your bill into triple digits. Thankfully, these days, wonderful multi-course meals can be had for far less (see listing on opposite page). One way to experience new Japanese delicacies, if not in a formal kaiseki procession of dishes, is to bow to the chef, saying, “Omakase shimasu”—or, “I’m going to leave it up to you. You decide.” Just be sure to communicate any food allergies, dislikes and guidelines on the desired number of courses.

At Sugiyama, I bypassed the three-course dinner ($32) and the five-course offering ($58) for the eight-course modern kaiseki dinner ($75). Chef Nao’s English remains a bit of a work in progress, but there’s no mistaking what he says when he sets before me my first dish, which the menu identifies as Sakizuke: Seasonal Appetizer. “Monkfish liver.”

My dining adventure begins.

Each kaiseki course has a name, which indicates what’s to be served, and specific ingredients will vary night-to-night depending on seasonal availability. Sakizuke means “presented first.” It is traditionally a cold item, such as the small cube of pâté-like monkfish liver and ponzu sauce I’m presented in a square bowl with a small wooden spoon. My notes say “mild/delicate, refreshing.”

Kaiseki meals unfold according to traditions and customs, such as alternating cold and hot courses, and conclude with a savory trio of rice, soup and pickled vegetables. So-called modern kaiseki dinners take some liberties with tradition, such as adding an extra sweet course at the end. In keeping with the overall lightness of the meal, expect a creative use of fresh fruit.

The second course (like the one pictured above) comes displayed in a black bowl with a tall curved handle—and I can see why some have called kaiseki edible art. The garden-like array includes several edamame pods; a single cooked shrimp; a small tuna and tofu cake; a whitefish cake; a gelatinous cube made from and encasing a tiny mountain peach called the yamamomo; a little cup containing a mixture of seaweed, ginger and vinegar; and a cooked baby crab about half the size of my thumb.

“Do I eat these in any special order?” I ask.

“No. No. You choose,” says Chef Nao. He answers my second question (“Do I eat the entire crab?”) with a big smile. The unusual crab, the mountain peach and many other ingredients, such as a baby trout no bigger than a Popsicle stick, are flown in from his native land Tuesday through Friday. Yes, the crab is crunchy—nicely so—and very sweet.

Course three, tsukuri (“creative work”), brings the traditional sashimi, which can refer to uncooked fresh vegetables and fruit as well as fish, and means “fresh slice.” Tonight, my sashimi bowl brims with glistening slices of octopus, tuna, snapper, yellowtail, amberjack and uni—a sea urchin. Some of the enjoyment comes from watching this chef expertly cut and arrange the slices and then garnish them with gold leaf and curls of daikon (a Japanese radish). But the real pleasure is, of course, in the eating.

Shame on me for robotically ordering sushi when I dine out and never sashimi, which offers these prized denizens of the sea in their most pristine form. Every bite is wonderful—even the uni, a sushi-bar staple I thought I’d sworn off as a taste I didn’t like.

And still the courses keep coming: a hot soup with a floating fishcake that’s garnished with wild chervil and water shields (rare, tiny green coral-shaped branches). Then a DIY surf or turf course. A flat stone a bit larger than a hockey puck is set before me, glowing red. Opting for seafood instead of sliced Kobe beef, and putting my chopstick skills to a new test, I cook shrimp, octopus, tuna and squid in seconds.

By now, Chef Nao and I are communicating with points and nods and translations from his English-speaking staff. He recommends drinking some sake to help cleanse my palate between different bites. Thereafter, my note-taking suffers. But not my passport-free trip to Japan, which continues on to a course of rice, miso soup and Japanese pickles. Finally, a wonderful sweet ending: a cool grapefruit dessert incorporating a chardonnay gelatin and doused with a whiskey cream sauce.

“I’d come just for that,” I say to my waiter.

“A lot of people say that,” he replies.

But in truth, I’ll come back to Sugiyama and seek out kaiseki experiences in other restaurants for something sweeter: the wonderful window they throw open on Japanese food and culture.

Take a Bigger Bite of Japan

NewYork

Sugiyama

251West 55th St.

212-956-0670

www.sugiyama-nyc.com

Three-course dinner: $32;five-course dinner: $58; eight-course modern kaiseki dinner: $75

KAI

822Madison Ave.

212-988-7277

www.itoen.com/kai

Seven-course kaiseki dinner: $85