As most baristi will agree, coffee is temperamental.  The hardest part of the extraction process is consistency.  A great espresso comes with no guarantee of one just as good the next. It is imposible to name a single shop with the most consistently good espresso, because there is no such thing as consistently good espresso. It is only possible to share where and when all the variables, ranging from the barista to the weather, aligned to create an incredible extraction.

In this list, I present the top five espresso shots I’ve had this year.

#5 Kafé Esaias, Stockholm, Sweden (Nov 21, 2011 / La Marzocco Strada MP) (Photos)

This shot was pulled from da Matteo‘s Guatemala beans which, while bright, were tempered by the beans’ darker nutty flavors. Barista Charl draws some of the finest latte art I’ve ever seen, from an ornate rosetta to a fish swimming in the ocean.

#4 The Queens Kickshaw, Astoria, NY (May 25, 2011 / La Marzocco Strada MP) (Photos)

This shot was made with Coffee Labs beans from Nayarit, Mexico, full of berry notes with a gentle acidity. The flavor was remarkably like strawberry — add a dash of milk and it would have been strawberries and cream. Owner/Barista Ben Sandler is obsessive with the quality of his espresso, often pulling multiple shots until the extraction is perfect. This was the shop that opened my eyes to the burgeoning culinary scene in Astoria. Go.

#3 Nozy Coffee, Tokyo, Japan (Jan 3, 2011 / Synesso Cyncra)

At Nozy, espresso is pulled from a variety of single origin beans, each generally high in acidity and fruit notes. The shop is located just outside the city center, creating a calmer suburban atmosphere in which to enjoy a cup of coffee. The staff is young, but don’t let that be misleading: they are very experienced. This cafe is a must visit for any coffee lover while in Tokyo.

#2 Bear Pond Espresso, Tokyo, Japan (Jan 2, 2011 / La Marzocco FB80)

Barista Katsu Tanaka has strict guidelines for his espresso. So much so, in fact, that his shop in Shimokitazawa only serves espresso between the hours of 10 and 12pm, when he is personally in house to pull the shot. He has a strong dislike for sourness and shies away from acidity. The result is a thick, chocolately shot with a subtle hint of smoke. His extractions are so viscuous, one could likely turn an espresso cup upside down without any liquid spilling out. A visit to Bear Pond Espresso is worth a trip to Tokyo alone.

#1 Sweetleaf Coffee and Tea, Long Island City, NY (Nov 15, 2011 / La Marzocco Strada EP) (Photos)

Sweetleaf was the first cafe in New York City to receive La Marzocco’s Strada EP, the newest electronic paddle version of its popular Strada series. This machine allows baristi to focus on the myriad other variables of the extraction while the machine handles the pressure profiling automatically. When co-owner Rich Nieto received this machine he said, “all hell broke loose” in learning how to use it. It’s clear that the time and effort the team at Sweetleaf put into mastering this machine has paid off. This was not only my favorite shot of the year, but likely that I’ve ever had. The shot, pulled from Ritual Roaster‘s Volare beans from Guatemala, was extremely balanced, straddling the line between fruit and acidity. The texture was smooth like velvet leaving behind a creamy, buttery mouthfeel. I can’t wait to see what happens in 2012 as Sweetleaf further masters this powerful machine.

Honorable Mentions:

• Blue Bottle Coffee, Williamsburg, New York
• Café Passmar, Mexico City, Mexico
• Johan & Nyström, Stockholm, Sweden
• Ritual Coffee, San Francisco
• Stumptown Coffee, New York

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One aspect of the Molecular Bar that makes the experience so fun is its chefs.  Instead of creating an environment in which interactivity is passive-aggressively shunned, chef Ramsey and his team explained the back story of each dish and how it related to Japanese culture.  This was particularly crucial for the nostaligic dishes as many of the diners did not grow up in Japan.  Questions were encouraged, and frankly, this in-depth understanding of the food I was eating really added another dimension to the meal’s enjoyment.  Not only did I learn a tremendous amount about the food and its preparation, but I felt like I was eating a story with each course.

Glögg – A small amuse bouche shot glass of the Scandinavian spiced Christmas drink.

Chupa Tapas – A candied foie gras pâté shaped and wrapped to look like a Chupa Chups lollypop.  This was unbelievable, and possibly the best thing I’ve tasted in awhile.  Eaten in one bite, the crunchy sugar shell cracks into a crispy brittle adding textural contrast to the smooth and creamy foie gras.  The rich flavor in combination with the caramel flavored sweetness was incredible.

Tai Chazuke – Chazuke is a Japanese soup made from green tea, dashi broth, and rice.  It is often topped with dried seaweed, pickled vegetables, fish roe, and other salty and sometimes sour savory ingredients.  Like porridge, this dish is a way to utilize leftover rice as the water re-hydrates it.  In this dish a lean slice of sea bream was served alongside a spherified tea ball with crunchy miso beads.  In the mouth the ingredients combine and re-create the nostaligic flavor of Chazuke.  This was a pretty original concept.

Bacalao Espuma – A shot glass of cod foam layered with tomato puree and a small bread crisp to add textural contrast.  The salty cod foam spread like whipped cream on the crouton, the tomato added a hint of sweetness.  This was quite good.

Chef Ramsey demonstrating the spherification technique. This technique, originally conceived by El Bulli, is used here to create a dish that looks like caviar.  The spheres form when sodium alginate is dripped into a cold calcium chloride solution forming a skin over the liquid beads.

Roast Pepper Caviar - This was a dish more about the concept than the flavor.  The texture was similar to caviar, though not identical.  For me the defining fingerprint of caviar is a briny and salty flavor in combination with a cold temperature and burst-in-your-mouth consistency.  This dish had none of those, so while the concept was playful it was still far from caviar.  I also don’t really like the flavor of sweet red pepper.  This was my least favorite course of the night.

Sushi – Cubed tuna tartar atop a rice foam.  In the mouth the ingredients mixed creating an identical flavor profile to tuna sashimi.  This was a really great concept.

Black truffle and lily bulb – This was an exceptional dish.  A light and fluffy lily froth garnished with caramelized garlic and fragrant black truffle shavings.  The nutty and pasty chunks of lily bulb at the bottom — a bit like chestnut without the sweetness — added a creaminess without making the soup too rich.  The warm fragrance from the truffle really brought everything together.

King crab and uni – A light and fresh followup to the previous course.  A variation of this dish was served at my previous meal here called “Red.”  Unlike last time, however, this dish had focus and the ingredients really worked well together.  The simple tomato-infused jelly brought out some of the latent vegetal flavor of the crab.  The uni added sweetness.

Kasago – Roasted scorpion fish with a dried miso powder and crispy skin “chicharron.”

Lobster, potato, and Vanilla – Butter-poached lobster with a potato gnocchi and vanilla broth.  The aroma of the vanilla with the butter gave the lobster a lighter and sweeter flavor.

Secreta de Iberico – Iberian cured ham covered in a cloud of smoke.  The smoking process happened in front of our eyes as the chef explained the dish.

Xiaolongbao – Traditionally a type of steamed bun from eastern China, also known as “soup dumplings.”  The dumplings are stuffed with broth and are usually eaten with a spoon to collect the bouillon as it spills out.  Similarly, the lamb rib was filled with jus creating a natural dumpling.  When eaten in one bite the juice mixes with the already moist meat making this chop taste even sweeter.

Wagyu – Thick wedges of wagyu beef with baby carrot and greens.

Miso soup – A spherified ball of dashi broth served alongside miso marbles and dusted with dried nori powder.  In the mouth the ingredients mixed creating the texture and flavors of miso soup.

Snow – A light peanut mousse covered with nut brittle.

Petits fours – A sacher torte of apricot jam inside of chocolate cake with a clear candy dome encasing, a miniature mont blanc (a fresh chestnut cream dessert), a thin slice of cinnamon toast, and a small effervescent pink disc called “raspberry soda.” Last was a black truffle flavored chocolate truffle. The smell of the truffle coming from the chocolate was immediately noticeable.

Fruits – Lemon, lime, and strawberry.  First, Chef Ramsey instructed us to taste a lime to ensure its sourness.  We then chewed on the miracle fruit for thirty seconds without any indication of what it would do to our tastebuds.  Afterwards, we popped the sour lemon and limes like they were the sweetest fruits imaginable.  The miracle fruit prevented our tongue from tasting sour leaving behind only the sweet taste of sugar.

My recent meal told a story.  This meal was no hodgepodge of ingredients forming disjoined courses.  Many of the dishes invoked memories of Japanese comfort food only told from a different perspective.  The fast-paced service kept the twenty-course meal alive and exciting.  This was an edible show, and it tasted really good.

This is certainly one of the coolest restaurants in Tokyo right now.  I can’t wait to go back.

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Outside of Japan, tempura batter is thick and greasy — often soggy and wet — making this deep-fried food taste more like sloppy, oily leftovers.  I can’t begin to count the number of times I’ve tasted shrimp tempura and had the plump tempura shell separate from the shellfish, or a piece of broccoli tempura that oozes fat like a sponge wringing out water.  Most of the time, especially in the US, tempura is fried food gone very wrong.

At Ten-ichi, tempura is light and fluffy.  Each piece of fish or vegetable is individually flash-fried at such a high temperature that the oil barely has little chance to penetrate the food.  The batter is thin and weightless, completely integrating with the food: it would be nearly impossible to separate it.

Ten-ichi tempura, in Ginza, is one of my favorite places for tempura.  Diners sit around a counter where a highly-skilled chef fully concentrates on each piece — one at a time — ensuring perfect temperature and timing while frying.  The flash-fried food is then immediately handed to diners before it has a chance to get soggy, which would be impossible if eaten at a table.

The menu has several tasting options, each of which varies in terms of quantity.  Ten-ichi is a reminder that deep-fried food has a place in fine dining.  This is the first time that I had a glass of white wine with a tempura dinner.  Each piece of fish and vegetable is dipped in tentsuyu, or a combination of dashi broth, soy sauce, mirin, and sugar mixed with freshly grated white radish.  Alternatively, some fish can be dipped in salt and squeezed with a few drops of fresh lemon, this worked particularly well for the white fish.

Today’s menu - Asparagus, Eggplant, Scallions, Ginko Nuts, Lotus Root, Scallops, White Fish, Squid, and Shitake Mushroom.

The chef flash-fries each piece of tempura individually – The temperature of the oil is so hot, and its clarity so pristine, that the fish does not have a chance to absorb much of the oil.  The oil forms a paper-thin irregularly shaped coating around the fish and vegetables adding a layer of crunch.

Shrimp tempura – Light and fluffy, this batter is full of air pockets and blisters.  The batter is completely bound to the shrimp; it is nearly impossible to separate it.  (Keep in mind that the grey spots in the above photo is the shadow of the shrimp — there is hardly any residue.)

Flash-fried scallop – The flash-frying process leaves the inside warm and translucent.  The batter was able to bring out the latent umami making the scallop taste like meat.

Whole white fish – Boneless white fish eaten in its entirety.  The frying process renders the tail and its small bones crispy and edible.  This was outstanding, not in the least bit salty.

