Ryuji Took the Head Chef of Daikanyama's "In" to the Sushi Restaurant He Calls "the Best of My Life"

According to Ryuji, Ikki was originally located in Chitose-Funabashi and moved to Shibuya in February of this year. Ryuji says he happened to visit after being invited by an acquaintance.

The shoot opens straight away with talk about the head chef's outfit. The head chef showed up in everyday clothes, and a flustered Ryuji says, "I didn't think you'd come dressed like that." Ikki's own head chef was also quite nervous about hosting a chef from another restaurant. The owner explains that he had previously watched the videos featuring In, and that a conversation with a customer on a previous visit is what led to that day's shoot.

The first dish was octopus from Miyagi, a small one of about 1.4 kg, prepared so that it keeps some of its texture. The head chef of In laid out the ways octopus is handled: in the old days, it was pounded with something like a daikon radish to break down the fibers; today, some freeze it to break down the cells, and others use carbonated water. With that in mind, the head chef said the key is a balance that doesn't take away too much of the octopus's natural firmness and texture.

Just by watching the next fish being prepped, the head chef correctly identified it as "Matsukawa karei" (barfin flounder). The owner was surprised, saying, "A lot of chefs probably wouldn't be able to tell just by looking at this." The sashimi that came out was barfin flounder from Hokkaido, with engawa (fin muscle) placed in front and irizake spread underneath. According to the owner, irizake is a seasoning used from around the Heian period, before modern soy sauce became widespread, made by simmering sake with ingredients such as umeboshi. The flounder had been killed that same day and had a firm texture, and the owner served it saying, "Please feel its vitality."

The conversation also turned to practicing nigiri. The head chef recalled that during their training years, scraps of fish never came their way, so they practiced forming nigiri with okara (soy pulp) and paper towels. The owner said he too practiced the whole time on the train commute to work, and the two bonded over the fact that it was embarrassing but they wanted to improve quickly.

Next came a dish made with house-roasted sesame, with a sauce of sesame, dashi and lightly caramelized honey underneath. The head chef fondly recalled being made to grind sesame back when working at a Japanese restaurant, and called it "a favorite." The owner explained, in effect, that while it isn't exactly the restaurant's signature dish, he deliberately serves it so as not to forget his roots.

The chawanmushi was a plain custard with no fillings, topped with three kinds of ingredients. When Ryuji prompted, "The temperature, which you care so much about, is good too, isn't it?", the head chef praised it for not being too hot, saying, "Temperature is incredibly important with chawanmushi. It's no good if it's too hot."

One thing the head chef took a strong interest in was the gari (pickled ginger). This restaurant changes its gari between lunch and dinner. According to the owner, at lunch fewer customers are drinking and the meal centers on nigiri, so he deliberately makes it refreshing and easy to eat. At dinner, he makes it saltier, with more punch, to go with alcohol.

The head chef recommended that Ryuji drink some sake after eating the dinner gari, saying, "What was dry a moment ago will change." Ryuji tried it and was surprised to find it now tasted sweet. The head chef later said again, "If you're pairing it with sushi, gari with this kind of sharpness is delicious," and repeatedly noted that the gari alone works as a snack with drinks.

Incidentally, the head chef can apparently tell what's coming just from watching the grilling or prep stages, and Ryuji joked, "You'd better not look until it comes out."

A dish arrived made from a small ingredient sent by a fisherman named Mr. Fujimoto in Ehime, dressed in sake and soy sauce and sandwiched in nori. The head chef asked, "You don't put shari (sushi rice) in it?", and rice was added on the spot. The owner responded, "The menu's changing," leaving a young chef in a bind. The head chef judged that it was delicious with the rice added, too.

There were other customers at the counter that day. The head chef apologized for the noise while also chatting with the other diners, and the place got quite lively. Ryuji said the situation, with other customers there and not just their group, was "really great," and the head chef later said they were happy to see the other customers, not just their own group, and to see the restaurant taking care of every one of them.

Looking at white squid cut in the ito-zukuri (thread-cut) style, the head chef said, "This kind of knife work didn't exist in the old days." According to the head chef, back in their day, washoku (Japanese cuisine) cooks and sushi chefs had a combative relationship. Sushi was a world of a single knife, and the washoku side regarded sushi chefs as "not like us." The head chef's view is that over time, as chefs pushed each other to improve, this kind of work became something acceptable to do in sushi as well.

The kasugodai (young sea bream) from Oita is brushed with salt water about as salty as seawater. Because the flesh is sweet, soy sauce is deliberately not used. At this point the head chef praised the shari, and Ryuji's staff were surprised, saying, "I've never once heard these two praise the shari." The head chef also remarked on the sharp, focused gaze of the apprentices.

