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)

Memories of War - and Peace - in Hiroshima

We postponed our visit of Hiroshima until the end of our 16-day slow trip of West Japan, for obvious reasons.



Months before our trip a colleague of mine had already warned us about the depression that would inevitably follow a visit of the Peace Memorial Park, for any human being with even the slightest degree of compassion. With that in mind I steered clear of Hiroshima after landing, taking my wife on a rambling, 600 km circular route before returning to Hiroshima only on our second last day.



The perishing of a hundred thousand lives, thousands instantaneously on the spot, is an uncomfortable yet compulsory subject for any first-time visitor to Hiroshima. Mother Teresa came, as did Mikhail Gorbachev who once jointly held the keys to nuclear armageddon during the Cold War. Barack Obama finally arrived in 2016 as the first sitting U.S. President to visit the very grounds once scorched by the order of his antecedent, some 70 years ago.



With solemn respect we took our mandatory half-day course into this depressing chapter of human history, followed by a deliberate attempt to decompress through a serene evening of autumn foliage viewing at Hiroshima's 400-year-old traditional garden. Decadent, but essential for mental health in our case.



Unlike the vast majority of visitors arriving by train, we coasted into town by the slow but reliable Hiroden streetcar from our previous homebase of Miyajima, making use of a cheap 600 yen (CAD$7) DayPass that included our 50-minute transfer to our hotel as well as four other rides on a long day. Old school trams such as this Showa Era relic remain a beloved hallmark of Hiroden, one of the storied local institutions to survive the A-Bomb and witness the city's rebirth into a modern metropolis.



By sheer luck we found an unbeatable deal for an 8-jo Tatami room in a respectable hotel at the heart of Hiroshima -- minutes from tram stops, the airport limousine bus as well as the department store trio of Sogo, Fukuya, and Mitsukoshi -- for less than 4800 yen per person. The secret? Try booking through Kansai travel giant KNT which I suspect has some behind-the-scene connections to Hiroshima Kokusai Hotel.



Despite its aging appearance, Hiroshima Kokusai provided us with decent amenities, impeccable Japanese service and the peace-of-mind that our heavy luggage dropped off in the morning would automatically appear inside our spotlessly cleaned room later. Our shoulders were thus lightened for an afternoon visit to the Peace Memorial Park, though we were barely prepared for how heavily our hearts would sink.



Now a designated UNESCO World Heritage Site for its ill-fated distinction, the Peace Memorial Park was once part of pre-war Hiroshima's bustling downtown district, just south of the unmistakably shaped Aioi Bridge used by the bomber pilot as the aiming point. Placed on its grounds are the ashes of 70000 unidentified victims of the A-Bomb, as well as a symbolic Peace Flame intended to remain burning until all nuclear weapons on the planet are destroyed, a noble goal that appears increasingly unrealistic as time progresses.



East of the park stands an anonymous street corner, unremarkable except for a stone monument identifying ground zero of the atomic blast, 580m in the air above the first incarnation of the highly respected Shima Hospital. One of two staff who escaped death by performing surgery at a nearby town, Dr. Shima Kaoru returned the next day to find his entire hospital's staff and patients reduced to ashes and bones, and spent the next years treating victims suffering from a range of never-before-seen symptoms.



A scale model at the Peace Memorial Museum captures that fateful moment at 08:15 on the morning of August 6, 1945, with an ominous red ball overhanging the hypocentre. An estimated 90000 died either from the blast or from the acute effects of radioactivity and burns, examples of which are illustrated in a gut-wrenching collection of photos and personal effects.



Warped coke bottles, ripped garments that melted onto victims' skin, a charred bento lunch clutched by its teenage owner as he burned and died, all vivid reminders of the anguish and helplessness of commoners at wartime, no matter the nationality or race.



By far the most heartbreaking exhibit was a rusted toy tricycle, buried for decades by a grieving father after the death of 3-year-old Shinichi-chan on the night of the atomic blast. To those who attribute the bombing of Hiroshima to a simple cause-and-effect of Japan's invasion of its Asian neighbours during WWII, I highly encourage visiting Hiroshima and seeing war from the perspectives of common folks, each with their own names and personal stories -- then try to explain the cause-and-effect to Shinichi-chan in front of his tricycle.