Mango – Dessert is a few bites of a perfectly ripe mango.  No ice-cream tempura here.

Diners enjoying counter-style tempura.

Ten-ichi is a reminder that tempura doesn’t have to be greasy and disgusting.  When done properly, flash frying can bring out the nutty flavors of fish and vegetables that is not possible with other cooking methods.  Ten-ichi is a must visit; it is tempura done right.

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Beige is essentially a restaurant by a high-end designer in collaboration with Alain Ducasse. The food is also pretty good. The menu highlights traditional French ingredients, most of which are flown in from Europe. The dishes read in Alain Ducasse style with a simple ingredient made bold by a bombardment of luxurious accoutrements. The restaurant’s dishes are consistent and familiar.

Dining room of Beige, Tokyo – Floor-to-ceiling windows let in the glowing lights of Tokyo’s “Fifth Avenue,” the Ginza fashion district.

Cocktail room – Grab a drink before the meal begins

Gougères – Warm and airy cheese puffs, straight from the oven.

Preserved foie gras, sour apple, quince marmalade – A stick of foie gras pâté with sour apple and quince for acidity. This went great with the warm bread rolls.

Foie gras and chestnut-filled ravioli, sauteed vegetables, duck bouillon – Thin pockets of ravioli filled with creamy foie gras. The duck bouillon was a bit salty which was fine when eaten in combination with the chestnuts which needed the additional salting, but made the sweetness of the liver tough to taste.

Sea scallops, quickly seared, lettuce cream flavored with hazelnut butter, shaved white truffle – A giant sea scallop atop a bed of creamy lettuce puree and rich hazelnut butter. The combination of the hazelnut butter with the strong scent of the white truffle was intoxicating. The scallop was almost an afterthought, a small baguette with hazelnut butter and white truffle is all this dish really needed.

Farm-raised egg cooked “en cocotte,” butternut squash trompettes, mushrooms and white truffle – This was a dish that sounded better on the menu. There was too much “noise” distracting from the thick and runny egg yolks — they were barely detectable amongst the sea of crouton bits and cream sauce.

Langoustines roasted with black pepper, celery/pineapple flavoured in a coco/curry sauce – A firm tail of Brittany lobster over a coconut and curry-infused lobster reduction. This was delicious. The intensity of the sauce was much like a strong lobster bisque, only with a hint of sweet curry — almost like a nutty nutmeg flavor. The lobster was quite firm though not overcooked, a property of the Breton lobster.

Bresse chicken, seasonal vegetables, black truffle sauce with grated truffles – A thick chunk of Bresse chicken breast with turnip, carrot, and black truffle. The chicken was really dry which made it tough to enjoy this course. The truffles also lacked fragrance. This was my least favorite course of the night.

Cheese plate:
- Beaufort with dried grape, apricot, jujube palm, and fig.
- Roves des Garrigues, tappenade of black olives
- Bleau d’auvergne, endives, salad with walnut marmelade
- Munster, flavored with cumin, gewurztraminer jelly

Raspberry sablé with almond - A thin raspberry-flavored wafer with a weightless almond cake, topped with fresh raspberries, caramel, and a raspberry sauce. This was light and its hint of acidity welcome after a string of heavy main dishes.

Roasted apple with chestnut ice cream – This dish just tasted like the fall. Warm apples with cinnamon, caramel, nutmeg, and a generous scoop of chestnut ice cream.

Petits fours

Marshmallows

Pot de crème – laced with a fine layer of raspberry

Chanel chocolates – Dark chocolate embossed with the Chanel logo.

Take-home macarons – Green “matcha” tea, passion fruit, and raspberry.

The meal was a lot of fun and I left absolutely stuffed, but I can’t say the dishes were exciting or revelatory. The restaurant seemed a bit more about style than substance with most of the dishes being familiar flavors with expensive ingredients used for the sole purpose of making the dish seem more “luxurious” without adding much to the taste.

I think it’s worth stopping by to see the space because the design really is something special. Maybe for an appetizer or small snack from the à la carte menu. But it’s hard to justify a full meal here when there are so many more exciting and original places in Tokyo.

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Located in the basement floor of a nondescript building in Ginza, Sushi Kanesaka is unassuming.  Its thirty-something year old chef, Shinji Kanesaka, offers no indication from talking with him that he holds two Michelin stars.  He is both humble and friendly.

The restaurant only serves omakase.  However Chef Kanesaka’s palette seems to prefer shellfish, which is what I would mostly order anyway.  What made this restaurant so special aside from the freshness of ingredients was the fish selection: I wouldn’t have ordered anything different from what was served.  Chef Shinji Kanesaka read my mind.

Fluke sashimi – Thin slices of lean fluke with a glass of Sapporo beer.

Uni sashimi – Cold, firm, milky, and sweet.  Serving this so early in the meal was a sign that this was going to be a good night.

Chuo-toro sashimi – Medium fatty tuna.

Simmered ankimo – Monkfish liver in a ponzu sauce.  The creaminess of the liver, with a texture similar to firm foie gras, contrasted against the bright sauce.  This was exceptional.

Grilled kobashira – Small scallops dry roasted on a wooden skewer.  The roasting process gave the scallops a second skin that was tougher than the translucent inside.  It also added a hint of smokiness.  I really liked these.

Simmered abalone before slicing – Whole abalone simmered in its seawater.

Simmered abalone – Sliced and served warm, sashimi style.

Akamai – Lean tuna brushed with soy sauce.

Toro – Full fatty tuna.  This might have been the softest piece of Tuna I have ever tasted.  The cold creaminess of the fish in combination with the short-lived, nose-strong spice from the wasabi sent chills down my spine.

