Essential Taipei Eats on 11-Hour Layover

Landing at one of Asia's food capitals and kicking yourself for having so little time?

That was our dilemma when we found ourselves on an 11-hour layover at Taipei en route to Hiroshima. But fear not: with some research even a half-day was enough for a whirlwind sampling of several major sights, and four essential eats symbolic of this bustling metropolis of 7 million.

05:30. Touched down at TPE Airport. It would take only 45 minutes to clear customs at this early hour.

06:15. Attempted to draw money from two different ATMs and finally succeeded with a Bank of Taiwan machine. With cash in hand we hopped on a Kuo-Kuang bus (this was 4 months before the Airport MRT opened) to central Taipei.

07:15. Countdown of our 6.5 hours in Taipei City as our bus arrived at Taipei Main Station. We would need to catch the return bus at 13:45 to arrive at TPE Airport in time for our 16:55 flight.



07:25. No better place to start our day in Taipei than the birthplace of Taipei itself. A 5-minute metro ride took us to Longshan Temple station where the picturesque Qing Dynasty brick structure of Bopiliao, 19th-Century-trading-post-turned-popular-movie-locale, was occupied by yet another film crew this morning.



07:30. Essential Eat #1. Shaobing Youtiao, or Fried Cruller wrapped in Roasted Flatbread, is one of those indispensable breakfast favorites that transcends multiple generations for the Taiwanese. A stone's throw from the tourist draws of Longshan Temple and Bopiliao stands this decades-old neighbourhood joint of Yonghe Sihai Doujiang, where you can always count on freshly handmade batches of these flaky pastries, accompanied of course by the essential Soy Milk.



Oh behave ... it's not what you're thinking!

Joking aside it never fails to amaze me how light and airy a Fried Cruller could taste, fresh out of the deep-frying vat and wrapped inside the aromatic, sesame-crusted Shaobing for a classic Chinese carb-on-carb indulgence. Adding a pan-fried Chive Pocket and two cups of nutty Soy Milk, and this standard Taiwanese breakfast would fuel us until the famous Din Tai Fung opens at 09:30.

Yonghe Sihai Doujiang Dawang
320 Kangding Road, Wanhua District, Taipei City
https://www.google.ca/maps/@25.0356676,121.5011822,21z

Bill for Two Persons

Soy Milk x 2	NT$40
Shaobing Youtiao (Fried Cruller in Roasted Flatbread)	NT$30
Jiucai Hezi (Chive Pocket)	NT$30
TOTAL	NT$100 (CAD$4.5)

08:00. Widely considered one of Taipei's top three temples and arguably the most architecturally spectacular, the Longshan Temple of Manka is a 280-year-old symbol of old Taipei that has survived everything from magnitude 7 earthquakes to Japanese occupation to American bombing during WWII.



Dating from the Japanese era, the current structure is renowned for its superb collection of traditional Taiwanese wood and stone sculptures including these ornate figures of mythical dragons and Qilins on the temple's distinctly parabolic roofline. The temple compound encompasses over a hundred different deities from various religious traditions, from Buddhist to Taoist to Confucian scholars and historic figures.



08:30. Cutting across the historic Manka neighbourhood en route to the Red House Theatre, we visited another prominent Qing Dynasty shrine known as the Qingshui Temple, a treasure trove of 19th Century calligraphy but now better known as backdrop for homegrown gangster movies.



09:15. After a quick selfie at the 100-year-old Red House Theatre, we took the metro to Taiwan's most recognizable landmark before the anticipated mass arrival of Mainland Chinese tour groups. What impressed us most wasn’t the grandiose scale of the C.K.S. Memorial and its adjoining square, but an unexpected urban oasis of classical gardens at the heart of metropolitan Taipei.



09:30. Frankly we had little interest in, or spare time for, Chiang Kai-Shek's personal effects housed inside a massive hall fit for a Chinese emperor, a respected monument or a despicable eyesore depending on which side you take in Taiwan's polarized politics. A few obligatory pictures sufficed before we continued our walk towards our most anticipated meal in Taipei.



