EATING OUT, TOKYO STYLE

While Kyoto has its culinary charms as reported earlier, there is really nothing to compare with the restaurant scene in one of the world's most sophisticated and worldly capital cities.

Our Tour Manager, H.L. Todd, worked in Tokyo some two decades ago for an advertising agency long enough to become well acquainted with the local dining scene. Our first evening in town, therefore, after acquainting folks with how to use the extensive city subway system to best advantage, I suggested we try out the newest addition to the system (the Oedo line) by making our way to nearby Roppongi, long thought of as the trendy center of Tokyo's nightlife, for dinner. It proved to be one of the best suggestions I have ever made with respect to an evening 's dining entertainment.

Once we arrived in the area, Todd took charge and led us through the gauntlet of African touts (the latest rage) anxious to have us patronize the particular clubs and bars paying their wages, down a narrow pedestrian-only side street, then into an even narrower alleyway. At our destination, about halfway down the block, we ducked into a narrow hallway and descended past a newly-opened bar, its doorway heaped with flowery "welcome to the neighborhood" bouquets, to the second basement level.

Here we found Wakaba, a very special restaurant Todd had first patronized some twenty years earlier. The place was lively and nearly full, its six tables occupied, so we were seated at the counter. The handwritten menu was done in a difficult-to-read spidery script, but we made out a few items to order. Then we were handed a menu in English -- or an approximation thereof, at any rate; we kept having to refer to the nearby Japanese to figure out, for instance, that "fly to crab craws" was "fried crab claw meat". While we were making up our minds, small dishes of sliced raw fish and cubes of peppery beef arrived to whet the appetite for what was to come.

Once we had decided in conjunction with the counter waitress what to order, she suggested we might want one more dish to round everything out nicely. Completely at a loss, we asked if the Master (chef/owner) might have a suggestion. The waitress called him over for a consultation; he asked what else we had ordered, then looked us over and said, "Leave it to me". So we did -- with some trepidation since some of the prices on the printed menu were rather stratospheric!

Once underway the resulting meal was stupendous and included, among other distractions, duck sausage with a tangy pimento sauce, a plate of five vegetable dumplings, a clear soup to die for and a small succulent fish filet brushed with a miso (soy) topping.

As we ate, of course, we watched the Master at work behind the counter. As he busied himself, selecting garnishes, slicing fish into the thinnest of translucent slices, layering and arranging the ingredients into the perfect presentation, we found ourselves commenting aloud to one another on what we were seeing: "What do you suppose THAT is?" Look at THAT!""What's he doing now?" We then realized we had begun to sound exactly like the inane celebrity commentators on cable television's Iron Chef. We would catch ourselves, laugh a bit, then -- within minutes -- be back at it again!

Among our fellow diners were a set of three businessmen, obviously regulars, who were thoroughly enjoying themselves; an older man in serious conversation with a younger coworker (we imagined they were in a sempei menor-mentee relationship working on career advancement strategies); and, most intriguingly, a foursome -- two men, two women -- in which the better dressed, handsomer male was clearly trying to impress the more beautiful of the two women.

The young man's strategies were clearly working, and working well: first, he arrived late, sweeping into the place with a flourish, clearly a busy young executive on the way up; then he carefully removed his impeccably-taylored suit coat as he greeted his guests, adopting his role as host with another casual flourish; next -- working in close consultation with the waitress -- he chose the evening's menu, demonstrating his knowledge of both fine food and wine.

The opening course -- which we watched the Master prepare -- consisted of a block of ice covered with two fresh bamboo leaves and a layer of eatable chrysanthemum leaves topped with thinly sliced sashimi and nestled into a bowl of oysters on the half shell amidst a web of daikon (white radish) threads! This guy clearly knew what he was doing ...

As we took all this in, Todd and I began to converse about how it was possible, in the midst of a decade-long recession, for a place like this to survive and prosper. This was not casual dining but instead demanded a level of sophistication and savour faire needing to be nurtured over time and with considerable effort. Where did these "ordinary middle class" Japanese gourmands come from? How did they develop such knowledgeable palettes? Where did the money come from to support this "fine dining" habit? And what was a restaurant catering to this crowd doing in the second basement of a nondescript building off an alley in Roppongi?

Later, after the crowd had cleared out a bit, the Master came over for a bit of conversation. Todd mentioned how he had originally patronized the place years ago, and the Master acknowledged that he had just been starting out back then. Pointing to one of the two sous chefs, he indicated that now he was training his son to take over the business. He then told us his four secrets for success: a great chef, a well-trained and supportive staff, a dedication to customer service and -- most importantly -- an appreciative and knowledgeable consumer!

That combination is what makes the Tokyo restaurant experience so very special -- extraordinary food, impeccable service and a sophisticated clientele.

We then asked if the Master was acquainted with the Iron Chef television series and mentioned how we had found ourselves engaged in a running commentary similar to that found on the show as we watched him at work. With a twinkle in his eye, he told us he had actually appeared on the program, not once, but twice! His duck sausage had been a big hit, but he said the experiences were mixed in his opinion because success on the show depends so much on a level of teamwork and coordination not emphasized in his smaller establishment.

The tab for the evening, by the way, including drinks, came to less than fifty dollars apiece, not bad at all for such a life-enhancing experience!