Food and Drink

Whatever the weather, and whatever the season, ramen is a firm Japanese favourite. A love affair that means one is never far away from a place specialising in the stuff. Some are fancy. Some are big. But more often than not they are tiny, tumbledown places like this. And invariably they are all the better for it.

Unlike many other kinds of eateries, cleanliness isn’t something one necessarily looks for when it comes to yakitori. In fact, it arguably involves an inverse correlation of sorts (if that makes any kind of sense), meaning the dirtier the place is, the more delicious the food will be. An idea that would suggest the chicken on a stick in this place is top notch.

A conclusion I can happily confirm is absolutely spot on.

The incessant heat and humidity make Tokyo’s increasingly long summers difficult to deal with. And on the countless days when it simply wears one down, there really don’t seem to be any benefits. Except one that is. The simple pleasure of sitting somewhere totally bereft of pretension and enjoying a wonderfully cold beverage.

With rainy season’s miserable grey skies, disheartening drizzle and dreaded rise in humidity, an escape of some sort is often sorely needed. Sometimes it’s even essential. And what better than to swap the dark, dampness of the city’s dismal looking streets, with the far more comforting darkness of a tiny Tokyo bar?

On a warm weekend afternoon, some outdoor food is very welcome. Even more so if there are drinks involved. And sometimes, the more slapdash the surroundings, the better.

Tokyo regenerates at a frightening pace, and yet in older — or more neglected — parts of the city, it can often feel like time has stood still. Something that’s definitely the case with this little bar and eatery.

Run by its 78-year-old owner, the furnishings clearly haven’t changed all that much in the decades they have both been there. A staggering 46 years to be exact.

Brought up in Okayama, the mama-san moved east to Tokyo as a young woman, and, after first living in Shinjuku, she later relocated to the suburbs — opening and then running the bar with her late husband. Something she still does today. Five nights a week. 5pm to 11:30 or so. Cooking, serving and generally being lovely.

A routine she intends to continue for the foreseeable future, or for at least as long as her health holds out. Ruefully admitting that it’s talking to customers that keeps her going, and when she can’t do it any longer, a massive part of her life will be lost. As indeed will the bar itself, which will be unceremoniously shuttered up like many other businesses on the same street. And on countless other streets all over the city.