Omakase at Nobu — an exercise in humility

An exercise in humility

Many go to Nobu Restaurant for all the wrong reasons: to see and be seen, which is best done at one of the large, round tables downstairs in the One&Only Cape Town. But the best evenings can be had tucked away in the corner at the sushi bar. Speak the hallowed word “Omakase” and the ears of chef Nobuhisa Takahashi prick up, his eyes start to twinkle, and you will without a doubt receive the best the kitchen has to offer that evening.

Omakase means “It’s up to you”, and affords restaurateurs the chance to really show off their culinary skills. Many restaurants have special Omakase menus, but if you are in the company of Japanese sybarites you can count on the chef really going the extra mile. Omakase dining is therefore an exercise in humility. Once you give yourself over to the imagination of the cook there is no turning back. it is also not for the faint-hearted: you only know what you are eating once it appears on your plate, and you cannot request any dish, let alone refuse one, at the risk of being banned from the privilege of being served such masterpieces.

On recent visits Takahashi-san has delighted my guests and I with some spectacular delicacies — some from Nobu’s Omakase tasting menu, others from his own treasure trove — but one always stands out: Matsuhisa shrimp with caviar, shiso (perilla, which is Asian mint), ume (pickled plum) and shiitake mushroom.

Purists accuse Nobu often from straying too far from traditional Japanese cuisine, and it is true that one can easily detect the Peruvian influences that Nobu’s founder Nobuyki Matsuhisa infused in his signature dishes after having run a sushi bar in Peru. However, I think this fusion is a welcome one and gives an added twist to the meals.

Coming back to Cape Town: Takahashi-san can be trusted to dazzle you. His modesty belies an impressive track record. From an early age he has been infused with the intricacies of Japanese gastronomic hospitality. As a child he helped his mother in the kitchen of her izakaya (a Japanese-style tapas restaurant) in Kisarazu, Chiba Prefecture. She taught him the importance of “cooking from one’s heart” and instilled in him a lifelong passion for cooking and entertaining. He entered the profession more formally after high school in a local ryotei (a traditional, first-class restaurant) in his home town. From there, he worked his way up in Nobu, first as sushi chef in Tokyo and London, and since the opening of their Cape Town restaurant as a head sushi chef.

When next at Nobu at the One&Only, take some time observing how he lovingly cleans, slices, dices, chops, cuts and throws together ingredients into mouthwatering pieces of art, which you will be tempted to shoot with your cellphone. And please do ask about the dishes. In impeccable, but halting English he will explain to you, with the broadest smile possible, all there is to know about ‘Zuke Maguro’ (marinated tuna). Detecting in you a true connoisseur, he will try to impress you even more with off-menu courses from his izakaya days, like ‘Agedashi Tofu’ (deep fried tofu with tempura sauce) and ‘Ikura Oroshi’ (grated radish and marinated salmon eggs).

Omakase eating must be complemented by real sake. Contrary to popular belief, premium sake should ideally be drunk cold to ice cold. As with cognac, warming the beverage only serves to mask over impurities and lack of quality.

Fortunately, Nobu has an excellent selection, exclusively from the Hokusetsu brewery on Sade Island in Niigata Prefecture. Mr. Masuhisha has had a special relationship with this company since opening his eponymous restaurant in Beverly Hills in 1987.

The quality of premium sake is predominantly determined by the milling rate percentage, called ‘seimaibuai’ in Japanese. In essence, the less is left of the original rice kernel, the better the resulting sake after brewing.

Nobu offers a very respectable Junmai Daiginjo, which is Nobu’s private selection sake, and as a classification sits near the top of the sake pyramid. For added effect you can ask the sake to be served in a bamboo container and cups. Top of the range is the Cho Daiginjo YK 35. With 65% of the grain milled away, this silky sake has been compared to a milkshake because of its soft banana flavours. Merely wacky is the Ongakushu, which has been aged for 10 years to the sound of soothing music.

Nobu does not really have a rival in Egoli — it truly is in a class of its own. But Joburg fans of Japanese fine dining have been swearing by Japa for more than a decade. Husband and wife team Hajime and Maria Kikuchi started Japa as a ‘hole in the wall’, devoted to good, wholesome Japanese cooking in 1998, and after two successive moves to bigger premises, have since established themselves as the premier Japanese eatery in Sandton, mostly frequented by Japanese expats — always a good sign.

Tucked away on the second floor in the perpetually struggling Rivonia Village shopping centre, you have to be in the know to find it. But once you are there, probably as the only ‘gajin’ (Japanese for foreigner), leave the sushi and sashimi and go for some more adventurous food.

Start for example with ‘Maguro Natto’ (tuna sashimi with preserved soya beans), followed by ‘Shake Kama Yaki’ (grilled salmon head) and you will earn the respect of the chef and expats alike as they are quintessentially Japanese and of an acquired taste.

For mains try ‘Katsu Don’, a bowl of rice topped with deep fried crumbled pork loin with fried onions, shiitake mushrooms and egg, served with miso soup and pickles. A Japanese colleague who berated me for eating it in public because of its peasant’s provenance, secretly admitted it was one of his all-time favourite dishes. Or have ‘Zaru Soba’ (cold plain soba topped with dry seaweed) when you are looking for something lighter on a warm summer’s night.

Japa does serve premium sake, but getting a bottle requires perseverance. They are normally reserved for regulars and don’t appear on the menu. Keep asking, and one will eventually appear miraculously on your table. Remember to never pour for yourself, and you are in for a lovely meal. Kanpai!

(Originally written 2010)