Hamachi – Yellowtail sushi.  It’s amazing how similar the texture was to the fatty tuna, only a little bit firmer.

Aji – Japanese jack mackerel.  Just a hint of skin was left on.

Ika – Firm and chewy.

Kohada – A bit fishy from the brining process, but in a really good way.  This was a bit more mild than saba (mackerel) and less salty.  The taste of vinegar was powerful, clearing my palate for what was to come.

Uni sushi – No frills sea urchin and rice.  Even the seaweed, which usually wraps around the rice preventing the urchin from spilling over, was left out.  This made the texture extra creamy and sweet, as the saltiness from the seaweed was omitted.  I can still taste this course in my mouth.

Akagai – Arc shell clam.  Sort of looked like an octopus grabbing hold of a chunk of rice.  (Or a scalp massager.)  My friend actually teared while eating this.  He said it was the best piece of fish he’d ever tasted in his life.

Miso cod sushi – Cod glazed and roasted in miso sauce.  This was sweet and served warm.

Tekamaki – Tuna roll.  Sometimes the best bites comes from a simple combination of super-crispy seaweed with warm rice.

Tamago – Egg omelette.  This was sweet and custardy, more like a pâte de fruit.

Chef Kanesaka and his assistant spent most of the night cracking jokes with us, switching modes between quiet and masterful sushi chef and someone who would be a lot of fun to hang out with.  This friendly and interactive demeanor really put us at ease, particularly when we had questions about the food or about sushi in general.  Chef Kanesaka got as much enjoyment out of us enjoying his food as we did tasting it.

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Kyubei sushi, in Ginza, is perfect for diners who want to chose their own fish.  The relatively informal atmosphere in combination with ease of getting a reservation at one of its five locations throughout the city makes it a good option for a last-minute dinner decision.  Besides, who can object to a meal of eight pieces of unimaginably fresh sea urchin sushi?  (I’ve done it before.)  The fish at Kyubei is extremely fresh and the pricing much more reasonable than Sukiyabashi Jiro.

Shimaaji – Striped horse mackerel.  Clean and bright.

Live Kurumaebi – Still throbbing on the rice.  The gorgeous metallic-grey and silver color of the fish indicates its extreme freshness.  This was sprinkled with sea salt.  The flavor was not sweet and even slightly bitter, unlike amaebi, the sweeter and small shrimp variety.

Kurumaebi head – The heads of the shrimp were grilled in the back while we ate the raw body.  The cooking process renders the flavor slightly sweet.

Kobashira – Small scallops lightly brushed with soy sauce.  The cold and smooth scallops contrasting against the warm, dry, and crunchy seaweed is an amazing combination that must be eaten quickly.  After about fifteen seconds the seaweed starts to get soggy.

Hamaguri – Lightly brushed with a sweet soy sauce that complimented the clam’s natural sweetness.  This was a little more chewy than I was used to.

Shirako – Sperm sack of cod, or milt.  This took awhile to get used to. The first time I tried it I couldn’t get past the creamy flavor.  But the grilling process dries it a bit making the texture less milky and more crunchy on the outside.  Still not my favorite dish but it can be quite good when grilled.

Botan ebi – spot prawn.

Uni – Sweet, firm, and very cold.

Natomaki – This is one of those rolls that I inexplicably crave once in awhile.  Fermented soybeans wrapped with sushi rice and seaweed.  The flavor is both sour and salty, the texture very sticky.

Chef preparing negamaki – Diced toro with scallions.

Anago and unagi – Grilled fresh and salt-water eel.

Tamago – Sweet and creamy.  The texture was slightly dense making it more like a custard than egg cake.

Clear broth soup (dashi) with vegetables

Pickled root vegetables – I love the acidic crunch these vegetables give.  It’s refreshing without any sugar.

White radish with shiso leaf and pickled plum paste, sprinkled with sesame - The perfect dessert after a sushi meal.  The shiso made the pickled plum paste taste sweet.

Kyubei’s multiple locations through Tokyo in combination with its slightly less formal atmosphere makes it a great destination for ordering a la carte sushi.  The chefs at Kyubei generally speak good english and are quick to show a smile.  The fish quality is excellent: still some of the best fish available in Tokyo.

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Pierre Gagnaire Tokyo, in some ways, was the complete opposite.  There were few risks.  Everything was consistent.  This is good in the sense that no single course was particularly disappointing; bad, however, that nothing was exceptional.  Exceptional cuisine balance risk-taking and spontaneity with consistency, and it’s no easy task.  My meal here was an extremely toned-down version of my meal in Paris.

Pierre Gagnaire Tokyo closed for a bit and recently re-opened at the top of the ANA Intercontinental Hotel.  This meal took place at the original location, directly across the street from Prada Aoyama.

Amuses bouches with wine.

Langoustine salpicon with melanosporum black truffles, Shellfish wurtz, ice plant, and Japanese pearls. The ice plant was interesting: thin green leaves coasted with crispy translucent bubbles that bursted in your mouth.  The wurtz was light and airy tasting almost like a lobster bisque.

Abalone and Meishan ham grilled with sage, braised lettuce heart, chorizo, and crispy lard.  The texture of the abalone was fantastic: firm with a hint of crispiness on the edges.

Roasted Amadai snapper “with crispy scales,” sea urchin velouté. The cracking skin of the snapper almost looked like pomelo seeds.  The texture was crispy but moist from the high fat content.  The velouté glowed a golden yellow from the sea urchin, which filled every crevice of the skin.  This was delicious.

Sea urchin with “soba sauce jelly,” crunchy turnips, Nori seaweed flakes. This was clean, fresh, and bright.  The mild and slightly salty soba jelly set the stage for the natural sweetness of the sea urchin.  This was the highlight course of the night.