09:45. Essential Eat #2. One of the world's Top 10 Restaurants according to Time Magazine -- which I do not necessarily agree with -- and the pride of Taiwan, Din Tai Fung has its humble beginnings here on Xinyi Road, next to the now-renowned 400m stretch of foodie heaven known as Yongkang Street. After 40 years its humble storefront remains surprisingly unadorned for a multi-national franchise with branches as far as New York, Tokyo and Sydney.



Just 20 minutes after opening and we're already queued behind dozens of local and Mainland Chinese gourmands, all converging here for the one legendary dish showcased by a spotless open kitchen where an assembly line of artisans all performed their specialized roles, from chopping and flavouring raw ingredients to hand-wrapping individual dumplings in Din Tai Fung's signature 18 folds.



Soup dumplings, XLB dumplings or Xiaolongbao -- whatever you call these one-bite wonders filled with scaldingly hot soup, I seriously doubt you could find one single table at Din Tai Fung that didn't order this iconic dish. A bamboo steamer with ten dumplings started at NT$210 (CAD$9.5) for pork and NT$370 (CAD$17) for the luxe version with crab meat and roes, exorbitant by Taiwanese standards but well-justified for its international fame.



This Crab Meat XLB Dumpling is now my new favorite Chinese-influenced Soup Dumpling, anywhere in the world.

I do not make this claim lightly -- I do consider myself an aficionado when it comes to authentic Soup Dumplings, its pinnacle demonstrated IMHO by the famed Jiajia Tangbao on Huanghe Road in Shanghai. And I still regard Jiajia Tangbao to be superior to Din Tai Fung in terms of the Umami flavour in the soup, when it comes to the basic pork version. But Din Tai Fung has a secret weapon that I have yet to encounter at any other Soup Dumpling specialist ...

... its incredibly soft and flexible wrapping, uncharacteristically chewy to the bite and resilient against breaking open, which would be the ultimate disaster in sampling Soup Dumplings. Combined with the remarkable sweetness of the crab meat and roes in the generous filling, this one-two punch was simply tough to beat.

Din Tai Fung (Xinyi Road Flagship Branch)
No.194, Xinyi Road Section 2, Da'an District, Taipei City
https://www.google.ca/maps/@25.0334872,121.5300852,21z

Bill for Two Persons

XLB Dumplings (Pork)	NT$210
XLB Dumplings (Crab Meat)	NT$370
Stewed Bamboo Shoots	NT$100
10% Tax	NT$68
TOTAL	NT$748 (CAD$34)

10:30. Once the world's tallest building before being overtaken by Dubai's Burj Khalifa, the unmistakeable Taipei 101 loomed large along Xinyi Road even from several kilometres away where it hosted an upscale branch of Din Tai Fung for a more affluent clientele. Forking over NT$600 per person to scale this ultramodern landmark wasn't in our plan, as we preferred to spend our limited time and budget on the city's cheap gourmet offerings.



10:40. Unconsciously we were drawn back to the oasis of urban greenery, amazingly situated just 50 metres off the side of C.K.S. Memorial Hall and surrounded by some of the city's busiest streets. This was the perfect spot to people-watch at an unhurried, almost anti-Taipei pace.



Next we stumbled upon one of Taipei's best kept secrets.

How did these wild herons and white egrets learn to settle at the absolute centre of Metropolitan Taipei, ironically next to Taiwan's most prominent public square and a regular venue for anti-government protests and parades? While we're not birdwatchers ourselves, this was certainly a nature lover's paradise as these herons seemed to feel entirely at ease with us getting close to arm's reach.



11:45. Essential Eat #3. Not that we're hungry again, but this was a food-themed layover and we returned to Ximen Station for a third breakfast ... or an early lunch. Ay-Chung Flour-Rice Noodle is one of those time-honoured street food vendors that has grown exceedingly famous in the Internet Age among locals and tourists alike, perennially seen standing or squatting along this congested block of Emei Street slurping down paper-bowls of piping hot noodles.



