The feasibility of the imminent entry of Michelin Guide (The Red) for Israel, arouses a certain excitement among chefs and the public. It is interesting to find out what Michelin has done in a country like Japan, which is one of the most impressive gastronomic powers in the world. Israel, to be honest, is very far from Japan in this area as well, and compared to a handful of restaurants that will receive one star here, in Japan hundreds of restaurants are currently decorated with *, ** and *** stars. In Japan, food is a religion, states Boaz Tsairi, an expert in Japanese knowledge in Israel. Here, on the other hand, people usually “open a table” and are satisfied.
Michelin is spread across many cities in Japan. For the purposes of my book “Hungry in Tokyo,” I naturally focused on the capital. In Tokyo, Michelin both “tidyed up” at the top and severely punished chefs of all ranks and above: something like this has never happened in France.
Michelin Tokyo
The Michelin Red Tokyo was first published in 2008, and the 2023 guide is its fifteenth edition. Many consider 2008 to be the beginning of a new era, the introduction of a fairly Western-style French order in the restaurants of the giant city, which has 130,000 restaurants, according to French chef Olivier Audoux. For comparison, France as a whole has about 175,000 eateries.
Starred restaurants – about 6% of the number of starred restaurants in Tokyo.
In my book, 50 restaurants and eateries, 0.0004% of Tokyo restaurants.
Of these, 13 are starred, for a total of 25 Michelin stars.
I aimed high.
Restaurants in Tokyo are very, very expensive – or very, very cheap. From 40000 yen (the yen was 9 dollars per 1,000 yen, and during the Corona pandemic it dropped to just under 8 per 1000) and up to 1000 yen and less. I ate at both ends, and also in restaurants in the middle of the scale. (See Chapter 33, "Tokyo's Cheapest").
I realized that Tokyo has a very high number of starred restaurants. Why? Because of the chefs' extreme strictness? After all, Michelin's criteria are practically the same everywhere. Who awards them? Inspectors from France? Who are the people who deal with the unimaginable number of restaurants, which at every price point contain culinary gems? Well, as far as I know, they are Japanese.
Do you know who they are?France, the joke among chefs is that when you see two men in gray suits come to a restaurant and order the flagship dishes listed in the guide, you “know” they are from Michelin. Then, chefs call each other and warn – “Michelin in town.” And in Tokyo? The Japanese restaurant critic, who appears in a film about legendary sushi chef Jiro Ono, who will be 98 in 2023, notes that when the Michelin people come to the restaurant, Jiro lets his eldest son Yoshikazu prepare the meal for them… recognized, that is. At least there.
In fact, the number of starred restaurants in Tokyo is lower than expected. As of 2019, Michelin had awarded stars to only 230 of the city's restaurants. Less than 2 per thousand. By 2023, only 200 restaurants will be starred.
בParis In total, there are more than 17,000 restaurants (for comparison, only in the Minato district of Tokyo there are 12,000) – of which 104 are starred, 6.5 per mille. If the ratio that exists in Paris were applied to Tokyo, there would be about 490 starred restaurants. And in Tokyo there is no shortage of excellent restaurants, and more than once you eat at a restaurant (Sora, for example) and are surprised in retrospect that it is not starred. Odos, then owner of a Michelin *, wondered to me: “Is the guide limiting the number of stars in Tokyo in order to remain relevant? If so, there is a lot of injustice in this.” If that is indeed the case, I certainly agree with him. In addition, 2023 bib gourmands (good, cheap, good value for money) are recommended in 222.
בParis, thousands of fast food restaurants are not inspected at all. In Tokyo, however, ramen and soba restaurants, which are not fast food but are definitely basic, are inspected, and four or five have received a star! Among them are Okina Soshian, Tsuta ramen, and Nakiryu. There are more. I tried to get a seat at Tsuta through the hotel concierge. It turns out that you have to go there at seven in the morning, buy a ticket for 1000 yen, and show up at the exact time specified on the ticket! A testament to the immediate effect of a Michelin star on consumer consciousness. No, thank you, I won't stand in line at dawn. In Paris, I have known a Cambodian family restaurant for thirty years, which serves Pho, a Vietnamese soup, excellent and cheap. It's called Song Heng. There's a long line outside, and people get in as soon as a seat becomes available. Maybe it deserves a star too. Did Michelin even visit it?
The statistics below don't change much from year to year. There were no closures in Japan, but with the absence of tourists, restaurant activity was lower than in normal years. Several starred restaurants lost a star due to limited operations.