Foie gras pan-fried with green pepper, pear-raisins-celeriac marmalade, western burdock with pomegranate juice.  This was very fatty and greasy.  The acidity of the pomegranate helped to break up the fatty mouthfeel a bit, but I thought this was missing some kind of absorbant bread or fruit to soak up the oils from the liver.

Prime cut of grilled Hitachi beef lacquered with red wine sauce, cuttlefish with lime, onion confit with watercress. Gagnaire’s use of sweet red wine sauces and meat is truly exceptional.  The sauce was bright and fruity and not at all cloying.  It developed a sweet caramel taste in combination with the fatty meat.  The cuttlefish was chewy and firm, much like the texture of thinly sliced abalone.  The lime zest added a touch of fruity acidity to help brighten the flavor of the meat allowing it to mix with the cuttlefish.

Mont d’Or cheese, orange syrup, lamb’s lettuce and fennel salad with hazelnut oil.

Table of desserts. Strawberry and pineapple tart in a martini glass, strawberry with chantilly, chocolate with peanut glace. This course seemed the most Gagnaire-style as our entire table was filled with small plates.  As my friend Chuck recalls, “Do you remember the desserts? When they filled the table full of plates?”  This was a tempered down version of the potluck of desserts served in Paris.  I also found it strange that three of the four desserts highlighted strawberries.  It was as if the kitchen had five ingredients and combined them in different ways.

The meal was enjoyable but lacked the passion and impromptu nature of the dishes in Paris.  After my meal in Paris I complained that there was too much risk leading to several courses that just didn’t work.  As the motto goes, be careful what you wish for.  Here there was not enough risk lending to a weakened intensity and diversity of flavors.

I dream of a meal at Gagnaire full of impulse and spur-of-the-moment zeal where the luck lands on my side.  I just haven’t had that yet.

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The restaurant, paneled with art deco paintings by Valerio Adami, has gone through several chefs over the last five years, the most recent of whom, Nadine Waechter Moreno, took over as Chef de Cuisine in August of 2010.  My experiences at the Park Hyatt were under the previous chef, Stefan Moerth.

The restaurant has international Western-style fare with an emphasis on steak and shellfish.  The menu is divided into appetizers and mains as opposed to Japanese-style small plates.  There are a few tasting menus each varying in quantity and cost.  I’ve eaten here a few times, and while I’ve yet to have a really delicious meal here, something about the view and ambience keeps me wanting to come back.

The Tokyo skyline at night is entrancing.  There aren’t many skyscrapers in this city due to the prohibitive cost of earthquake-resistant construction.  Instead of building up this city builds out: it spreads as far as the eye can see in all directions creating an ocean of lights.

The Park Hyatt is in West Shinjuku the business district of Tokyo where there are a handful of skyscrapers, but the rest of the city is relatively flat.  From some vantage points it almost feels like looking out an airplane window.  It is nearly impossible to tire of this view.

Getting to the New York Grill from street level is a bit of a trip.  It involves an elevator to the sky lobby, followed by a walk from one end of the hotel to the other, to a final elevator from the sky lobby to the top 52th floor.  Once out of the elevator a receptionist is waiting to greet.  To the left is the New York Grill, to the right, the bar.

A walk through the restaurant passes by the open kitchen where the clanking of pots and pans echo off the vaulted ceilings.  The heat from the stoves and plating lamps can be immediately felt.  The kitchen is the brightest point in the entire room.  Like an open stage the kitchen is focused under the spotlights and the restaurant’s seating takes a back seat in the dimly lit audience.

We ordered from the tasting menu, a five-course International tour focused on Japanese ingredients with a brief stop in Australia.

Prosciutto and Fresh Burrata – As we browsed through the wine list our waiter brought us a plate of finely-sliced prosciutto and burrata cheese.  The cheese was cold and squeeky and drizzled with olive oil and pepper.  Underneath the meat was a wedge of melon and a strawberry.  This was simple and enjoyable, though the cheese was a bit firm and the dusting of pepper seemed out of place.

We ordered a bottle of Robert Mondavi Cabernet 2002.  I remember the distinct smell of fresh coffee coming from my glass

Fresh Hokkaido Taraba Crab, Marinated Vegetables and Oscietre Caviar – A small greens salad with chunks of fresh crab and an aioli with bits of caviar.  This is one of those dishes that sounds much better in description than in reality.  There was nothing particularly wrong with this dish, it was just ordinary and unoriginal.

Smoked Cod Chowder with Fresh Sorrel - A smokey cream soup with chunks of potato and cod.  The soup was drizzled with olive oil and fresh sorrel.  Aside from the fresh sorrel, this dish was indistinguishable from most soups available at diners in New York; it was unoriginal and generally plain.

Confit of Guinea Fowl and Foie Gras – A rich lobe of foie gras rolled in guinea fowl and garnished with mixed greens.  This was pretty good.  The contrast between the soft and creamy foie gras and firmer more lean fowl kept each bite interesting.  The texture of the fowl, served cold, was somewhere in-between chicken and duck.  This was one of the best courses of the night.

Australian Southern Rock Lobster, Black Truffle, Champagne Sauce – A firmer less-sweet variety of lobster served with specks of black truffle and a champagne sauce.  The champagne sauce had similar qualities to a vin jaune making the combination of the lobster and champagne sauce develop a nutty quality with slight acidity.  I’m not really sure why this dish was labeled as black truffle as the specks of truffle were pretty tough to spot.  This was the highlight course of the night, but despite the large plate it was two to three bites.

Grilled Miyazaki “Koyama Ribeye” with Braised Beef Cheek – A perfectly grilled ribeye with a small mashed potato tart crowned with soft beef cheek.  The grass-fed beef was fantastically lean yet supple, its glowing purple interior contrasting against the perfectly symmetrical brown diamond grill marks.  The cheek was very sour from the sauce even with the potatoes to help absorb some of its strength.  This dish was ok, but also felt uninspired.

Comé, Bleu d’Auvergne, Langrès, Selles-sur-cher - A plate of French cheeses with vine-dried raisins and kumquats.  Bleu d’Auvergne is always one of my favorite cheeses with its spicy flavors of grass and roses.  The Selles-sur-cher, coated in edible ash, was dry, mild and smooth with notes of sweet cherry.  My favorite, however, was the Langrès a juicy and creamy cheese most similar to époisses but a bit more mild in intensity with more salt.  It took a bit of time to fully grasp that we were in the middle of Tokyo eating cheeses from the other side of the world.

Chocolat Coulant – A chocolate cake covered in candied walnuts served with chantilly and a generous scoop of vanilla ice cream.  The dish was spiced with cocoa powder and what seemed like a crème anglaise.

At the end of the meal my opinion was divided.  On the one hand the food was lackluster.  Sure the lobster was pretty good, but even the highlight courses were uneventful and routine.  The meal was passionless.  But, the view in combination with the live music was spectacular!

Is a good view enough to justify a visit?  It’s a difficult decision.  For me, this was the view of the city I saw the first night I came to Tokyo seven years ago.  There’s a special nostalgic element to it that keeps pulling me back.

This space has so much potential to really be a great restaurant but there needs to be some big change in the menu.  It seems that Hyatt has caught on to this need by dint of the kitchen re-shuffling.  I have not yet tried the cooking under the new chef Moreno who took command this past August but hopefully this is the change for the better that this restaurant needs.

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I had a meal here in 2006 and never got around to posting it.  But I have such strong and positive memories about my experience here that it would be an injustice not to share it.  I’m going to post what I remember based on my notes.  I ate here before Michelin came to Tokyo and rated this restaurant three stars.  It’s interesting to see how this restaurant seems to have only gotten better since then.

After being seated our French-speaking waiter came over and guided us through the menu.  We essentially made our own tasting based on the courses that sounded the most interesting.  Shortly after an assortiment of breads all baked in house were brought to the table: chestnut, milk, whole grain, baguette, and raisin.  Some of the rolls were still warm.

Rose consome with cilantro and tomato ravioli – This was served cool just below room temperature.  What was immediately apparent was the fragrance of the rose.  It smelled sweet and citrusy like a fresh pineapple.  (I can’t stand when rose-infused dishes smell like bathroom soap.)  The flavor was bright and refreshing with minimal sweetness.  The ravioli had some chew to it and the inside spilled out with the first bite.  This was great.

White and green asparagus with truffle sauce and sabayon – Fat stalks of lightly cooked asparagus with a truffle cream.  The asparagus were served warm and a bit watery due to their thickness.  The art-deco geometric presentation matched the decor of the restaurant.  This was a bit ordinary, the only course of the meal that I wasn’t too happy about.  The consistency of the sauce was too close to mayonaise for me to really enjoy it.

Turbot encrusted in parsley and mushrooms with a lettuce and curry sauce – The way the vegetal bitterness of the cooked lettuce and parsley interacted with the curry was phenomenal.  I generally don’t like curry but in this case its subtle inclusion added a hint of sweetness that really brought out the flavors of the turbot.  The curry also had a way to cut through the butteriness of the juicy fish by binding with the oils.  It made this fish taste fatty but feel lean.

Bulgur-fed Duck with a fruit marmelade puree with carrot and cumin, served with a Bergamot reduction – This was outstanding.  The warm tannic-quality of the cumin helped to round out the bright acidity of the Bergamot reduction.  The duck was soft and supple its crispy skin fatty but not oily in the mouth.  The quality of the meat was superb; its juiciness made the duck shine in the light.

We skipped dessert and feasted on the abundance of petits fours.  Trays of macarons, sweet tomato tarts, pot de crèmes, and caramel candies.  Tray after tray of sweets and knickknacks kept arriving much like at Guy Savoy.  Our table was converted into a gorgeous potpourri of color and flavor.

This is one of my two best French meals that I’ve had in Tokyo, the other being at Le Château.  What made this meal particularly interesting was its inclusion of Northern African spices such as cumin and curry.  This shade of fine French cuisine is uncommon in Paris at this level of quality.

Chef Menard really has a gift for serving traditional French dishes while using the best that Japanese cuisine has to offer. The result is a magical combination of classic French cuisine melded with Japanese quality of ingredients and exacting precision.

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The exorbitant prices are justified (somewhat) by the exquisite view.  We were lucky enough to have a window table, and maybe it was the jetlag but I felt like I was eating on the edge of a cliff.  My eyes were in awe of the view: thousands of red lights flickering atop the Tokyo skyline.

The amuses started with a pâté de campagne topped with sundried tomato.  The pâté was on the dry side and lacked the smooth gamey flavor of liver that I like.  I think the leanness of this dish is something that more closely fits the Japanese flavor profile.  Alongside the pâté was a trio of smaller amuses among which the candied espresso foie gras stood out as the most interesting.  I really like coffee but dislike coffee-flavored things.  Here the espresso offered a hint of chocolate flavor and the candy crunch added textural contrast to the smooth foie gras.

