When I went to Japan two curious things happened.
First, I didn’t like the sushi. Ok so maybe I like my maki-rolls stuffed with fried chicken and drizzled in jam. So I’m not a sushi purist- jeez no need to be a snob about it. The fish may have been slap-your-face fresh but you can wave sayonara to anything other than nigiri or sashimi. You just aint getting it busta.
Secondly, I discovered the world of Wagashi, Japanese confectionary to you and me. And as far as worlds go, it’s pretty darn moreish. Mochi, little squidgy balls of rice flour filled with bean paste, jellies in every flavour known to man, doryaki pancakes with custard creme. Now I think back, I’ve never eaten so much jelly.
Recently I relived the experience at Minamoto Kitchoan on London’s Piccadilly, unfortunately located across the street from my office.
On weekdays it’s a tranquil little oasis with cups of green tea matcha and soothing Japanese folk music. I enjoyed a green tea jelly cube with bean-paste along with a melon jelly mound (which was ok). Not as good as in Tokyo, but the perfect antidote to mille-feuille ennui.
44 Piccadilly, London
608 5th Ave #1 New York