A Feast to Remember

EDITOR'S NOTE: This is a guest post written by the Upstart Traveler's Mom.

"We're going out for traditional Japanese food tonight," said my brother. "Not a sushi place...not western-style...old-school."

He was emphatic. I nodded in agreement, happy to have him make the dining decisions for us. We were visiting Japan from Colorado in the fall of 2016, with our young daughter in tow. It was her first big international trip, and we were stretching her Fall Break from a four-day weekend into a jam-packed seven days.

Up to this point, it had been a whirlwind of small specialty houses--a ramen shop in town, a tonkatsu place in the Roppongi shopping district, jewel-toned sashimi with steamed rice at Tsukiji fish market--and we had loved it all.

On this night, we took the train to the Kunitachi district of Tokyo, and entered a low-profile, square-ish building that was dimly lit on the outside. "Natsunoya Tea House," read the sign, a navy blue banner fluttering from a teakwood gate.

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Inside, the restaurant was warmly lit, the narrow hallway lined with shoji screens along one side. We were greeted by an elegant hostess dressed in full kimono, who ushered us into a private dining room through one of the shoji-screened doorways. This was after we had removed our shoes, of course, in the traditional Japanese custom.

Now I understood.

Our dining room, one of several, was lined with tatami mats around a long, low table. The walls were hung with delicate silk paintings of cherry blossoms and serene landscapes, or scrolls of flowing calligraphy. The wall opposite the doorway was all glass, and we looked out on the beautifully manicured tea garden that was in the center of the building's "square". This, I realized, would be something very special.

As we took our seats along the table, a silver-haired gentleman in elegant dark suit entered our dining room and greeted my brother warmly. This was Suzuki-San, proprietor of the Natsunoya Tea House Kunitachi, its most enthusiastic ambassador and most gracious host. He was quite excited to meet us, and sat down to chat and oversee the progression of our meal. And so it began.

First, our kimono-clad hostesses brought out shallow bowls of glistening consommé dotted with lightly poached vegetables in the shapes of Japan's fall foliage. Also resting in the broth were tender slices of matsutake mushroom and house-made silken tofu with broad bean sauce.

Then we were each presented with a small teapot and accompanying small bowl. The pot was filled with a fragrant osuimono, a clear broth...this one served with delicate seafood, fresh herbs, and a wedge of lime. We poured the broth into the small bowl for sipping, then enjoyed the poached seafood alongside it.

Next came a gorgeous platter of plump local oysters on the half shell, garnished with shredded daikon radish, scallions, and ponzu sauce. Scattered with edible flowers and slender strands of chive, the platter itself was a work of art. Suzuki-San informed us that all of the beautiful serving dishes were hand-painted, many of them unique, and often featured gold or silver leaf. Because the restaurant was regularly visited by members of the Emperor's family, tableware of this high quality was a necessity. For us, of course, it was a treat.

The following courses were a study in impeccable preparation, artful plating and gracious service. Choice-cut morsels of sashimi with a sweet, succulent raw prawn and vegetables cut to look like maple leaves. Broiled abalone and salmon belly topped with ikura, plated alongside gingko-leaf shaped yam and glistening slices of Spanish mackerel.

There was a stunning bowl of what I can only translate as royal consommé...a broth that Suzuki-San explained was cooked for days, painstakingly skimmed of all impurities, and naturally gelatinized, even in its warm state, by the collagen and gelatin in the fish bones. Beneath its glossy surface were a delicately poached filet of salmon, a cloud of whitefish mousse, and a meaty shiitake mushroom cap topped with freshly grated wasabi to counterbalance the surprising richness of the dish.

We were treated to grilled morsels of meltingly tender Kobe beef with aged soy sauce. And when Suzuki-San learned that Sara had a taste for natto, Japan's funky but nutritious fermented soybeans, he called for the chef to bring her a bowl of house-made, locally sourced natto made with black soybeans.

Our palate-cleansing course was a simple bowl of steamed white rice topped with an impossibly large boiled chestnut, mildly sweet and chewy. It was accompanied by clear mushroom soup and lightly pickled vegetables.

For dessert...yes, there was dessert...we each got another beautiful plate of beautifully cut and arranged fresh fruit, each with a different tiny slice of beautiful cake--hazelnut mousse, green tea mousse, double chocolate, vanilla...

It was an incredible experience...a feast to remember, and an honor for us to have been treated so well by my brother's friend.

Suzuki-San was grateful for the many US dignitaries that my brother had brought to his restaurant for the "traditional Japanese meal" over the years. He was honored to meet our parents.

But the greatest honor for us was that Suzuki-San cleared his schedule to spend the entire evening with us, regaling us with stories and plying us with fine sakes and wine. He spoke only Japanese to my brother, who is fluent, but his smile and his graciousness needed no translation. Thank you, Suzuki-San. We will never forget you or your incredible hospitality.

I was saddened to learn just recently that the Natsunoya Tea House Kunitachi closed its doors for good during the dark days of the COVID pandemic. Japan is still closed to almost all foreign travelers, which has been a great burden to establishments such as this one.

Wherever you are, Suzuki-San, we hope you are well.