Venture de thon mariné au thym, fenouil cruit et cru, anchoïade niçoise, feuilles de roquette aux olives noires – Chunky medallions of thyme-marinated tuna belly with cooked and raw fennel, black olives, and an anchovy sauce.  The acidity of this dish was immediately apparent, particularly the way the slightly-sour olives mixed with the anchovy cream.  It was almost like a tartar sauce.  The rocket added a hint of vegetal bitterness and helped to break up the creamy mayonnaise-texture but its inclusion still seemed a little random.  The tuna belly was just lightly seared leaving the inside a cool magenta.  This dish was good, but a bit boring.

Velouté Du Barry et royale de moule et coquillage au curry – A cauliflower velouté with curried mussels and a shellfish flan.  What’s amazing about this dish is how mild the flavors of cream and butter were despite it being cream-based.  This is a testament to the “Japanification” of a French dish making it lighter.  The curry added a tannic element to the cauliflower helping it integrate with the smooth shellfish flan.  The mussels had a very mild flavor of shellfish, but this was masked a bit by the curry.  This was really good for the first two bites.

Noix de Saint-Jacques toastées, navets étuvés à la vanille et citron confit aux noix – Toasted scallops with stewed vanilla-infused turnips, candied lemon, and walnut.  I loved how the candied lemon brightened the cream sauce.  The cooked turnips were remarkably Japanese in texture only subtly flavored with hint of vanilla.  The scallops were crowned with thin sheets of toast adding textural contrast.  The toast also helped to absorb the sauce.  This dish was outstanding.

Filet de chapon poêlé, fondue de poireau et topinambour, émulsion d’oursin – Roasted scorpionfish with a leek and Jerusalem artichoke confit in a sea urchin emulsion.  This was a fantastic dish.  The skin of the roasted scorpionfish became slightly crunchy and its flavor intensified during the cooking process.  The interior of the fish was smooth and succulent.  The combination of Jerusalem artichoke and sea urchin was particularly interesting: the artichoke somehow made the already sweet urchin taste sweeter, and the salty skin brought everything together.  This was the highlight of the meal for me.

Lamelles d’ormeau tiédies, terrine de haricot coco et poireau aux câpres et caviar, sauce au corail – Thinly sliced warm abalone with a white bean and leek terrine with caviar, lemon, caper, and a “coral sauce.”  It’s interesting how slicing abalone really thin changes the texture from rubber to something a bit more elastic like cooked octopus.  The white beans were a little starchy on the inside leaving them perfectly round, but unfortunately dry.  This made it difficult for them to integrate with the rest of the dish.  I wish the urchin was emphasized a bit more because the way it interacts with the artichoke was fascinatingly delicious.

This meal was particularly special for me because it highlighted French cuisine as seen through a Japanese lens.  Cream sauces were lighter, the vegetables were a little different, the portioning a bit smaller, and sweetness noticeably less.  In some ways, visiting a French restaurant in Tokyo is a real peek into the local Tokyo dining scene.  These are the kinds of restaurants Tokyo-native diners seek out, and the menu and dishes reflect this with their Japanification.

My biggest complain is that a lot of the dishes seemed a bit sterile or lacking soul.  It felt almost as if mechanically prepared.  While technically flawless and quite tasty: where was the love?  There was a tremendous disconnect between the kitchen and the table.  It was almost as if the chef meticulously wrote down the recipes and asked someone else to prepare them.

At the end of the meal, while not particularly moved by the food, I was happy that I went.  The view was truly spectacular, and there was nothing more satisfying than walking home from dinner and crashing for the night.  I don’t think that I would return if I weren’t staying so close to the restaurant, however, as there are just too many amazing restaurants in this city.  But for my first night in the culinary capital of the world, I wasn’t disappointed.

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Kaiseki was going to be a problem. There are just too many places. The number of Michelin starred kaiseki restaurants alone would consume her trip in its entirety; how would I fit in okonomiyaki, teppanaki, yakitori, sukiyaki and shabu shabu? I knew an early morning trip to Tsukiji market was essential, not only for the tuna auction but to show her the abundance of fresh fish that we don’t have access to in the US, and the ease with which it can be purchased here. Besides, forget cereal; what better way to start the day than with a small crate of Hokkaido uni.

To complement our visit to Tsukiji, later that night, I made a reservation at Jisaku Tsukiji, a small kaiseki restaurant on the fish market’s perimeter. Like most well-known kaiseki houses, diners eat in private rooms. This means two things: the meal will be private, and it will be expensive. Thankfully, this was a once in a lifetime experience.

We arrived just past eight, took off our shoes and were shown to our room just across the small garden of trickling water falls and impeccably lit trees and bushes. We sat down on the tatami floor and got comfortable. “I could get used to eating in just socks,” my mother shared. Me too. While this level of comfort wouldn’t function in all dining rooms, Japan’s unique juxtaposition of inelastic formality and attention to personal comfort are still at odds; but somehow, work. With that, our waitress handed us warm towels to settle in, bowed, and silently closed the sliding paper door.

The menu was entirely of fish except for a wagyu course, which I had phoned to reserve in advance. I thought that made sense considering we were practically inside Tsukiji market. The waitress confirmed that we had no food allergies when I made it clear that we are allergic to nothing and eat everything, no matter how strange. At least I do. Thankfully, my mother doesn’t speak Japanese.

The first course what appeared to be a small plate of pickled vegetables and mushroom served with round clam. But looks can be deceiving. I studied the menu closer and found all I needed to find to begin this meal with a large smile. The Japanese word for sea urchin, うに, jumped out at me like food samples in a depachika. Shimeji mushrooms provided a firm texture but overall the dish still skewed more toward a delicate taste of the ocean that balanced the creamy sea urchin with the almost-crunchy clam. This delicious combination was served with crisp cucumber and refreshing seaweed, and another crunchy clam variety for which I don’t know the name.