Starred in Tokyo: In 2023, 12 *** restaurants, 4 of which are French and one Chinese. In Paris, 10 ***, all of which are French. In Tokyo, 39 ** restaurants, 11 of which are French. In Paris, 2023, only 14 have **, one of which is Japanese. In 2023, in Tokyo, 149 *, of which 37 are French, 10 Chinese, 10 Italian and 2 Spanish, a total of 59 foreigners. In Paris, 102 * – including only 8 restaurants of foreign cuisine, including 5 Japanese. Several more talented Japanese chefs, who cook creative French food, and a Japanese pastry chef has opened a patisserie of Japanese-style cakes.
In Paris, French cuisine is the star without foreign competition. In Tokyo, Michelin-starred restaurants represent 2023 types of cuisine in 32! And French cuisine occupies an important place at the top: in Tokyo, there were 2023 starred French restaurants in 52, a total of 82 stars! Which shows the enormous influence of French gastronomy in Japan – and also its quality when it is skillfully exported to a country that is so rich in wonderful raw materials. France considers the Japanese audience to be such a connoisseur of taste that it has an “ambassador” in Tokyo, a Japanese one, by the way, of French gastronomy.
I have not tried or succeeded in achieving the existing superlative level in all types of cuisine. In many types of cuisine there are no starred restaurants, and if they do, such as in yakitori, sukiyaki and ramen, one star. In each type of cuisine there are restaurants that are much better than others, and charge prices accordingly. But a truly superlative level exists, according to Michelin, only in kaiseki cuisine (Japanese cuisine, in the guide's comprehensive definition, and essentially delicious meals according to rules and traditions that are understandable to the Japanese and not to foreigners), and sushi. As for **, tempura, a vegan monk's kitchen, and one fugu restaurant. As for the giant Hokkaido crab and other crustaceans unique to Japan, as well as soft-shelled turtles, several restaurants serve them at high prices.
There are people who have lived in Japan for years or have visited it many times and are familiar with all types of Japanese cuisine, and have never entered very expensive top restaurants – especially those that are not welcoming to people they don't know, and who brazenly pretend to try to book a table or a seat at the counter. Some claim that they can't distinguish the subtleties of sushi flavors, so why spend tens of thousands of yen on a meal? But during my first sushi meal at a top sushi restaurant, at Takashi Ono, the youngest son of Jiro, ** in Michelin, I realized that this was not true, as far as I was concerned. Later, I accurately distinguished what was excellent and what was not, and as a result, I was also invited to disappointments – but relative ones, because everything was good to excellent. I recommend starting low and gradually rising to the top. But the saga of reservations doesn't always allow this. You go up and down and back again.
What is the value of the late Joel Robichon's statement that Saito Sushi is the best in Tokyo? After all, there are other excellent sushi restaurants in Tokyo, with prices ranging from *** to **, and every diner swears by their favorite sushi restaurant (me, by Takashi Ono, but also by Yoshitaka)... And how many of us are endowed with a palate capable of discerning the subtleties of flavors at the very top?
How do you score sushi compared to French cuisine? How much do you “weigh” a *** Michelin star in this and that? Odos claims that the quality of service at a *** sushi restaurant does not justify the score. Neither does the aesthetics of the place. In this respect, he is right. Can a sushi restaurant and a gastronomic restaurant be scored according to the same criteria? In my opinion, yes. The quality of the food determines the number of stars. Everything else, elegance, design, service, is expressed in forks, black or red.
But looking at Tokyo's gastronomy through the lens of Michelin stars is not necessarily right for everyone. First, it is not clear how important this is to Japanese diners and self-respecting chefs, who are unwilling to allow diners who are not regular customers to make reservations. And perhaps it is important to some. And to some of the Japanese connoisseurs, too. For example, the attack on popular ramen restaurants since they won a Michelin star. And on a yakitori restaurant that won a star: within a day, everything was booked a month or two in advance.
Michelin “builds muscle”
The 2020 guide, published in November 2019, was revolutionary: it removed the famous Jiro Ono and Sushi Saito from the guide, with their three stars. Because without the right connections, it is impossible to get a seat at the counter. The Michelin people were also unsuccessful, and as a result, they were unable to inspect the two restaurants. But Jiro is an internationally renowned icon, and removing him from the guide and revoking his three stars requires a certain amount of courage.
A quote from the restaurant's website raises the question of who the lucky ones are, with the following words: "If you enjoyed the Giraud experience, come back. Every visit promises new discoveries."