The salt was from Bali, Indonesia, and the head chef loved it, saying they could drink sake with just the salt. The head chef also had an 18-person private booking at their own restaurant that evening.

Next came a dish that deliberately used the meat from the dark-flesh side, where most restaurants use the belly side, and the shari switched to red-vinegar rice. The head chef described the feel of holding the nigiri as "gentle." The sake paired with it was a junmai ginjo of Jokigen, a collaboration with the restaurant.

The owner explained that because the kohada (gizzard shad) is served as a single whole fillet, he makes the shari larger for balance. Here too, the head chef and Ryuji praised the temperature of the shari.

Around this time, the head chef became overwhelmed with emotion, saying, "Tears came the moment I ate it." The reason was that they were happy about all of it: coming to the restaurant Ryuji had introduced as his favorite, and being able to talk with the head chef there. They also praised the apprentice who had carefully prepped the squid, noting that he had been careful the whole time and that it was a cutting technique they didn't know.

Following on from the squid, the topic turned to conversation at the counter. In the head chef's view, when a customer comes in feeling down, it's better to listen and ask, "Is something bothering you?" than to serve them great nigiri so they think, "All right, I'll keep going." Ryuji mentioned that an upcoming video, in which he took his grandmother to the head chef's restaurant, embodies exactly that.

The head chef went on to say, "The character for food is written as 'making people good,' right?", summing up that this is what it means to work in food.

Sardine is said to be the head chef's favorite topping. It has a mixture of grated green onion and ginger tucked in.

The tuna that followed was yellowfin, which the owner deliberately chose; it was treated with shinkei-jime and aged for a month. Yellowfin is not often used in sushi, and the owner acknowledged that part of the reason is that it is seen as lower-grade. The owner apparently catches yellowfin when fishing, and says this is a different thing from what he catches himself. The head chef analyzed that the shinkei-jime method of killing it and the fact that it was marinated are what make it delicious. Tuna producers also came up in conversation. Tuna from Boston was also served on another plate. Ryuji noticed that the owner was applying quite a lot of wasabi.

There was also a dish with elements of washoku: heated to bring out stickiness and combined with dashi. As for the flesh, both the head chef and the owner said you might sense a slightly farmed quality. Because the heads are simmered down for a long time and used, the head chef described it as "Américaine-like."

The head chef also talked about their approach to taking on apprentices. They don't look at résumés; they look at character. First they talk about themself for about an hour and a half, and then ask only three questions. The first is "Do you like women?" — if the answer is yes, that's basically an OK. The reasoning is that the process of winning a woman over and thinking about how to approach her is, in their view, the same as hosting a customer with sushi when they come in. Ryuji took this as "So it's hospitality." After that, the conversation drifted into banter teasing the Buzz Recipe staff.

A dish of egg cooked to a soft, half-set state (not ikura) was, according to the owner, inspired by tamago kake gohan (raw egg over rice), and the shari is changed for it too. Here, the head chef recalled that more than 20 years ago, they served a dish of strained egg yolk poured over chawanmushi and customers reacted with puzzlement. They served it because they thought it was delicious, and now that style of serving has become standard. Ryuji responded, "The times hadn't caught up with you."

The head chef says they are currently experimenting to see whether they can make good low-carb sushi rice. While admitting they think it's no good, the head chef said that you have to keep taking on challenges.

After the anago (conger eel) came kanpyo (dried gourd strips), which Ryuji says is his favorite topping. When Ryuji first came to this restaurant, he was amazed that kanpyo could be this delicious. The owner deliberately serves it warm, explaining that he wants customers to experience the aroma of the kanpyo. It is seasoned only with soy sauce and sugar. The head chef was astonished: "Isn't this way of serving it crazy? I've never seen it anywhere else." Ryuji said it has a fruit-like aroma, and that when it's made with red-vinegar rice, you get a plum-like freshness.

At the head chef's request, the kanpyo was also made into a roll. The head chef paused midway to eat it while feeling its temperature, liked how the wasabi came through, and said, "I never thought I'd be moved by kanpyo." Also served were ara-jiru (fish bone soup), tamagoyaki, and a roll for which the owner pointed out that the oil coming out of the nori is proof of good nori.

After finishing the meal, the head chef was so moved it was hard to breathe. They said this was the first restaurant Ryuji had ever recommended to them, and while there may have been moments along the way where they cried, they were truly moved. They said they were moved not only by the food, of course, but also by the many conversations with the owner. The head chef also said they'd like to come back with family, and the shoot ended with the owner promising to visit In next time. Reservations are accepted by phone or online, and the owner recommended booking online.