Suimono is a traditional hot, clear broth served at most kaiseki meals, particularly in the winter, for it’s pure and light flavor and its ability to stimulate the palate as well as warm the body. This soup was served with a crab cake, japanese udo, mizuna, and ginger. The flavor was of bonito and crab, both warm and refreshing, with a hint of ginger to accentuate the flavor of the shellfish. The greens were very lightly cooked preserving their flavor, as well as crunchy texture, adding variety to each spoonful with the soft fish cake. My mother thought this tasted a little bland, which I understand: it did. But the flavor was intentionally muted, both tamed and reserved, as this soup is about the focused, subtle flavor of fish.

Next came a bowl of small white fish served raw and topped with grated white radish and pomegranate seeds. The acidity of the radish, vinegar, and pomegranate brightened both the fish and my palate. The fish were so fresh that its flavor blended almost effortlessly into the background, while only scent was of the vinegar in which the radish marinated. This dish was also served cold which was a nice contrast after the warmth of the suimono — its flavors were almost elevated. My mother ate this dish faster than I did, which almost never happens, a clear sign that she liked it. Swish.

I decided it would be better to tell my mother about the potential toxicity of blowfish after the meal. In retrospect, this might have been a mistake because she did actually finish her portion though a second for me would have been most welcome. Blowfish can either change your life or take it, and conveniently, its peak season lies over the Christmas holidays. Though completely translucent, its crunchy texture resembles a firm mollusk with a uniquely clean and refreshing flavor. This fugu was served with shoots of daikon radish, chives, grated radish, a wedge of bitter orange, and was sauced with ponzu. This is a fish that tastes best when acidulated, particularly with the sour-leaning flavor of bitter orange. The flavor was bright, vibrant and very light. This was my favorite course of the night.

By this point it became clear that nearly every course alternated in a well-thought progression of hot/cold and cooked/raw. Following in this pattern came a small bowl with a variety of cooked Japanese taro, salmon, carrot, and a green vegetable called shintorina. This was prepared in a soy-based broth that provided a light salty background that did not distract me from the flavor of the other ingredients. The salmon was just barely orange and full of soft fatty ridges making the fish slide apart into the broth at the first bite. This dish is proof that salmon can be thoroughly cooked yet still maintain its soft and juicy flavor.

Lobster is a favorite crustacean, but I can’t remember ever loving it grilled as this process makes the moisture evaporate fairly easily. Not here. My grilled lobster was served with sudachi, whose juice had the crustacean acidity while complementing the moisture that was running from the shell. A lovely course that was my mother’s favorite of the evening.

The next course — steamed tilefish with its own eggs, spinach, and enoki mushrooms in a soy-based starch — exemplifies what is meant by Japanese balance. This dish is restrained: there are no sweet, salty, bitter, sour, or other strong flavors that jump out. In fact the broth itself tastes only lightly of bonito. But in the process this white canvas of flavor lets the true and subtle, almost sweet taste of tilefish eggs come through, which is often difficult to detect, even when served raw. The soy broth marinates every bite locking every drop of moisture within. The mushrooms and cooked spinach add textural contrast without distracting from the fish’s flavor.

Finally came the one meat course of Maesawa wagyu beef served with miso, okra, and green pepper. The beef was slightly salty from the miso; but had the pepper to sweeten it. The wagyu’s marbelized fat gently held the succulent meat together making each bite-sized piece soft enough to tear apart without a knife. The okra added vegetal bitterness, and the inside seeds had a sticky texture much like the inside of the peppers. The course was tame and pure, only a few bites in size, just enough to make the inclusion of a fatty meat course considered light.

The tasting had ended, and we were brought miso soup, pickled vegetables, and rice to close the meal. The inclusion of these three dishes is common with kaiseki meals: help yourself if you’re still hungry; but don’t worry too much if you are not. The miso soup was packed with tofu and nameko mushroom, making it more about the contents than the dashi broth itself. I actually found the soup somewhat difficult to drink without a spoon, since its density made the broth stay behind and slide forward in a giant sludge. Tasty; but not what I was expecting.

The pickled vegetables including lotus root, cabbage, white radish, and seaweed had an acidity that worked as a palate cleanser, wiping the savory flavors clean for the subtle flavor of taro rice and later, dessert. My mother doesn’t like pickled vegetables, so I was happy to help her out. Each of these vegetables was crispy and full of water.

Sitting next to the pickled vegetables was a small bowl of taro rice topped with ginko nuts. With the addition of taro, the rice became more chewy and smelled more like barley. A really nice earthy finish.

Dessert came: three small slices of sweet and ripe mango with a strawberry. Being not much of a dessert person, I appreciate the Japanese de-emphasis on sweets and emphasis on simplicity with its desserts. Even though the source of these mangoes was far from Japan, they were still very sweet and juicy.

The second dessert was a small red bean paste wrapped with a striped bean paste wall. The wall collapsed with each bite adding textural variety to the paste. The dessert, while sugared, was of a similar sweetness level to the fruit course that had followed. The dessert was prettier than it tasted, however, and seemed to be more of a novelty than a tasty treat.

As we wound down our meal we sat and talked in our room, overlooking the immaculate garden for some time over roasted green tea. Despite being near freezing outside, the warm tea and heated tatami floor kept us comfortable. The restaurant only does one seating per night, so there was no rush in the world. Despite being completely booked, Jisaku Tsukiji was silent. The only sound to be heard was the trickling water from the garden just outside our window. This was a fantastic meal — delicate and humble, demonstrating that excellent ingredients need nothing other than simple preparation.

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