A renowned French chef, with 3 Michelin stars, who I ate with in late 2019, told me that in Tokyo he ate at “a sushi restaurant in the subway station” (where Giraud restaurant is indeed located), and he didn’t like either the attitude or the food. But Giraud is more than a sushi restaurant. It is a historical monument. Like The Eiffel Tower In Paris. In my opinion, you should try to eat at his place. Don't give up. In France, we didn't give up on the corresponding monument, the late Paul Bocuse. I began my "apprenticeship" in French haute cuisine at Bocuse. And it was an excellent start. But I have no chance of eating at Giraud's.
The Saito Sushi “Affair”
The Saito “affair” was unpleasant from beginning to end – except for the food itself, which is the main thing. This is the only chapter in the book that I did not write out of deep joy. It demonstrates why Michelin “kicked” Takashi Saito and Jiro Ono out of the guide.
At the beginning, on the first list of restaurants I made, which later became "democratic" and, above all, much more diverse, I asked the hotel to get me a place at Saito Sushi and Kaiseki, one of the best in Tokyo, Matsukawa.
I don't particularly consider restaurant ratings on TripAdvisor, which are an average of many reviews. This is because restaurants are generally rated 4.2-4.3. Due to the laws of statistics or large numbers, I don't know, the average rating of many people with different tastes, different budgets, different levels of understanding, different levels of expectations, and countless other variables does not distinguish between levels and degrees. This also applies to hotels. A luxury hotel and a 3-star hotel can both receive 4.4, even though they are completely different products and target different audiences. It is interesting to read reviews. Even more interesting is the distribution of reviews from excellent to poor. If a restaurant also "earned" a significant percentage of negative reviews, I interpret this as a tendency for inconsistency in quality. But if a restaurant achieved an average score of 4.7, for example, which is rare, from many reviewers, there is no doubt that it is above the "standard" of 4.3-4.4. The same goes for the opposite case, 4 and less.
This was checked for several top restaurants in Tokyo before the trip. For example, there were no negative reviews for Saito. They noted the reasonable price, relative to comparable restaurants, and even said that it was higher than Jiro. And that it was very difficult to get a seat. And in addition, Robichon stated that Saito is the best sushi in the world. There is no doubt that you don't want to give up on a place like that. As for Matsukawa, there is not a single negative review there either, but the number of reviews is small, perhaps due to the enormous difficulty in getting a seat.
I asked the hotel staff to get me a place. Here's what they told me (emphasis mine):
We are so afraid to explain the truth of those restaurants. Sushi Saito and Matsukawa have a very strict policy to take reservations among their regular customers only.
The answer was incomprehensible: After all, a restaurant is not a closed members' club! It operates in a market where there is supply and demand. I am part of the demand. I tried a workaround. I asked if they could request an interview between lunch and dinner. Here is the answer:
Finally, we got in touch with Sushi Saito and Matsukawa. Unfortunately, both of them do not accept reservations and even interviews only.
Such a rejection is inconceivable to me. I toyed with the idea of approaching Robichon for a moment. And Robichon just passed away… I didn’t know he was so ill. A very unfortunate event. Robichon owned more Michelin *** restaurants in the world than any other chef, and there is no doubt that he is among a handful of geniuses. I will never forget the experience of eating at his first restaurant, Jamin, in Paris. And the time I spent with him in the kitchen. But unlike other top chefs, I did not develop a bad relationship with him that would have allowed such a request.
I turned to the chef of the Pierre Gannier restaurant in Tokyo, Yosuke Akasaka. After all, ** in Michelin… but he doesn’t have the right connections.
Jonathan Tsairi wrote to me, saying that he would try to find out about the possibility of booking a place for Saito, “even though there are many other good sushi restaurants in Tokyo that are no less good than him. Usually everyone here has a different opinion about what the most delicious sushi is in Japan.” Indeed, indirectly, Jonathan contributed to obtaining the invitation for Saito, by connecting me with the French chef Olivier Oddos for an interview.
I wrote to Odus: I would like to hear your opinion on the following matter: Saito is unwilling to accept reservations from people who have not yet eaten at his place. I intend to approach him with an interpreter and present to him the question that logically troubles me: “What should I do to eat at his place for the first time so that I can make a reservation later?” Will it be done? Will it not be done? He replied: Saito has many customers, few places, and they are booked a year in advance. I will try to get you a reservation for lunch or dinner and let you know.
And indeed, a few days later, he announced that he had secured a couple of seats for me for dinner on October 5, through a regular client of his and Saito's. But that evening I had a reservation at Kujio's. I asked if it was possible to change the date. No. Only known clients can reserve a seat, and the opportunity is exceptional. If she is rejected, he cannot ask the client to contact him again.
