Opened in 2015 as a standing bar by the conveyor belt sushi shop of the same name nearby, Hinatomaru built their reputation on offering affordable, good quality fish and toppings. What better place to celebrate an invented tradition than at a sushi bar we love –inexpensive, unpretentious and open on New Year’s Day when most other places are shut? (The A+ tuna head doesn’t hurt, either.)Įvery few minutes, you hear the whoosh of a blowtorch as Murayama or his colleague flame-sears a piece of sushi, the heat coaxing sweet, smoky flavors from the fish. It’s easy to create your own compounds thus, our very own: hatsuzushi, 初寿司. hatsu-yuki (first snow), hatsu-koi (first love) or hatsu-mimi (first ear, or “this is the first I’m hearing of something”). In Japanese, “hatsu” (meaning “first”) can be combined with any number of different kanji/words to mean “first something,” e.g. We decided to forgo the crowded shrine for our own venerable tradition of hatsuzushi: the first sushi of the year. Shepherded by police into a queue spilling out onto the road in front of Kaminarimon Gate, which has been closed off to cars today, they’re here for hatsumōde, the first shrine or temple visit of the new year. Outside, thousands of people bundled in winter coats and kimonos throng the main approach to Sensoji, Tokyo’s oldest Buddhist temple. There are few better places to eavesdrop on conversations than in small bars like this one. It’s noon on the first day of 2022 in Tokyo’s historic Asakusa neighborhood and we find ourselves in Hinatomaru, a casual standing sushi bar. ![]() “Is that so,” the man says, nodding slowly. The idea of this sushi chef snacking on a fluffy pancake stuffed with red bean paste alongside a bottle of finest-grade sake is incongruous, more than a little funny. “Well, I often have dorayaki with my daiginjō,” says Muroyama, placing the finished sushi in front of us. “My son drinks sake while snacking on red bean mochi,” the man adds. ![]() ![]() With sake?” his dining companion says, arching her eyebrows. “That’s not so unusual, red bream,” replies Muroyama, the chef behind the counter, as he shapes a piece of sushi. “Red bream, right?” says the woman eating with him. He and his dining companion are picking away at a few dishes – rounds of steamed monkfish liver, grilled eel slick with sweet sauce, a plate of sushi rolls filled with lean red tuna. There is a small glass set inside a wooden box in front of him, into which the waitress has just poured so much sake it threatens to overflow. “Young people these days, you know, they eat red bean with sake,” announces the man seated next to us.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |