Hyotei

Life makes us temporal beings, and temporality makes history a significant factor in the way we humans think about everything that surrounds us. In understanding any subject, whether it be literature, music or science, historical contexts play an essential role.

Food, of course, is no exception.

Kyoto, the ancient capital of Japan from 794, is a city that thrives its present self on the past. Major headquartered industries (besides Nintendo) center around historic tourism and maintenance of art and culture passed on from centuries before.

The setting and cuisine of Hyotei are representative of such historicity. Without understanding its historical context, the experience at Hyotei cannot be fully appreciated. The restaurant with its current name started in 1837 after already serving its customers over six decades as an unnamed rest-stop/tea house for pilgrims to Nanzenji Temple, which, of course, still exists; it has since 1291.

Yes, 1291.

Coming from the New York City restaurant scene, where any establishment that lasts over six years is "long-standing," I necessarily shift my mental gear in this little old town. Important points in considering New York restaurants, such as ownership and management, celebrity or well-known chefs, opening reviews and innovativeness, do not weigh nearly as heavily as tradition, history and legend. Literary giants like Sannyo Rai (late-18th to early-19th C.) and Aritomo Yamagata (late-19th to early-20th C.) have thoroughly patronized Hyotei through their careers, adding to the legend, not unlike the way Hemingway left his mark at Lipp's in Saint-Germain. More recently the restaurant was bookmarked in the gourmet comic book series "Oishinbo" (1983 to present) in one of its episodes.

As with all history, the act of telling and retelling the history of Hyotei over the centuries adds layers to the place itself, creates it, and becomes it. The restaurant, therefore, is more than its food on a specific night, the single dinner from a personal experience.

(This point applies to all premises, old and new, even in New York City, so, ahem, hear me out, put that on your plate and eat it, Mr. Bruni.)

The dinner on this damp chilly December evening is my own participation in the history of Hyotei. The wonderful thing about food that cannot be done with paintings or sculptures is that I get to eat it, and by eating it I get to prevent it from escaping in the back of my conscious mind as just another passing object in a museum. Food allows me to join the making of history by tasting it, recounting it.

The dishes speak for themselves, not requiring any historical explanation to make them taste better than they already do. Knowing the historical context, however, makes more sense of them. (Imagine going to Notre Dame without knowing it is a religious monument. It is still the same magnificent building and would inspire awe from anyone without the critical information. However, being aware of the socio-religious background of the church and the history of the l'Ile de la Cite, la Seine, the bridges, etc., adds to the experience.)

Upon arrival we are met by the lady of the house who leads us to our room. Hyotei is composed of five guest buildings, each with a private room, and a main building, connected by narrow stone paths. Each room overlooks the quaintly beautiful garden from various angles, never offering the same view from two rooms. As the sun drops we are directed to a small tea house, where the cheerful banquet atmosphere can be detected only through the faintly audible voices, not in actual site. The architecture of the buildings allows us to feel as though we are the only ones there to be taken care of.

The dinner starts with yuba (tofu skin) covered in a delicate turnip sauce, a welcoming warm first course on a shivery winters night. The snapper sashimi that follows is sliced generously thick, letting us thoroughly enjoy its flavor and texture. I slide sips of chilled sake from an intricately cut glass between my bites. The soup with gentle white miso and lily bulb tofu with exactly three pieces of sweet red beans is a traditional composition; the combination of white miso and sweet red beans often make an appearance together in Western Japanese ozoni, New Year's soup. The hassun plate features soy-marinated monk fish liver, a mini-sushi of snapper, karasumi (part-dehydrated salted roe of striped mullet), miso-marinated stem lettuce and the famous Hyotei egg, a semi-hard-boiled egg with a tender bright orange center. We alternate back to a warm dish, takiawase of rice cracker-crusted ebi-imo yam in snow crab nage; shimeji mushrooms, gingko nuts and chrysanthemum leaves add textural and palate-awakening accents. Grilled soy-marinated sawara (Spanish mackerel) with white turnip carved in the shape of a chrysanthemum flower is followed by a braise of duck quenelle with kinntoki carrot, daikon and yuzu. The savories are wrapped up with oshokuji of white rice cooked in a traditional iron pot served with pickled vegetables.

Dessert arrives and I scoop out the juicy flesh of Daishiro persimmon cut in half and drizzled with kirsch. I think to myself, this must be the most complete dessert, and share my thought with my husband, who nods in agreement. The tender translucent fruit has a texture somewhere between sorbet, gelee and cantaloupe and an intense sweetness that I wish would linger for just a little longer on my palate. The second dessert is a confectionery of lily bulb paste shaped like a flower covered in snow. Matcha served traditionally in a bowl beautiful even to the touch concludes the evening.

The menu is textbook Kyoto kaiseki dinner, a thoroughly thought-out meal that fully considers the gifts of the land and season. The use of seasonal local ingredients, such as turnip, snapper, lily bulb, monk fish liver, karasumi, ebi-imo yam, snow crab, sawara, daikon and persimmon, is an epitome of the fundamental ideology of Japanese cuisine. Because Hyotei has long-trusted relationships with local farmers and purchase directly from them, the vegetables they use have a deeper flavor and, some even say, more nutrition than those available at markets. The same goes for fish and meat; for this reason rare and highly valued ingredients particular to the region are abundantly used in their dishes.

There is nothing flashy about the menu or the dining experience despite the generous use of the best ingredients, priceless tableware and one-of-a-kind setting. Unlike Mizai, where the glamorous presentation of dishes and Chef Ishihara's passionate character create an energy-filled atmosphere, Hyotei's allure is in its understated elegance and quietude through which one can actually feel the history.

Some criticize Hyotei for lacking readily tangeable splendor. Others question if the food at this too well-reknowned establishment is truly "the best" they have ever had. I believe these are honest reactions from experienced diners who could have had an enlightening dining experience had they considered the historical context of the cuisine at Hyotei.
So study up and make a reservation.


Hyotei
075-771-4116
Kyoto City, Sakyo-ku, Nanzenji, Kusakawa-machi 35
Kaiseki: 11 am - 7:30 pm
Budget: Lunch 23,000+ yen, Dinner 27,000+ yen
(They are also famous for their asagayu, morning porridge, served in July and August only from 8 to 10 am.)
Closed 2nd and 4th Tuesdays of the month
Reservation required