“Last evening at Kyōten was enchanted.”
Last evening at Kyōten was enchanted. The bar seats eight people. And there is only a single seating per night at 6:30. The base price on a Friday/weekend is $490 + tax, and my bill was $557 with one delicious sake.
Chef Otto Phan is Vietnamese-American, and he’s obsessed with Japanese ingredients and flavors. He doesn’t do anything that steps afoul of Japanese traditions, but he’s also not constrained by them. Phan is a wunderkind with close relationships built with mentors and purveyors in Tokyo, who he visits twice annually and texts daily. Like an investor on the phone with a trader on the exchange floor, the fish traders on the floor of Tokyo’s bustling fish markets text Phan daily updates about what looks extraordinary, and so Phan’s menu is seasonal, based on the market’s best daily offering, and features only wild-caught fish. This, and the fact that Phan personally prepares every bite dispelled my concern that the cost of dinner was gratuitous. After dining and understanding the premium Phan pays for his ingredients, the cost makes sense.
Everything tasted delicious. There was one course I couldn’t eat, monkfish liver, but I did have the slightest nibble and it was buttery, mild, and delicious, and I loved its ginger teriyaki bath. As a wildlife disease epidemiology researcher, I’m essentially a parasitologist. And once I interact with a research specimen in the field, my ability to eat a clean version of that thing raw in the future is done. It’s why raw proteins are nearly impossible for me in general. I put my rules and prejudices aside and ate course after course of Phan’s transportingly delicious fish painted with sauces, glistening, sliced, pinched, sometimes packed over delicious rice, and often concealing a poultice of wasabi, citrus zest, horseradish, ginger, or other complementary aromatics taking each bite to the next level. Some courses I enjoyed with my eyes closed to focus on the flavors, not caring that I may have looked weird. The two tempura courses, lobster with its roe, and beltfish, were my favorites.
Another protein that I generally don’t enjoy raw is beef. Phan’s wagyu nigiri looks extremely rare, but it spends four hours in the sous vide and its fats and juices melt in your mouth. My enjoyment of this wagyu was in contrast to wagyu I was served last week at a different restaurant’s tasting menu where a nearly fist-sized rose-shaped wad of too much wagyu to serve in one bite made me channel my inner Khaleesi as I imagined myself as Daenerys Targaryen trying to choke down a whole horse heart. Phan’s wagyu course, like all of his courses, I truly enjoyed.
Phan is an artist, and watching his passion and giftedness was thrilling. His hands squeezing the rice or shaping the fish and the gleam in his eyes made me think of the Japanese aesthetic principle of wabi-sabi, which embraces imperfection, transience, and connection to nature. Here is this beautiful young chef in his absolute prime, with extraordinary fish that he instructs you to eat the moment he places it on your plate not waiting for the diner next to you to receive theirs, and we’re tasting the fruits of our oceans, which are in a race against time both literally with a short window on their peak freshness, and also figuratively as our oceans are warming.
I fell in love last night.