It was certainly worth the queue -- a savory bowl of rice noodles with chewy pork intestines, crispy bamboo shoots and what must have been a profuse amount of bonito flakes, all for just NT$65 (CAD$3) a bowl, cheap by international standards but apparently pricier compared with typical noodle stands elsewhere in Taiwan. A dollop of chili sauce and a pinch of chopped basil served to enhance the aroma, though the real crowd-pleaser was the intense Umami sweetness from the Chai Yu, or Katsuobushi for those old enough to remember it as a vestige of pre-WWII Japanese influence.

Ay-Chung Flour-Rice Noodle
No.8-1, Emei Street, Wanhua District, Taipei City
https://www.google.ca/maps/@25.0433519,121.5076104,21z

Bill for Two Persons

Rice Noodles	NT$65
TOTAL	NT$65 (CAD$3)

12:15. Essential Eat #4. Three of our four eatery choices in Taipei involved extensive queues, the longest seen at this 70-year-old institution of Lautianlu, best-known for its plethora of soy-braised exotic meats and offals from chicken hearts to duck webs to its best selling duck tongues. Back in the heydays of classic cinema these cheap cuts of meat were considered perfect movie snacks, similar to the rise of popcorn in the Western world. Nowadays two related but fiercely competing Lautianlu shops strive for supremacy within this four-block radius in Ximending, though the long queues of movie goers have long been displaced by souvenir-hunting tourists from Mainland China.



We queued for a good 15 minutes for eight duck tongues, one duck wing and two ginormous duck gizzards, my wife's favorite item in terms of Lu Wei, a genre of informal, soy-braised takeout prevalent in Southern Chinese-influenced cities such as Taipei and Hong Kong. With our prized plunder in hand we slowly strolled back towards Taipei Main Station, passing by the fortified Qing Dynasty gate before hopping on the 13:45 bus back to TPE Airport.



Once you get past the alien-looking shape and chewy texture, these marinated tongues would amaze your palate with an extraordinary depth of flavour derived from a savory concoction of dark soy sauce, various Chinese herbs and spicy Sichuan peppers. Just ditch that thought of French-kissing the ducks.

Lautianlu
No.55, Wuchang Street Section 2, Wanhua District, Taipei City
https://www.google.ca/maps/@25.0447443,121.5072884,21z

Bill for Two Persons

Braised Duck Tongues (TWD185/100g)	NT$174
Braised Duck Wing	NT$27
Braised Duck Gizzards x 2	NT$80
TOTAL	NT$281 (CAD$12.8)

14:45. Back at TPE Airport we finally sat down to munch on the duck gizzards and tongues, savouring the last bits from our 4th light meal over a half day in Taipei, clearly too short for our curious tastebuds. My mind had already been made up -- we need to return for a proper, perhaps round-island trip to fully appreciate Taiwan as a foodie destination. Maybe next year.

Hiroshima - Cheap Seafood Pancake to Michelin-Starred Restaurant

With only 36 hours in Hiroshima City, we carefully hand-picked three of its most representative restaurants for a well-rounded sampling of regional flavors. We would start with the originator of world-famous Okonomiyaki pancakes, Hiroshima's greatest contribution to the Japanese culinary repertoire, then move onto two tiny family-run eateries, renowned for their seafood offerings for years even before earning their combined three Michelin stars.

MITCHAN SOHONTEN HATCHOBORI HONTEN (Hiroshima)
Address: Hatchobori 6-7, Naka-ku, Hiroshima-shi, Hiroshima Prefecture
Hours: Lunch 11:00-14:30, Dinner 17:30-21:00; Closed on Wednesdays
Map: from Google Maps
Directions: From the Hatchobori tram stop, walk north for 150m along the main Chuo-dori thoroughfare then turn left at Kyobashi-dori. Mitchan is about 30m down the street on the right side.

To 1700 Okonomiyaki restaurants in Hiroshima Prefecture alone, this is the granddaddy of them all ... or at least that's the story according to the legendary Ise Mitsuo, a.k.a. Mitchan, who took over his father's scrungy little Yatai stand in 1950 and largely formulated what has since become the undisputed soul food of all Hiroshimans. Nowadays three related chains bearing the name of Mitchan, all headed by different family members, scatter throughout the city and even delivers DIY Okonomiyaki across Japan for connoisseurs who don't mind paying 6000 yen plus shipping for four pancake kits.



