To open the evening
Silken tofu under a veil of dashi jelly, a single ume, a sip of warmed broth. A pause before the work begins.
There is one menu, and it changes with the morning market. What follows is the shape of an evening — a single arc from the first cool bite to the last whisk of tea. Read it slowly, the way it is served.
Seasonal · subject to the catch
Silken tofu under a veil of dashi jelly, a single ume, a sip of warmed broth. A pause before the work begins.
Marinated mackerel, a spoon of monkfish liver, seasonal vegetable dressed in white miso — to wake the palate.
Chosen at the market this morning, dressed only in citrus and a grain of sea salt. Nothing to hide behind.
Poured at the counter — a lacquered bowl, a single dumpling, the steam carrying yuzu and kombu.
The lean run begins. Aged tuna, gizzard shad cured in vinegar, squid scored to silk — each shaped to order, eaten in one breath.
The fatty heart of the meal. Marbled tuna seared at the edge, sea urchin laid over warm rice, a brush of nikiri to finish.
A fillet of the morning’s fish, grilled on white charcoal until the skin crackles, finished with grated daikon.
Simmered until it gives at a touch, glazed in its own reduction. The warm, sweet note before the meal turns.
A dense, faintly sweet omelette, folded layer over layer for an hour. By tradition, the measure of the house.
A single house-made sweet to the season, and a bowl of matcha whisked at the counter. The evening exhales.
A short list of sake, sourced by the same hand that sources the fish. The chef will pour to the course, or you may keep to tea.
Tell us when you reserve. We work around shellfish and most allergies, though the omakase is fish-led by nature.
Eat the nigiri the moment it is set down — rice is warm, the fish is cool, and the chef has timed the two to meet.