There’s something very satisfying about consuming issues on sticks – all the things from the candyfloss I ate in my youth to lurid yellow curry fishballs I get pleasure from now.
It is usually one in all my favorite restaurant codecs in Japan. Whether or not it’s a kushiyaki or a yakitori joint, the absence of cutlery and the just about primal act of tearing meals off a skewer make it unimaginable for it to really feel something however convivial – irrespective of how expensive or extremely ranked the restaurant could also be.
I really like an excellent yakitori restaurant, sitting on the bar and being fed hot-off-the-grill alternatives, quietly marinating within the soundtrack of fats scorching on charcoal and the clinks of ice-cold beer glasses.
It’s a vibe that resonates with chef Yoshiteru Ikegawa, the founding father of Torishiki in Shinagawa, Tokyo, one in all Japan’s most difficult-to-book yakitori eating places.
“As a toddler, I keep in mind the scent of smoke from small neighbourhood stalls in Tokyo,” Ikegawa says of his early inspirations. “It wasn’t glamorous, nevertheless it had honesty. I watched how the chef moved, by no means losing movement, by no means speeding. That self-discipline, the quiet precision of fireplace, stayed with me.”