MANILA, Philippines - Notwithstanding the quick four-hour ride from Manila, Japan used to be a distant presence for most Filipino tourists. Price was the obvious barrier. The visa process discouraged them further. But in the last two years, without having to access the official tourist arrival report from Japan’s tourism ministry, I believe that it has gone up. Japan must have finally solved the imbalance between the tourists it exports and the ones it takes in. The numbers from the Philippines may not match those of China’s and Singapore’s, but you just have to look at your FB network’s selfie postings. More and more Pinoys are visiting Japan.
Why the Pinoy explosion? It could be any or a combination of reasons. The Philippines now belongs to the most dynamic region of the world, economically speaking. The peso has gained significantly against the dollar, and more can now afford to visit Japan, which is just a few places above Singapore and Hong Kong on the list of the most expensive cities in the world. Word has spread that it’s easier to apply for a Japanese visa. Flights from Manila have become more frequent and affordable. Pinoys are addicted to Japanese ramen, the lechon manok or Zagu of the decade, and want to taste the real thing. We want to help Japan get back on its feet after that destructive tsunami.
Expect higher Pinoy arrivals in Japan on account of current events. One neighbor nearer our shores is planning to lift visa-free privileges for Pinoy visitors. If you had to go through applying for a visa anyway, wouldn’t you rather go for a cleaner, more fascinating and fresher destination?
Japan was also our most generous neighbor during the Yolanda crisis. We just have to give back.
If you’ve never been to Japan before, I suggest you do Tokyo first. It’s a proper introduction to a world like no other, where modern mixes with traditional, where serene meets wacky. Then, you can work your way westward to Kyoto, the old Japan, and Osaka, its kitchen.
I went with a large group on my first trip to Tokyo. Our schedule was tight and wanting in some culinary adventure. So that was my only agenda when I returned to the capital city a few months ago. Because food in Tokyo is just as important as going to the shrine for cheap, funky and wearable fashion: Uniqlo in Ginza. All of 12 floors.
It had to be about food since Tokyo had once again earned the top table of world food. Tokyo has more Michelin-rated restaurants than Paris and America, catapulting it to “world gourmet capital†status. Curiously enough, a number of stars were awarded to restaurants serving French, Italian and Spanish.
The thing is, the Japanese don’t care much about Michelin.
And neither should the Pinoy foodie. Most of the Japanese establishments listed in the Michelin guide offer kaiseki, Japanese haute cuisine that’s multi-course and very pricey. It misses out on local fare that’s served in local pubs (izakaya), fast-food joints and market stalls. Tokyoites are known to be discerning diners. The work ethic applied to making a Toyota is expected of any restaurateur or cook. Quality is an obsession. So you’d never go wrong anywhere you go.
Here’s a tip: list down your favorite Japanese food in Manila. Then, research or ask any Tokyo resident where to find Tokyo’s version of that particular item.
Search the location on Google maps, hop on the metro and keep asking how to get there. Everyone will be willing to help. Riding the train is just as memorable for its precision, cleanliness, and sheer confusion.
Tonkatsu topped my list since it’s the one Japanese food that’s not done well in Manila. I made it a personal mission to find the best tonkatsu. And I found it at Maisen, in the chic area of Aoyama, near the beautiful, tree-lined shopping district of Omotesando. The place itself is charming since it used to be a public bath in the ’40s.
Go for Maisen’s premium Okita Kurobuta Fried Pork Loin. It comes with miso soup, a heaping of shredded cabbage, a special sauce and a bowl of rice. The secret to great tonkatsu is in the quality of the pork, deep-fried to the right level of crispness and juiciness, without the greasy taste. Maisen has the secret just right.
The only downside to Maisen is the price of its top katsu. The Kurobuta costs about P1,550. Its next best cutlet, though, costs much less and will always be superior to what you’ll ever get in Manila.
An alternative to Maisen is Yabaton in Ginza where the miso-katsu is almost as premium, and costs only around P600. Yabaton is a legend in itself, having been established in the same spot since 1947.
