Sachi-an
Sachi-an, the only Michelin three-star establishment in the Kanagawa area, where Daisuke Maeba, the former sous chef at Kookorowa and later the head chef of Shokuyoku Kaiseki in Shenzhen, once worked.
My specific journey to Kanagawa was to enhance my understanding of this style of kaiseki, as comparing it with the two aforementioned restaurants. Although Fujisawa itself isn't particularly special, it's just a short drive from Kamakura, making it convenient for a scenic trip.
Booking at Sachi-an wasn't difficult; a phone call a day or two in advance was sufficient to secure a reservation.
Upon my arrival that evening, apart from myself, there was only a local couple at the counter, regular patrons by the looks of it. Despite its three stars, the restaurant's prices are quite modest, starting at less than 10,000 yen for a lunch kaiseki and barely over 15,000 yen for dinner. I opted for the chef's selected menu, the priciest option at around 30,000 yen.
The meal left me with a sense of déjà vu, reminiscent of Shokuyoku Kaiseki in Shenzhen, particularly the dashi broth, which was strikingly identical. Chef Maeba has mastered his craft well; even the main branch in Fujisawa didn't seem to offer any refinements in taste.
Back to the restaurant experience: starting with a bowl of brown rice soup, slightly salty. Tea pairing was offered, including hojicha and sencha served in wine glasses, a Western presentation that felt a bit out of place. I wouldn't recommend it, as the tea was mediocre.
Under an amusingly helmet-like ornament hid the appetizer, which I have completely forgotten.
For the wanmono, we had sea bream with a tofu-like texture, paired with citrus peel, a light and classic dashi, made in a kudzu style—a bland beginning.
The owan was followed by akagai and squid sashimi with a bit of fish skin and ferns. The bowl was interesting, reminiscent of a child's collection from a seaside rock pool, served with wasabi, plum sauce, and soy sauce.
The yakimono course featured a lightly sake-flamed amadai, topped with hanazansho. This type of peppercorn, also a common sight at Shokuyoku Kaiseki, offers a more refined numbness than Sichuan pepper, suitable for delicately flavored but rich fish.
Hassun introduced a slice of beef pickled in rice malt, abalone with abalone liver sauce, beancurd topped with sea urchin, fermented tofu mixed with avocado and shellfish sashimi, and a sticky snack of mullet roe and rice cake.
For the takiawase, clams were stewed with bamboo shoots. The first broth used in wanmono was followed by a stronger second broth for the takiawase, made with an abundant amount of bonito flakes to complement the bold clam flavor.
The shokuji was a bowl of tender ginger rice heaped with small silverfish, complemented by pickled cucumber, mustard greens, and eggplant. The silverfish's texture is similar to crab meat, making it a fitting pairing with the ginger, perhaps because the cooling nature of the fish and the warming properties of the ginger make for a healthier combination.
The chagashi was a yokan split into chestnut and mugwort flavors, smeared with red bean paste.
For the mizugashi, there was mango, cantaloupe, and a scoop of pistachio ice cream.
If you have visited Shokuyoku Kaiseki with Chef Maeba at the helm, you might find numerous similarities between the two establishments. Hence, there's no real need to make a special trip to the Fujisawa main branch.
Although more affordable, the portion sizes at the main branch were quite small; after the meal, I felt almost as if I hadn't eaten at all. Having visited Tokyo's most famous kaiseki restaurants, including the Michelin three-star Ryugin, the downgraded Ginza Kojyu, and the Tabelog Gold Award-winning Shinohara, I must confess that I've never quite grasped the essence of kaiseki. Kaiseki in China may start at a steep 2,000 yuan, but the dishes are generally more palatable to Chinese tastes, the portions are significant, and there are no language barriers—I'm more than willing to pay that premium.
The ability to communicate without barriers, whether staying in a hotel or dining in a fine restaurant, is worth at least a thousand yuan.
At Sachi-an, not a single staff member spoke English. However, I had a brief chat with the local middle-aged couple seated at the counter. The gentleman asked how I discovered the restaurant, prompting me to boast a bit about "one of mainland China's finest k
aiseki chefs used to be the sous chef here."
The proprietress was visibly thrilled by the conversation. Perhaps my only contribution to the meal was bolstering Chef Maeba's reputation at his former workplace. As I left, I did so quietly, without fanfare, adding another layer to his renown.
If you find yourself in Tokyo, consider visiting Naoto.K. While the cuisine may not be stunning, it's quite enjoyable and heartfelt. The restaurant's casual appearance belies its adherence to the standards of fine dining. The restroom is on the first floor; a staff member will guide you there the first time, and they'll be waiting by the elevator when you return. At one point, I asked for a clean pair of chopsticks, and thereafter, the staff remembered to offer replacements regularly.