While Yatai carts have long been eradicated by city officials, Mitchan Sohonten has since ascended to the pantheon of nationally-famous restaurants in spite of, or perhaps due to, its narrow focus on the few items it does better than almost anyone else. With legions of fans prepared to endure insane queuing times every night, we arrived shortly after its opening hour of 17:30 and still waited 30 minutes for two coveted seats at the greasy Teppanyaki counter.



Compared to mixed (i.e. Kansai-style) Okonomiyaki ubiquitous all over Japan, Hiroshima's version is a canvas of layered edible art typically kicking off with a thin crepe at the bottom before various combinations of ingredients -- sliced cabbage, bean sprouts and pork belly according to the original recipe -- are piled on top of the mound.



Once the crepe starts to brown, the entire stack is flipped upside down to allow the pork belly to sear while the crepe tents and steams the cabbage. Tenkasu, or Tempura batter bits, is tossed in for extra crunchiness in a curious local tradition dating back to the impoverished 1950s when Okonomiyaki was first conceived as a cheap, newspaper-wrapped takeout in post-A-Bomb Hiroshima.



While the cabbage steams away underneath the crepe, other chefs down the assembly line would be blanching Yakisoba and Udon noodles, stir-frying them on the Teppan and brushing the finished crepe stacks with gooey Okonomi sauce. These four chefs would churn out an incredible 1000 Okonomiyaki pancakes a day on weekends at a level of industrial efficiency worthy of the nearby Mazda production plant.



Last but not least, each pancake would be anointed with a copious slathering of Okonomi sauce, always the signature of any Okonomiyaki joint. Said to have been invented by Mitchan himself in the 1950s when he decided to replace Worcester sauce with the unwanted viscous gloop leftover from sauce production, Okonomi sauce has since gained such a religious following in Hiroshima that it has its own museum at the headquarter of Otafuku, the largest Okonomi sauce maker in Japan.



After a generous dusting of powdered seaweed, the finished Okonomiyaki would be slid along the hotplate to the ordering customer, who may choose to drench the pancake further with an additional layer of Kewpie mayonnaise. Pictured above was our order of a seasonal specialty known as Kaki Soba Nikutama, a restaurant shorthand for oysters, Yakisoba noodles, pork belly and eggs. The salivating acidity of Okonomi sauce -- coupled with the aroma of charred seafood on the Teppan -- was too tempting to resist diving in immediately with the iron spatula.



That's when I made the rookie mistake as a first-timer in Hiroshima.

In the past I had only been exposed to Kansai-style Okonomiyaki, spearheaded by no-nonsense Osakans who had taught me to cut their pancakes into pizza-like wedges. But a quick look around the room and I realized my faux pas -- our Hiroshiman neighbours all cut theirs into little squares with 90-degree cuts. But it hardly mattered as everyone including ourselves were too blissfully indulging in these messy pancakes, so much so that we had half-finished ours before realizing that ...

... I had entirely forgotten about the Mayo!



The presence of oversized Teppan hotplates automatically qualifies most Okonomiyaki joints as Teppanyaki restaurants, each with its own house specialties ranging from 200-yen bean sprouts to A5-rank Wagyu beef. At Mitchan Sohonten the crowd favorite turned out to be a mysterious cut of beef known locally as Koune which, if I didn't completely misunderstand, came from the armpit of the cattle's forelegs. While the texture was a little more fibrous than expected, these paper-thin slices of beef were well-balanced with fat drippings and seasoned so boldly with Shichimi pepper that it was just the perfect match for a cold bottle of Asahi.



