The Most Lavish Meal I’ve Ever Eaten - a 10-Course Kaiseki at Kojyu Ginza in Tokyo.

My brother and I hopped out of the taxi and onto the bright corridors of Ginza, an area of Tokyo with enough luxury brand stores to overwhelm even the most ostentatious of influencers. There were remnants of the snowstorm the night before, giving Tokyo, which I consider to be clean and orderly almost to the point approaching sterility, a more human feel. The slight build-up of snow and ice provided the city with imperfections that, in combination with my love for winter, made me feel a little more comfortable. 

I - the designated map bearer of the trip, phone constantly on low battery, quick to receive criticism for leaving the wrong subway exit, but embraced by silence if successfully navigating miles across one of the biggest metropolitan areas in the world, was searching for a very distinct telling sign that I was in the right location. I found the name of the restaurant in English before I found my desired target, 2 white stars with a red background, indicating the Michelin Guide’s rating of the food I was about to eat at Ginza Kojyu, one of the most celebrated kaiseki restaurants in Japan. 

I never ended up finding the stars. I see this as symbolic of the differences in culinary values held dear by those from Japan, and those who are not. I will dive into that in a completely separate post. Regardless, two Michelin stars is an incredible achievement, and I was incredibly excited for what was to come. 

Ginza Kojyu, as previously stated, is a kaiseki restaurant - a form of traditional Japanese cuisine with roots both in the humble tradition of monks and the lavish meals served to the aristocracy of old. The soon-to-be melted snow that lined the streets served as a fitting reminder of the emphasis Kaiseki puts on using the freshest ingredients available, and the impermanence and imperfections that the changing seasons can bring. Kaiseki is a multicourse meal following a set order of dishes. In modern Kaiseki, the total number of dishes served can vary greatly, but there is always a specific order of at least nine different courses.  

The influence that Kaiseki has had on modern fine dining cannot be understated, but it’s also difficult to track down. I’ve read many descriptions labeling Kaiseki as Japanese Haute Cuisine. That is an apt comparison in terms of the rhythm of the courses and emphasis on presentation and fresh ingredients, but it feels a bit disingenuous because the origins of Kaiseki span back centuries. Eater has a really interesting article on the intersection of Kaiseki and modern fine dining I encourage anyone to read.

I will try to take you through this meal, course by course. The only issue was, I couldn’t communicate with the chef or any of the servers. One of the servers spoke rudimentary English and could recite ingredients, but not the method in which they were prepared. They had a booklet prepared for English-speaking guests to explain what fish we were eating, but it didn’t provide me with any information other than the name. It was very fun guessing what I was eating, but I can’t guarantee that the way I describe these dishes is accurate. 

The first course, Saizuke: The Saizuke course is meant to stimulate the appetite and display the seasonality of the meal to come. We were greeted with a stunning array of 8 different delicately arranged bites which we were instructed to eat in a specific order. The first was an egg custard cooked in a yuzu peel with a fish I cannot name. Next was steamed abalone with vegetables, a decadent bite of grilled sardine, shrimp in an apple cider vinegar gelee with little bites of apples, and a skewer consisting of 3 different bites. I have no clue what the first one was. It was some fish wrapped in a clear sort of gel, the next was a bamboo shoot crusted in some sort of spice mix, and the last was a steamed oyster. 

Saizuke

After being shown two immense live snow crabs that we would consume later, we were brought the Nimono course, which is typically a simmered dish with meat or fish in broth. We were brought a dumpling sitting in a bath of dashi. It was explained to us that it consisted of white lotus, egg white, white puffer roe, and a shrimp dumpling. It was garnished with minuscule chunks of yuzu that I believe was pickled. I bit into the dumpling, full of white puffer roe and shrimp, and I can only compare the interior texture and flavor profile to that of crab rangoon. I am doing my best to refrain from making a crude joke about what I imagine the feeling explosion of white puffer roe in my mouth feels like, but maybe by using the continued theme of white stuff, you can figure it out.

white on white on white

The third course, mukozoke typically consists of sashimi - raw cuts of fish meat. We were given 3 to eat in order of lightest to richest. The first was white puffer with a dash of salt on a bed of tsuma - finely julienned daikon radish. The next was akakai - or arkshell/ red clam, with “miso and egg” which felt like a sort of spin on a hollandaise sauce. The final bite, and my personal favorite was yellowtail cooked sous vide in soy sauce and then lightly grilled. The smokiness imparted on it by the grill with the flavor bomb of all the soy sauce it had soaked in was delectable. 

3 types of sashimi

I whiffed on a photo of the next course - Hassun, which is unfortunate because I can’t show you that hassun literally means the tray the food is served on - always rectangular and 24cm long. We were given steamed snapper with green onion sauce. It looked like there were tiny pieces of broccoli on there as well. Accompanying it was tempura eel (eel is a favorite of mine), with pickled burdock root and what I believe was a rice vinegar gastrique. The only notes I wrote down for this one: “fucking gas.” I’ll take my word for it. 

The next dish in kaiseki dining is yakimono - a grilled fish or piece of meat. From my seat, I could see the grill master going to work during the previous courses. I was awestruck by the beauty of the literal plate this dish was served on, a stunning piece of Japanese pottery bisected into a light brown and a very dark grey. The chef at Ginza Kojyu named this restaurant after his late friend and japanese potter, Kojyu Nishioka. I believe he created most of the pottery these dishes were served on. On the right was a piece of wagyu deep fried, with a miso paste that became a crunchy crust to contrast the lavish and juicy interior. The second bite was grilled wagyu adorned with uni and egg roll sauce and a fried batter garnish. I love uni and wagyu. I am not sure they need to go together. It was almost excessive and felt like a “why not” kind of dish. I think it had too much richness in one bite, and made it difficult to concentrate on the quality of each ingredient.

Yakimono - and an amazing piece of pottery

Afterwards was futamono which I also forgot to photograph. Kichiji or rockfish, steamed in sake, garnished with negi, and a Kanu paste. Kabu was explained to me as the winter version of daikon. They showed us a photo of the rockfish they used. It was massive. 

I am not sure where the next few dishes fit in as part of the traditional course layout - but it was clear we had reached a crescendo with the wagyu.  We were given a raw leg of the recently sacrificed snow crabs they showed us earlier. They brought over a pot of simmering water and explained to us that we were going to cook the snow crab ourselves, shabu shabu style. To accompany the snow crab was a “crab miso” which was to my understanding, composed of crab roe and miso, and was there to dip the crab in. It was amazing.

Next was a dish they called “Sea Noodle.” Upon first glance, you might miss the Japanese needlefish disguising themselves amongst the soba noodles that sat in a Dashi with egg. It was a very fish-forward flavor, hence the name. 

The end of a Kaiseki is typically signaled by a rice dish accompanied by pickled vegetables. We were given a simple roll of rice wrapped in nori, with pickled kombucha strips flavored with sesame, and a pickled radish of sorts. 

Finally, the sweet portion. A beautiful ball of yuzu-flavored mochi rice stuffed with a marmalade bean paste was the first bite. The texture was fascinating, you could distinguish the rice kernels yet it was still chewy, and the bean paste inside added a subtle sweetness in contrast to the brightness of the yuzu. At the very end was one most beautiful dishes, a milk tea custard with matcha, strawberry, and gold leaf. The bright green and red with the shimmering specks of gold was amazing to behold, and it was a light, sweet, and fresh desert, a perfect way to end an incredible meal.

In total, I ate 22 different dishes throughout 10 courses. The continuous flow and beauty of everything laid out in front of me were something to behold. I savored every single bite and I won’t forget this meal, but would I recommend this restaurant? For the price of roughly ¥40000/ person, I can’t say a definite yes, unless you’ve tried versions of these dishes before and are familiar with the Japanese palate, which is simply very different than ours. Unless you are familiar with what normal versions of these dishes taste like, I find it possible you may not enjoy this as much as the price tag begs for.

I thought it was worth it, but that is because I have been eating variations of these dishes for the past 2 months. I could tell that the steamed egg custard - the first thing I ate - was better than any I’ve ever had by miles, but in complete honesty, I am not in love with a dish like that in general - and neither are many others who grew up eating completely different food.

There were a few examples of that throughout the meal. Take the bamboo shoot - a food I generally avoid. I think it tastes like bad breath and the texture is a bit unnerving. This bamboo shoot however shared none of those features. It goes to show the mastery of ingredients and flavors that chef Toru Okuda possesses, able to turn something I generally dislike into something enjoyable. However, I still can’t guarantee that the average person reading this would be able to recognize that, and they might walk away a bit dismayed they spent so much money. Maybe I’m just letting my brother Miles get to me. 

Having said that, I want to reiterate just how amazing this food was. The venue was stunning, the lacquerware was exquisite, the service was incredible despite a language barrier, and the presentation and arrangement of so many dishes was precise and perfect. It’s Japanese food in its highest form. 

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