With Japan’s most famous culinary export, sushi, the experience will largely depend on your budget. I didn’t have $300 to blow on Jiro’s sushi in Shinjuku (Jiro is a national treasure, according to the widely seen documentary Jiro Dreams of Sushi). So I settled for what Lonely Planet recommended as the kaiten (conveyor belt) choice: Sushi Zanmai. Zanmai is all over the city, and serves raw fish 24/7. A lunch set costs about P600 and will make the pickiest of sushi eaters happy.
One evening I was craving yakitori and I wanted to sample what Anthony Bourdain featured in No Reservations. Bird Land was the place in Ginza, which took about an hour for our group to find. All I remembered was that it was tucked in a basement near the Ginza station and a dental office. With no reservations, and clueless about the menu and pricing, we walked into a modern, casual setting with jazz filling the air. Okay, I get “Bird†because of saxophonist Charlie “Bird†Parker, and also the feathered creature, along with everything about it that’s edible.
Grilled chicken on skewers sounds a tad boring but Bird Land has taken it to the next level. It is monumentally good, the most intense culinary experience I had in Tokyo; and the most expensive, too, (at least P3,000 for the chef’s set of seven courses). As it turned out, Bird Land was touted as the standard for yakitori in Tokyo. I only learned that later through Google that it earned a Michelin star — one that even Michelin doubters would not dismiss.
Bird Land’s chicken is free-range, reared in the northwest mountains. It’s fresh, tender and aromatic. The charcoal is brought from a prefecture miles away, and preferred for the even, constant heat it generates. The chicken parts (including the neck and gizzards) are lightly charred and dotted with blobs of wasabi. There’s the taste of sea salt, chervil, basil, sage, a drizzle of olive oil, taro sauce, even caramel. The skin was thin, crisp like the best pork crackling from Dumaguete.
Wish I could’ve eaten more yaki and drunk from their wine list, but if I did, I wouldn’t have money left for the bus ride back to Narita. But the group wanted more yakitori and booze of the much cheaper kind. So off we went to one of Tokyo’s fabled izakaya — from the very haute to the very humble, right under the tracks of the Shimbashi station. You can’t go lower than that after a Michelin experience.
It was nonetheless thrilling to have a table made from Sapporo beer crates, and be seated next to Chanel bag-toting office workers. The train pistons from above chugged, as we did our own chugging of large Sapporos. We spent only P500 each for rounds of beer and yakitori that was as filling and fun as JT Manukan’s.
Ramen joints are as ubiquitous local pubs, and they are not to be missed. When you enter these shops, which usually seat about 15 diners, the first thing you’ll see is a vending machine. You slot in about P420 and you’re served by an old lady in a few minutes. For a few pesos more, you can have the tsukemen — cold, thick noodles and steaming broth served separately. The toppings of pork slices or fish cake are simple but tasty. Not excellent but solid still.
What you can write home about is Inoue Ramen, located near the Tsukiji Market (another great place for sushi but the queues are long!). Street food is rare in Tokyo. Inoue is one of the few standing ramen places: you line up, pay P280 (it serves just one dish), get your noodles, walk a few steps to the high table by the street, then slurp away. The ramen is prepared right before your eyes. Two men methodically pour a rich broth of fats and flavorings over noodles cooked al dente, then top with freshly sliced slabs of roast pork, seaweed and shallots. It was just divine.
While you’re in the Tsukiji area, spend an hour or so in the wet market. It’s gourmet paradise. Everything you love about Japanese cooking is right there — from bonito flakes, pickles, breadcrumbs and fish to rice, mayonnaise, sake and P200 raw oysters. The pubs downtown wouldn’t serve raw oysters because of public health restrictions. So I indulged myself in the most expensive oyster I ever paid for. That mollusk from Hokkaido ranks alongside the sighting of Mount Fuji as one happy Japan memory.
I’ve barely scratched the surface here with regard to eating out in Tokyo. There are more places to talk about like Japanese shabu-shabu at Hassan in Roponggi, Daikanyama’s quaint cafés, more grilled stuff and fresh fruits at Divisoria-like Okachi-machi, or the éclairs and macarons of renowned pastry chef Sadaharu Aoki. But you’ll only get the same platitudes about food from me: Napakasarap. Lahat masarap. Hindi lahat mahal. (This tastes great. Everything just tastes great. You’ll get good deals.)
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You may e-mail the author at boboyconsunji@gmail.com.