“I think it was down this alley,” my dad says.
“How can you tell?” My mom implores. “They all look the same.”
We are making our way through a narrow cobblestone alley built for barely three people and sandwiched by little two-story shops with sliding doors and no windows. A couple of shops display signs, but only in Japanese. In front of us, three tourists in kimonos — I remember seeing kimono rental shops nearby — hobble away, the clacking sound from their clogs creating an echo. Once they disappear around a corner, utter silence.
Photo: Dana Ter, Taipei Times
Our trip to Kyoto thus far had fluctuated between finding ourselves among endless hordes of visitors at major tourist sites — the Golden Pavilion, Arashiyama Bamboo Grove and Fushimi Inari Shrine — and ending up in alleys that seemed virtually uninhabited. But we were on a mission: Find this one Michelin star restaurant with a small yellow door.
My parents had dined at Gion Nanba last year. Earlier that day, they boasted about how they were going to treat me to a delicious “kabuki” dinner — kabuki is Japanese theater, I insisted. Later, I found out that they meant kaiseki, a traditional multi-course meal emphasizing presentation as much as flavor and prepped by fresh, seasonal ingredients.
Today, kaiseki has become somewhat synonymous with fine dining, and restaurants like Gion Nanba seek to recreate life in the ancient capital — nearby Yasaka Shrine was built in the 7th century — a time when the best establishments were tucked away and known only to a few regular patrons. Luckily, we had TripAdvisor and Google Maps and found the restaurant just in time for our reservation.
Photo: Dana Ter, Taipei Times
BEHIND THE YELLOW DOOR
Gion is known as Kyoto’s “geisha district” for its many ochaya or tea houses where modern-day geishas entertain by singing and dancing. Its cobblestone streets and mysterious hideaways also inspired the historical novel, Memoirs of a Geisha. The Shirakawa River bisects old Gion from the newer part, where streets are wider and lined by multi-story department stores.
Traveling with my parents, however, 75 percent of our trip consisted of eating. A kimono-clad lady greets us and apologizes profusely that the coveted seats by the counter where my parents had sat in December and watched chef Osamu Nanba chop sashimi were unavailable. We reassure her that it’s no problem as we had only made the reservation two days in advance and she ushers us up a narrow staircase to a three-table dining area with marble tabletops and antique chairs with emerald-green cushions.
Photo: Dana Ter, Taipei Times
The menu is different each night, changing according to what the chef finds at market that day. Our waitress patiently explains each course to us. Our eight-course meal is fish-heavy — eel, barramundi, mackerel and snapper. Each tiny sliver of fish is delightfully seared around the edges. We also sample bonito sashimi with sauce made with orange vinegar, radish and green onions and topped with spicy chrysanthemum petals. It’s heavenly. I doubt I’ll be able to enjoy a salmon sashimi dipped in wasabi and soya sauce again.
Each dish, from the raw eggplant to the mountain potatoes, is fine and delicate and presentation is just as immaculate. My favorite is undeniably dessert: fig ice cream and pear with white wine jelly and topped with pomegranate. The blue-and-white ceramic dinnerware is a lovely touch. At the table next to us, a couple are making a toast with sake in porcelain vases.
As we leave, we hear a creaking noise and look back to see chef Nanba awkwardly climbing out from the small yellow door.
Photos: Dana Ter, Taipei Times
“Sorry, Jordan-san, we couldn’t offer you the seats at the counter this time,” he apologizes to my dad.
We reassure him, again, that it’s really no problem at all, that it was a top-notch dining experience for the books. They spend the next five minutes bowing to each other, then we slip back into the narrow alley.
TO MARKET
Photo: Dana Ter, Taipei Times
Across the river is the 400-year-old Nishiki Market. Extending only 400m, stalls sell pickled veggies, tofu donuts and grilled fish on skewers. Food is displayed neatly and orderly in rows — some stalls wrap their food in small, airtight bags. We weave in and out of the crowd, stopping every now and then to figure out what some of the snacks are — a sign next to what appears to be skewered meat reads: “sparrow.” To make clear, it is accompanied by a picture of a sparrow perched on a branch.
We aren’t looking for snacks but for a tonkatsu restaurant. Katsukura was recommended to us by the owner of a pottery shop when we discovered that the tonkatsu place my parents had dined at last time was closed for renovations. Eventually, we find the restaurant by wandering into a narrow wooden walkway lined with bamboo. It leads us to a small outdoor space with much foliage. There, we spot the entrance to Katsukura. Inside is dimly lit, modern and spacious.