It was spiritually and physically draining -- similar to visiting the former Nazi death camp of Auschwitz or the Nanjing Massacre Memorial Hall I've been told -- and I was glad that my colleague had forewarned us to decompress after the museum visit. For the rest of the day we occupied our thoughts with shopping and Okonomiyaki before ending up at the historic Japanese garden of Shukkeien for an evening of illuminated Koyo viewing.



The private garden of Hiroshima's feudal rulers for much of its 400 year history, Shukkeien was almost entirely flattened and incinerated by the atomic blast merely 1500m away. But Hiroshimans -- like the rest of Japan in the post-war era -- persevered and meticulously replanted its entire landscape with traditional favorites such as pines, sakuras and maples, restoring an urban green space that has since become a popular date-spot especially during Hanami and Koyo season.



Arguably the best times to visit are late March and late November during Shukkeien's semi-annual evening openings, optimized for Sakura viewing in springtime and Momiji in autumn foliage season. For twenty days per year the garden is transformed into an illuminated wonderland of romantic dim lanterns along its meandering stone paths and impossibly vibrant colours above head.



Hiroshima is at the centre of Japan's beaten paths after all, and crowds of mostly domestic tourists are to be expected during the most spectacular season of the year at Shukkeien, especially at the bargain price of 260 yen (CAD$3).



Quaint teahouses grace the ingeniously designed ponds, nourished by freshwater channeled from the nearby river and teeming with colourful Koi fish fattened through constant feeding by visitors. The teahouses and pavilions are all postwar reconstructions, as the only structure in the garden to survive the A-Bomb was the 18th century stone bridge of Koko-kyo.



Surrounded by nature's magnificence it was easy to forget that we were still in the shadow of Hiroshima's skyscrapers, perhaps Shukkeien's best-loved quality among Hiroshimans and tourists alike. For locals it serves as an urban oasis a few minutes' walk from Hiroshima's business district, and for visitors like ourselves, a much needed dose of natural beauty and tranquility to restore our inner peace after a heavy lesson on the nature of war.



The rest of our time in Hiroshima was mostly spent on mindless shopping: a leg massager at Bic Camera for a friend, discount snacks at Yasumori as souvenirs, and random household items at my favorite store of Donki Hote, partially as a necessity and partially just to take our minds off the day when death descended upon this thriving city of 350000.



This was only a few months after President Obama's visit, in conjunction with Prime Minister Abe's tour of Pearl Harbour, where the two leaders jointly recognized the evil of war but steered clear of any apologies. While I do understand their united example to Japan's neighbours on letting go of the past without bickering for compensations, I seriously doubt how this posturing could foster reconciliation between Japan and her neighbours on generations-old wounds that still continue to fester, especially in the midst of another arms race in 21st century East Asia.



Scripted at the centre of the Peace Memorial Park is a purposely vague epitaph that the error, i.e. the evil of war, shall not be repeated, which still draws the ire and occasional vandalism by right wing nationalists still unabashed about Japan's "entry" into neighbouring countries in WWII. Meanwhile the Chinese still hold a deep grudge, and so do the Koreans. More than seventy years have passed since Hiroshima, and what lessons have we learned as a species?



Hiroshima. Nanjing. Auschwitz. Darfur. Syria. As much as we try to distance ourselves from the political leaders behind these horrific directives, none of us could deny the presence of evil entrenched at the depths of our human psyche in the form of selfishness, arrogance or revenge. In this age of no absolute truths or moralities and only ourselves in charge, I have no confidence that our human civilization would survive another century without self-destruction.



To readers who note the discord between these lovely images of autumn foliage and my sombre commentary, this was exactly the dichotomy that I felt for days after visiting the dual UNESCO World Heritage Sites of Hiroshima and Miyajima. Any lighthearted memories of Koyo-viewing and Okonomiyaki that we collected over these three days would always be accompanied by the reminder of a painful lesson to all humankind.



That evening we returned to our hotel by Hiroden -- the same Hiroden that survived the A-Bomb and still sends out a few surviving 1940s streetcars on special occasions, especially the anniversary of August 6 when the entire system would halt briefly for a silent minute at exactly 08:15. It is worth remembering, as all Hiroshima citizens surely understand.



I am still in a depressed mood writing this post, which should serve as a warning to readers considering a first visit to Hiroshima. In fact it may haunt you for days as you try to shut the memory of the rusted tricycle out of your mind, but absolutely essential for any self-respected traveler in pursuit of cultural understanding. Just remember to decompress with a garden stroll and perhaps some Wagashi sweets, and come away with a renewed view of humanity's flaws.