After a premium Okonomiyaki, a Teppanyaki dish of Koune beef, some slow-braised beef tendons, stir-fried vegetables and a bottle of Asahi to share, our bill tallied less than 1800 yen (CAD$21) per person, quite reasonable considering Mitchan Sohonten's immense popularity among Hiroshima's Okonomiyaki connoisseurs. My next challenge would be to produce a passable Hiroshima-style Okonomiyaki at home -- I thought I was starting to figure out the Kansai version, but our visit to Mitchan has just set the bar impossibly high.

Bill for Two Persons

Okonomiyaki (Kaki Soba Nikutama flavor)	1300 yen
Stewed Beef Tendon	480 yen
Stir-Fried Koune	700 yen
Stir-Fried Vegetables	550 yen
Bottle of Asahi	550 yen
TOTAL	3580 yen (CAD$42.1)

If the price-quality-ratio of Mitchan Sohonten appealed to you, our next eatery offered perhaps an even better deal of top quality seafood, at the heart of Hiroshima and without massive line-ups. And the kicker is ... we're talking 2500 yen (CAD$29) for a multi-course meal at a Michelin starred restaurant.


TAKOTSUBO (Hiroshima)
Address: Horikawa-cho 4-19, Naka-ku, Hiroshima-shi, Hiroshima Prefecture
Hours: Lunch 12:00-14:00, Dinner 17:00-22:00; Closed on Wednesdays
Map: from Google Maps
Directions: From the Hatchobori tram stop, walk south for one block along the main Chuo-dori thoroughfare then turn left into the covered arcade of Ebisu-dori. Takotsubo is about 20m down the arcade on the right side.


Specializing in time-honoured recipes for local seafood from the Seto Inland Sea, Takotsubo is a small family-run eatery that has risen to Michelin-star status amongst fierce competition in central Hiroshima. Gracing its understated storefront is the Kanban signage pronouncing its claim to fame -- charbroiled Unagi and Anago eels in savory sauce, served in decades-old rice buckets that speak to Hiroshima's long history of scrumptious peasant dishes, long before the invention of Okonomiyaki.



Behind the latticed sliding door is a claustrophobic space with no tables and a small L-shaped counter that barely seats a dozen diners, and only if everyone gets real cozy. Like most of the local clientele we did make reservations ahead of time, a necessity for its exquisite 10+ course dinners and recommended even for informal lunches, popular apparently with hungry shoppers from the neighbouring Mitsukoshi Department Store.



Lavish ingredients such as Watari crabs and gigantic Sazae conches, ready to be steamed inside their own shells in Tsuboyaki style, filled the display case alongside blue-collar favorites such as fresh sardines and Shishamo smelts.



Among Takotsubo's signature dishes are bowls of vegetables and tofu derivatives sitting atop the counter, all slow-simmered in the restaurant's famous Dashi broth also used as base flavour for the more expensive features in the evening. While every neighbourhood Shokudo serves its own variant of Yasai-no-Nimono, few restaurants acquire the top quality Kombu kelp and Katsuobushi shavings needed to elevate this homemade dish to classy Ryotei level.



It's not as expensive as it looked. While 15-course Omakase dinners averaged around 15000 yen (CAD$175) per head, our lunchtime specials -- four course affairs featuring an entrée, simmered vegetables, rice with Tsukemono and soup -- were relative bargains starting at 2500 yen (CAD$29) for Sardine Sashimi and 2700 yen for the legendary Hitsumushi, or Charbroiled Eels in Rice Buckets.



Between the choices of Anago (saltwater eels) or Unagi (freshwater eels) for Hitsumushi, my wife picked the Unagi which arrived charbroiled in smoky Kansai style and smothered in shredded seaweed, green onions and Wasabi, similar to Nagoya's Hitsumabushi but without the green tea for making rice porridge as a final step. Despite the sheer volume of the bucket, my wife, normally a small eater, somehow found the appetite to finish the entire Hitsumushi all by herself. This was certainly the best Unagi of our trip, though the best dish of the meal was still to come.



Look at the semi-translucent flesh and brilliant metallic shine of these little sardines, certainly among the freshest Hikarimono -- Japanese culinary term for any silver-skinned fish -- I have ever tasted. Painstakingly deboned by hand and meticulously rinsed one by one to remove any slimy residue off the skin, this simple dish of Ko-Iwashi Sashimi became one of my favorite memories of Hiroshima.