After a slight faux pas — pouring the tonkatsu sauce in the bowls without first grinding the sesame — we proceed to try the deep-fried pork cutlets. The skin of the cutlet is beautifully crunchy, the meat tender and chewy. The sauce, made with red wine, apples and dates, provides a natural sweetness, while the barley rice adds aroma.
COME ONCE, COME AGAIN
In another quiet alley by Shirakawa River is Yagenbori Sueyoshicho. Also a kaiseki restaurant, Yagenbori is housed in a 130-year-old tea house where geishas once entertained guests. The three-story establishment with bamboo blinds is a little easier to find that Gion Nanba and Katuskura.
We’re shown to our seats, which consists of a floor dining table furnished with tatami mats, by another kimono-clad waitress. Noticing me looking at their coasters, napkins and paintings — humorous sketches of daily life in Japan — the waitress explains they were the work of the late American printmaking artist Clifton Karhu, who spent most of his adult life in Kyoto. The painting framed above is of a man running away with crops from a farm. The caption reads: “Steal one and run away, more than one and you’ll have to pay.”
Each dish is understated and elegant, served in delicate chinaware and earthenware pots. The texture of the egg custard appetizer is silken, the taste pleasantly savory. Other favorites are the rice with clams and a side of miso soup and the steaming tofu stew, and not to mention the scoop of matcha ice cream for dessert.
Before we leave, the waitress hands me a couple of coasters as a gift. One of the sketches is of a barefooted old man in a robe hobbling away, cane in one hand, bento box in another with the accompanying saying: “If you come once you’ll come again.”
PACK YOUR BAGS
Getting there
Eva Air and Japan Airways fly multiple times daily from Taipei to Osaka (Kansai International Airport). Round trip tickets cost NT$4,500 to NT$8,600
Take the JR express train from Kansai International Airport to Kyoto. A one-way reserve seat ticket costs around NT$1,200
Eat
Gion Nanba (kyotonanba.com)
Yagenbori Sueyoshicho (www.yagenbori.co.jp)
Katsukura (www.kyotokyoto.jp)
Visit
Golden Pavilion
Arashiyama Bamboo Grove
Fushimi Inari Shrine
Stay
Hyatt Regency Kyoto — five-star hotel with modern interior and sleek, traditional Japanese design elements (kyoto.regency.hyatt.com)
Westin Miyako Kyoto — five-star hotel in the quiet Higashiyama hills (www.miyakohotels.ne.jp)
Hiiragiya — 200-year old traditional Japanese inn or ryokan with tatami mat rooms (www.hiiragiya.co.jp/en)
In late October of 1873 the government of Japan decided against sending a military expedition to Korea to force that nation to open trade relations. Across the government supporters of the expedition resigned immediately. The spectacle of revolt by disaffected samurai began to loom over Japanese politics. In January of 1874 disaffected samurai attacked a senior minister in Tokyo. A month later, a group of pro-Korea expedition and anti-foreign elements from Saga prefecture in Kyushu revolted, driven in part by high food prices stemming from poor harvests. Their leader, according to Edward Drea’s classic Japan’s Imperial Army, was a samurai
The following three paragraphs are just some of what the local Chinese-language press is reporting on breathlessly and following every twist and turn with the eagerness of a soap opera fan. For many English-language readers, it probably comes across as incomprehensibly opaque, so bear with me briefly dear reader: To the surprise of many, former pop singer and Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) ex-lawmaker Yu Tien (余天) of the Taiwan Normal Country Promotion Association (TNCPA) at the last minute dropped out of the running for committee chair of the DPP’s New Taipei City chapter, paving the way for DPP legislator Su
It’s hard to know where to begin with Mark Tovell’s Taiwan: Roads Above the Clouds. Having published a travelogue myself, as well as having contributed to several guidebooks, at first glance Tovell’s book appears to inhabit a middle ground — the kind of hard-to-sell nowheresville publishers detest. Leaf through the pages and you’ll find them suffuse with the purple prose best associated with travel literature: “When the sun is low on a warm, clear morning, and with the heat already rising, we stand at the riverside bike path leading south from Sanxia’s old cobble streets.” Hardly the stuff of your
April 22 to April 28 The true identity of the mastermind behind the Demon Gang (魔鬼黨) was undoubtedly on the minds of countless schoolchildren in late 1958. In the days leading up to the big reveal, more than 10,000 guesses were sent to Ta Hwa Publishing Co (大華文化社) for a chance to win prizes. The smash success of the comic series Great Battle Against the Demon Gang (大戰魔鬼黨) came as a surprise to author Yeh Hung-chia (葉宏甲), who had long given up on his dream after being jailed for 10 months in 1947 over political cartoons. Protagonist