A Japanese paradox: on the one hand, everything is booked a year in advance, and on the other hand, he gets a couple of places in two days!
I understood the importance of the hour. I turned to the hotel staff and asked them to postpone Kojiu to a free evening. It was not easy, it required complicated negotiations, but it worked. Kojiu expressed their anger at me by not allowing me even a single minute of delay… I informed Odus that I would come, but alone. He would accompany me, he wrote, because the order was for two and no seat was left empty… What’s more, he had never dined there before. The meal was at 1800, not later, and the order was in the name of Mrs. Koroiwa Ryuko. I thanked him (and, in my heart) from the bottom of my heart.
With God's help
And so, a few minutes before six in the evening, I stand before the entrance to Takashi Saito's temple, then one of the three sushi restaurants in Tokyo with a *** rating. Excitement is evident in the handful of people waiting. The door opens. We enter. A young gatekeeper does not let me in because I do not remember the "password": the name of the customer whose order is in her name. Olivier comes out to meet me and allows me to enter. I join him in the small room, with a counter for eight, which fills up in the blink of an eye and the meal begins. But the chef before us is not Saito.
The serving method is different than at Takashi Ono. There, the sushi is placed in front of you on a fixed rectangular plate, and here, each piece of sushi or sashimi is placed in front of the diner on a plate decorated with animal drawings. The beautiful plates are changed from dish to dish. Olivier Bier explained and translated, and his vast knowledge greatly enriched the experience. That's how I learned that Saito also closed for a few days when the fish market moved.
The first course is shiromi – a generic name for any sushi whose top is seasonal white fish. The second course: ormeau, foie et pieuvre. Pieces of abalone in abalone liver sauce, and pieces of octopus. The third course is bonito. Wonderful. The fourth course, kue – a giant sea bass whose meat is stringy after being caught, so it is aged for several days in the refrigerator. The fifth course is crab whose meat is broken up and served on a sauce. The sixth course: Taicho nagaimou daikon – fish with daikon. Wonderful dish, served warm. The seventh course is a type of sole. The eighth course – a type of mackerel. The ninth course is kohada, gizzard shad - in French, alose noyer in English.
It's been exactly an hour. We're about halfway there. And we still haven't seen Saito. There's probably another room where he serves in the sanctuary. Odus and I think something's wrong here.
We moved on to the sacred grove of maguro, red tuna. The first, hakami, is lean red tuna meat. It's a little spicy, but what a great quality. The second, chu toro, is fattier and more aged, and the third, ho toro, the fattiest part, is wonderful.
And from there we move on to calamari with fleur de sel and a non-aggressive Japanese lemon. The 14th course in a row is shrimp, which in the water is round, and on the plate, cooked, straight. The 15th course is aji, mackerel, one of the highlights of the meal, with a delightful oily touch.
The icura roll, Eilat eggs, is wonderful. The 17th course is uni, sea urchin, with rice, also wonderful. Following the urchins is anago, a seawater eel, which is served in sushi as part of the sequence – this is in contrast to unagi, a freshwater eel, which many restaurants specialize in. Odos notes that it is congre, from the eel family, a large and heavy sea snake. The congre is served hot, in a fine sauce, it is wonderful and soft as butter. Another one of the peaks of the meal, which is nearing its end.
The smiling cook who has been working in front of us for an hour and a half is preparing a roll filled with all sorts of goodies with sesame oil. The omelette cake, tamago yaki, is the twentieth dish, and all that remains is to eat the rich soup and sip the tea, thank the wonderful shokunin who spoiled us for two hours, whose name, by the way, is hashiba, as indicated in Japanese on his apron, pay and leave. Eight wonderful dishes out of twenty. And the rest is good too.
But Odus and I are not satisfied. What a strange feeling it is to get seats with a great chef, about whom the late Robichon said what he said, and not see the smile on his face!
We ask for Saito to be called. He comes right away. He pulls back a curtain and there he is. I pull out a tape, Saito giggles at the sight of the tape recorder. I ask, a little angrily, and Odus translates. Saito says that Ashiba has been working with him for 13 years, they go to the fish market together every morning, they decide on the recipes for the daily menu together. I trust him completely, says Saito.
And rightly so. He is excellent. But the problem is not in quality but in transparency. If Hashiba had his own restaurant, he would probably receive a ** in Michelin, and we would go eat at Hashiba on his own merit. I sharpen the question, is the quality equal in both restaurants. It is unpleasant to translate for Odos. A Japanese diner equipped with a professional camera volunteers to ask the difficult question. Saito explains that this room belongs to Hashiba, and it is actually another restaurant next to his restaurant in the other room, which is the main one – and that way he can make more customers happy. I asked why he didn't come in to greet us, his customers. He replied that doing so would damage Hashiba's security and reputation. What consideration!