Served with refreshing Kaiware sprouts, seaweed and grated ginger, these lowly sardines turned out astonishingly fresh and mild with absolutely no hint of lingering fishiness. For a self-proclaimed foodie this was a gastronomic epiphany that forever changed my perception of a humble fish oft relegated to canned food in the Western world.



That's not all -- each lunch set also came with a generous bowl of the aforementioned Yasai-no-Nimono, gently re-simmered and infused with Umami flavors from the superb Dashi broth. Spongy Koya-dofu, Hanpen fish cakes, Satoimo potatoes, Kabocha squash, Kombu kelp, carrots and tofu-skin pouches all combined for a homey dish similar to the ubiquitous Oden at any neighbourhood Izakaya, but at an uncompromised quality worthy of the best Obansai specialist restaurants in Kyoto.



Another excellent feature of the lunch set was a dark Aka-dashi soup, generously brewed with a deeply aromatic Aka-miso and steeped with several large Asari clams for a deliciously complex, almost coffee-like aftertaste.



Even the Tsukemono pickles were first-rate in this discounted lunch that teased with Takotsubo's Michelin-starred offerings at a small fraction of the dinner price tag. Assuming that the Yasai-no-Nimono and the soup cost about 700 and 300 yen respectively, we're looking at only 1500 yen (CAD$17.6) for the entrée of Sardine Sashimi and 1700 yen for the celebrated Unagi Hitsumushi, certainly bargains at this fantastic quality ... Michelin stars or not.

Bill for Two Persons

Unagi Hitsumushi (Broiled Eels in Rice Bucket)	2700 yen
Ko-Iwashi Sashimi Set Lunch	2500 yen
8% Tax	416 yen
TOTAL	5616 yen (CAD$66)

This concludes our foodie tour of Hiroshima, covering the mecca of Okonomiyaki pancakes, one of the city's premier seafood specialists, a Michelin 2-star Tempura chef reviewed in the previous post, and arguably Japan's best-known specialist restaurants for Anago eels and oysters at nearby Miyajima. 4 days in Hiroshima Prefecture and 16 days spent on this slow trip of West Japan, and we barely scratched the surface.

Omakase Lunch at Hiroshima's Tempura Master Chef

Cheap dinners and upscale lunches has always been our golden strategy on any Japan trip, taking advantage of significant lunch discounts at exclusive restaurants normally outside our budget range. That was the case when we visited Hiroshima's premier Tempura specialist, Chef Higuchi Kenichi's one-man show currently rated Michelin 2-Stars.

For two independent travelers stretching our budget over 16 days, this was the only way we could afford this elaborate feast normally priced at 9000 yen (CAD$106) for dinner. At lunchtime the price drops to 4200 yen (CAD$49) for a full Omakase and a competitive 2500 yen (CAD$29) for a Ten-Don, still far from dirt cheap, but rumoured to be worth every single yen.

Food Review: TENKOU HONTEN (Hiroshima)
Address: Horikawa-cho 4-2, Naka-ku, Hiroshima-shi, Hiroshima Prefecture
Hours: Monday to Saturday 11:30-14:00 and 17:30-23:00
Map: from Google Maps
Directions: From the Hatchobori tram stop, walk south for one block along the main Chuo-dori thoroughfare then turn left into the covered arcade of Ebisu-dori. Turn right into the next alley, and Tenkou Honten is about 20m down the alley on the right side.

Hidden amongst Karaoke parlours and hostess bars at Hiroshima's infamous entertainment district, Tenkou Honten is tiny and inconspicuous even to locals who know this one-man operation. When we diligently reserved a few weeks ahead by email, it was indeed Chef Higuchi who personally replied in simple English.



"Yoyaku no gaikokujin desu" -- we're the foreigners who made reservation -- was a simple phrase that I had mastered over two weeks of touring West Japan's small towns. Beyond the Noren curtain was an elegant but minimalist space with only eight seats, all facing the chef along a luxurious counter of oiled Hinoki wood. Grating Wasabi behind the counter was Chef Higuchi himself, attentively serving a clientele of only four -- including the two of us -- on this Friday afternoon.



