Richard's blog

Today saw the realisation of the long-held desire to try shojin ryori. Shojin-ryori (actually shoujin ryouri しょうじんりょうり) is a kind of elaborate vegetarian cuisine, Buddhist in origin. My vegetarian friend Zilla and I chose Bon, a fucha-ryori (普茶料理: ふちゃりょうり） restaurant near Iriya, in the northeast of Tokyo. (Fucha is a cuisine tradition within shojin.) It’s a bit of a challenge to find, even with the map, and from the outside, the restaurant looks disappointingly unassuming for a place where the cheapest lunch will set you back more than ¥4000.

But inside, in a peaceful private room with unobtrusive music, heated carpet for our feet, and the calming view of a rain-wet courtyard garden, disappointed was the very last thing we were. The meal was possibly the most impressive meal I’ve ever had. There were so many sensations of taste and texture, matched by astonishing presentation. The meal was as astonishingly decorative as it was culinary. I’m kicking myself that I didn’t take my camera, so I can only offer you a meagre shot I took on my cell phone.

We took the ¥5,750 (including service and tax) lunch. The meal began with sakura-cha, which was a surprisingly salty “tea.” Entree centred upon fake “clam” made from fu (a kind of Buddhist meat substitute), but was surrounded by a number of small taste-marvels that even Zilla, somewhat of an expert in Japanese vegetables, had trouble identifying. The main dish (pictured) consisted of about a dozen diminutive taste sensations, including a delicate little jelly made from Agar, a sakura mochi wrapped in shiso, a delicate piece of lotus root, a shitake sitting on a little mashed-sweet-potato pedestal, a piece of preserved galangal, and even a frond of fern, to describe only about half the dish. Later came a kind of turnip-based pot au feu laced with the rind of yuzu (an exquisitely-scented Japanese citron), some amazing tempura (including a feathery fan of tempuraed noodles and a tempuraed konnyaku that was like fake fish) and a series of delightful and contrasted soups (of which the delicate miso soup completely redefined my expectations of this Japanese staple.) To finish, green-tea rice and yuzu-perfumed pickles. Perfection. Bookings are essential (they need to prepare.)

All this took two hours, by which time we were plenty full and in raptures. It more than made up for my trip to Hakone on Monday, about which I wish to say very little, except that it is a terribly boring tourist trap, and the only good thing was the Tenzan onsen.