I asked the question that had been bothering me since the hotel failed in its attempts to book me a place: How can someone who has never eaten there get a place at the counter? His answer was that it's not like that, you can book every month for the next month. Really. Good luck to you.
The chef and his assistant take a picture together, and Saito apologizes: the diners for the 20.30:4 p.m. round are starting to arrive, and he has to leave or join them. He spent XNUMX minutes with me, most of which were translations of the questions and answers. The shortest interview I've ever done...
I ask Odus what he thinks. After all, there was a possibility that they would put us in the other room, and then we wouldn't know anything. And pay the same price.
Olivier: If we hadn't seen the chefs, if they hadn't worked in front of us but in the kitchen, would that have had any impact on our meal? No. The quality of the products and the dishes is the main thing. In France, when you go to eat in top restaurants, sous chefs prepare the dishes. So why not in Japan? It's true that you feel a certain disappointment that the chef himself didn't prepare the food for us in front of you. But judging by the result, the products are of very high quality, everything is very fresh, work was put into each product, the serving temperature was correct, and the quantity wasn't bad either. What we ate included some wonderful things and some ordinary things. Overall, it was a great meal, and the value for money, in terms of the Japanese market, is good. As for the score, I'm not qualified to award Michelin stars. My familiarity and experience with Japanese cuisine don't allow me to determine whether it's worth *, **, or ***. I've had several excellent meals in non-starred sushi restaurants. Additionally, it is wrong to try to compare French *** restaurants to Japanese restaurants with the same score. The approach is completely different. The differences are evident in the table setting, in the time allotted for enjoying the food, so many things are different that it is very difficult to compare. But we had a good meal, the attitude was cordial and the service was discreet, so yes, it was a beautiful evening. And the price is one of the reasons it is very difficult to get a reservation.
Me: Takashi Ono's restaurant, where I dined for my birthday a few days ago, was my first experience ever with very high-quality sushi. There, almost the entire range was excellent, with some very high peaks. Plus, we didn't end up eating tonight. in Saito, maybe his tour de main, his sleight of hand, is more perfect, after all, he got *** and not Hashiba! There's no telling what we lost, if anything.
I have had excellent meals at top restaurants in France in the absence of the chef. If there had been two sous chefs working in both rooms, and Saito had been moving between the rooms like a groom, I would not have had any complaints. In terms of commercial integrity, one must first be transparent. Inform when ordering which room one is in. After all, the restaurant with its two rooms is called Saito Sushi, and the room we ate in is not Hashiba Sushi. The most elegant solution, as far as I am concerned, is for the chefs to switch places at the end of the first part of the meal, before the tuna course. That way, everyone leaves happy.
I have no idea how and when they decide where each customer will sit. I don't think they write notes, put them in a hat, and pull them out. There's probably a key, based on how familiar the diner is. After all, this is a restaurant that supposedly only accepts customers who have already dined there! Open to insults.
As we waited briefly at the restaurant's entrance, I chatted with a couple from Hong Kong who were also waiting. We exchanged business cards, of course, and in the following days we corresponded: we exchanged recommendations. They were with us in Hashiba's room. I was so focused on the food that I didn't notice. Vinci, that's her name, and she and her husband are quintessential foodies, wrote to me that the meal at Saito's was wonderful. I drew her attention to Saito's presence in another room. She wasn't aware of it.
Overall, an excellent meal. There were fewer "wow!"s from me than from Takashi Ono and Yoshitaka, but the gap in quality between the three is not noticeable.
Since 2019, the “punished” Saito has no stars. Does this bother him? I don’t know. It seems to me that in the current situation, it is easier for him. The “customers’ club” probably fills the restaurant’s two rooms every day. What’s more, during the Corona years, there were no tourists in Tokyo, and the restaurant relied only on its regular customers. Today, perhaps the pressure from “foreigners” to get a seat will begin again. And they will be turned away because they are not needed.
Today, four years later, I see the action taken by Michelin a little differently: Maybe it didn't "punish" the two restaurants, it just confirmed that they operate as closed customer clubs and not as regular restaurants, and therefore there's no point in checking them. This applies mainly to Saito. Because Giraud, if a government institution approaches him, finds a place for his guests. For example, for President Obama, or for my friend the famous chef from France.