Omakase -- literally "up to you" -- in Japanese dining always signifies a gamble in which the the diner grants the chef free creative license to express his skills and flair in exchange for the freshest ingredients at prices cheaper than a la carte. In our case Chef Higuchi would sequentially prepare 13 courses of Tempura from scratch in front of our eyes, from Gingko seeds to Maitake mushrooms to live Kuruma-Ebi prawns from his fish tank.



Shun, the Japanese principal of serving seasonal ingredients at the peak of their flavors, would be explicitly highlighted here by baby bamboo shoots and asparagus in springtime, Ayu in the summer, gingko nuts and lotus roots in the autumn and Fugu in the winter. Arriving in late November we weren't sure if it was still autumn or the start of winter in terms of fresh produce, and would soon find out from the spread of ingredients.



As newcomers we didn't realize the eliteness of the clientele until an older gentleman politely asked us to not capture his face on our photos. His emphasis on shielding his bottle of Sake gave me the inkling that he might be a recognizable politician spending the tax payers' money, a suspicion that we dared not confirm.



While we were enjoying our appetizer salad with Chirimen anchovies, Chef Higuchi brought out an unsually sophisticated suite of dips: a quality Moshio (seaweed salt), spicy curry salt, lemon juice with salt, and a traditional Tentsuyu dipping with grated Daikon radish. Each individual piece of Tempura would be paired with its own optimal dipping to be revealed by our master chef.



Tempura at its pinnacle is said not to be a deep-fried dish at all, but a steamed dish in which the ingredient is steamed by its own moisture enclosed within the protective outer shell of the fried batter. Chef Higushi demonstrated his mastery of this edible art form as he prepped the raw ingredients one by one, mixing a fresh batter and sprinkling little drops to test the oil, then deep-frying each piece with delicate variations in oil temperature.



Each diner received two Kuruma-Ebi prawns served over three courses, starting with these flavorsome legs from the bottom part of the prawn's head, crunchy like Senbei crackers yet soft enough to not require a laborious bite. Paired with either seaweed salt or lemon juice, this simple first course turned out to be my wife's favorite.



The tails of the Kuruma-Ebi were served individually over the next two courses, first paired with seaweed salt to highlight its natural sweetness, then with salted lemon juice as a palate refresher. By this point the room was entirely saturated with the alluring smell of sesame oil, always the soul of quality Tempura.



An interlude between more substantial features, the autumn specialty of gingko nuts arrived with its unmistakably mild bitterness and al dente texture, which set the stage for one of Chef Higuchi's proud inventions in a unique combination of ingredients.



Deep-fried whole before being sliced open, this sizeable Shiitake mushroom was stuffed with a half scallop and glued together by a thin layer of pureed shrimp. But the real magic was the delicious contrast between the fully cooked Umami of the organic Shiitake and the semi-raw lusciousness of the scallop.



Between the choices of Tentsuyu and lemon juice as recommended by Chef Higuchi, we both preferred the Umami sweetness of Tentsuyu as it seeped into the deeply aromatic Shiitake. While lemon juice paired better with the scallop and shrimp puree, to us it was the Shiitake's pronounced woodiness that really starred in this dish.



With the exception of shrimp, Kisu may just be the most popular ingredient in Tempura thanks to its mild, unoffensive flavor that easily goes with any of the four dipping options provided. Unbeknownst to us Chef Higuchi was busy prepping another white-fleshed fish, ten times more expensive and a thousand time rarer. You guessed right if you said ...



... Poisonous Fugu!

Yes, the infamous puffer fish notorious in urban legends of the Western world, and revered as the King of Winter Flavors among foodies in Japan. As one small fillet would have cost several hundred yen on its own, I was slightly surprised to see it served as part of our discounted lunch.

Perhaps more importantly, this meant that we managed to straddle autumn and winter in terms of seasonal specialties. Late November really was a great time to visit West Japan!



The next course turned out to be a mystery as Chef Higuchi taught me the name for this rare autumn specialty known as Makomodake. Makomo what? Makomo-Dake, which I suspected might have something to do with bamboo shoots (-Take or -Dake).

While the name was entirely foreign to me, the light flavor and crispy texture reminded me of a vegetable we last tasted several years ago at the picturesque waterfront towns of Eastern China. And that suspicion turned out correct -- it was Manchurian wild rice stem, known as Jiaobai in Eastern China where it is mostly used in heavily sauced stir-fried dishes. Sampling this as a Tempura ingredient gave us a different perspective on this seasonal Asian vegetable.



Much less exotic was the ubiquitous Gobo or burdock root, an Izakaya staple in the form of Kinpira and paired here with either Tentsuyu or seaweed salt.



Another autumn specialty arrived in the form of Renkon, harvested from the Japanese lotus root capital of Iwakuni, just 30 minutes west of Hiroshima. Tentsuyu and seaweed salt were the recommended pairings for this light flavored vegetable.



Perhaps the best-known seasonal specialty in Hiroshima are fresh oysters from the pristine waters surrounding Seto Naikai National Park, treasured everywhere in Japan during the autumn and winter months. The lightness of the batter, the juiciness and concentrated Umami flavor of the oysters -- everything was infinitely better than the Oyster Tempura we had at Miyajima the previous day! While Chef Higuchi did recommend seaweed salt as a recommended dip, his craft was so good that I barely needed any dipping at all.



Call me unconventional, but my favorite Tempura ingredients tend to be robustly flavored, leafy vegetables like Shungiku or Shiso with sizeable surface areas for the crispy batter. The closest item on this afternoon was this cluster of Maitake mushrooms, not exactly strong flavored but battered generously enough to absorb the savory Tentsuyu sauce.



For the final course of Tempura, Chef Higuchi chose arguably the most representative regional specialty along the Seto Inland Sea coastline, a whole filleted Anago eel sliced into two generous pieces and deep-fried in the lightest batter. This was where our Taisho finally unleashed the one seasoning unused thus far ...



... the mysterious curry salt. To fellow foodies with an aversion to the squashy texture of your typical steamed Anago on top of Sushi, the al dente firmness of this fillet was at the opposite end of the spectrum. Saltwater eels simply don't come much fresher than this.

That concluded our 13 courses of Tempura, though the most substantial dish was yet to come.



For the most filling course, each client was individually offered the choice of Ten-Don (Tempura with Sauce on Rice), Hogushi (Hand-torn Tempura Patty on Plain Rice) or Cha-zuke (Tempura in Rice Porridge). My male tastebuds preferred the Ten-Don for the robustness of condensed Tentsuyu infused into the crispy Kakiage patty ...



... while my wife preferred the delicate Hogushi -- literally massaged Tempura -- with freshly grated Wasabi providing a refreshing balance to the deep-fried batter. You simply can't lose with either choice, and I trust that the Cha-zuke would have been just as outstanding.



This was turning out to be one of the best meals of our 16-day trip even before the arrival of this deeply aromatic Aka-dashi soup with a generous serving of Shijimi clams. Even the Tsukemono pickles were top quality, just like everything else at Tenkou Honten.



Towards the end Chef Higuchi served Matcha in a traditional manner, artistically presenting the tea bowl with the customary two quarter-turns that one would expect at a tea ceremony. The once-pricey 4200 yen now seemed a real bargain for a two-hour, 17-course progression from the appetizer salad, 13 courses of Tempura, a Ten-Don or Hogushi, Miso soup, Tsukemono, to finally Matcha and Wagashi. Witnessing the artistry of a top Tempura chef, Michelin-starred or not, was a privilege that this foodie would relish for years whenever I think of our first visit to Hiroshima, two days of truly exceptional food to balance out my darker reflections.

Bill for Two Persons

Omakase Lunch	4200 yen
Omakase Lunch	4200 yen
Tax	672 yen
TOTAL	9072 yen (CAD$107)