February 12, 2010

TORONTO LIFE MAGAZINE

Our most recent review for 2010!

                                In August of 2007,

Masaki Hashimoto had entered into Japan's firsttype of

culinary arts competition called

Japanese Culinary Arts Compeition.

There, he had represented Kyoto city and February of 2008.

With 11 of the top chefs across fromJapan gathering to Kyoto

city where the final competition isto take place,

Hashimoto was in the top 11 finalists.

With ablack box concept, the chefs did not know what

materials were available for their use until the start.

Hashimoto hadsuccessfully finished the competition as one of

the 5 topchefs in Japan, and was awarded with the

Technique PrizeAward.

Using his signature item, the crane carved out of

Daikon radish in the competition, you can experience his

master piece works for the dinner course.

TORONTO STAR

Domo arigato,

Mr. Hashimoto

(Five Stars) ✰✰✰✰✰

Once upon a time there was a shogun, a ruthless warlord who rose from common foot soldier to ruler of Japan. Like other newly made men, he hired an image consultant to polish the rough edges, give him some class.

The advisor was Sen no Rikyu, a Zen master known for his exquisitely simple taste. With the shogun as patron, Rikyu popularized the tea ceremony, a slow-moving ritual meant to embody quiet, solitude, harmony and respect.

(Well, some respect. After a 20-year partnership, the shogun ordered Rikyu to commit suicide in 1591, for unclear reasons.)

And from the tea ceremony was born kaiseki cuisine, a refined style of eating that emphasizes seasonal foods and beautiful presentation.

You can eat wonderful kaiseki dinners in Kyoto, birthplace of the tea ceremony. Or in Mississauga, of all places, at a tiny outcrop of Japan called Hashimoto.

If your idea of Japanese food is cucumber sushi, then Hashimoto isn't for you. Multi-course set dinners � priced at $50, $80 or $100 a person � are built around such imported ingredients as matsutake, fat pine mushrooms, and the eel-like fish hamo (conger pike). In winter, there will be snapping turtle soup.

Artisanal ceramics and carved vegetable garnishes make each meal at Hashimoto a feast for the eyes as well as the taste buds. Add to that seamless service, unique d�cor and an array of flavours and textures and you get one of the most extraordinary dining experiences going, which is why it merits my first five-star rating. It takes four hours to eat 11 courses; the time or money couldn't be better spent.

Not that Hashimoto is a "dress-up" restaurant. It sits in a desolate strip plaza near the airport, where the only other Japanese presence in the area is the Kawasaki motorcycle dealership down the street.

Short fabric curtains frame the sliding door. Inside, Japanese paper panels glow in the bar while a nightscape twinkles above. Chopsticks, wrapped in gold paper and tied with a red cord, anchor each place setting.

(About half the customers are Japanese, but all dishes come with English explanations.)

There isn't much that chef/owner Masaki Hashimoto can't make taste good. Even minced fish guts, which he tosses with sesame-ginger vinaigrette.

"Maybe you haven't tried this before, so if you don't like it I won't be worried," demurs Sachiko, the hostess and Hashimoto's wife, as she proffers a small reddish mound.

We eat the whole delicious bowlful, which tastes mainly of dressing. After this, the warm service becomes downright personal. Sachiko shares her grilled eggplant recipe while the chef not only recommends a Tokyo restaurant for our trip to Japan, he prints an Internet map to guide us.

Hashimoto trained as a chef in Kyoto and Tokyo after graduating from art school. He arrived in Canada almost 20 years ago, working at Nami Japanese Seafood Restaurant and as a caterer. Kaiseki lets him combine his talents as an artist and as a chef. In the year-and-a-half since opening his restaurant, he's been taking pictures of each dish to e-mail to guests � and for his own records.

"No one ever gets the same menu twice," he says.

It would be hard to top the $100 showstopper of our first visit. Sachiko carries out an open wicker basket. Inside is a still life of chewy sesame ball, salmon caviar, three perfect fava beans and butterflied shrimp broiled with egg yolk.

Like Godzilla demolishing Tokyo, we consume everything put in front of us yet don't feel stuffed. There are slices of raw monkfish with citrus dipping sauce. Delicate broth studded with slices of hamo, cedar-smelling matsutake and thick seaweed.

Then comes a brazier filled with glowing charcoal. On top, a wire screen holds a straw-wrapped package. Inside are more matsutake mushrooms (the Japanese go mad for them) sandwiching batons of sea urchin-flavoured fish cake. It is an edible juxtaposition; briny yet earthy, soft yet springy.

Next is a delicious symphony of slime. Texture is big in Japan; a favourite vegetable is yamaimo, or mountain potato, which when grated raw is indistinguishable from snot. Here, a gorgeously carved radish ball, looking like a dim sum dumpling, is filled with chopped shrimp and grated yamaimo with the consistency and temperature of barely warmed egg whites (better than the snot-like taste at many other restaurants). Sliced okra adds another layer of gelatinousness.

In a meal of highlights, there's one dish that stands out: chawan mushi, or custard steamed in a hollowed-out lemon. We inhale the aroma released when the lemon "lid" is lifted off. The custard is light yet creamy, studded with cubed chicken, vegetables and seafood and infused with citric flavour. It's so good I don't want to sip any more tea for fear of diluting the lingering flavours in my mouth.

Afterwards there are pinwheels of hamo and brown soba (buckwheat) noodles, cut into circles and fried as tempura.

The meal ends in the traditional Japanese manner: pickles, rice and soup. In this case, the pickles are made from crunchy, lacy lotus root perched above smoky grilled eggplant and yellow miso.

Rice and soup are combined along with sweet chunks of ayu, a river trout traditionally caught with trained cormorants. Sachiko says we can have as much as we like. Two bowls later, we're sated, ready for our dessert of peach jelly. (Etiquette-wise, seconds are fine but not thirds.)

The $50 menu uses less expensive ingredients but Hashimoto doesn't skimp on presentation nor on the number of courses, which total eight at a recent dinner.

It's equally seasonal, built around an autumn pumpkin theme. We start with baby pumpkins filled with butter saut�ed enoki mushrooms, their earlobe texture much prized in Japan. Alongside are shrimp stuffed with pumpkin pur�e and another Japanese favourite, bitter gingko nuts.

There are slices of sweet sea bream sashimi; hamo and okra soup; a nest of deep-fried somen (wheat) noodles filled with smoked salmon and sweet-salty corn fritters; taro-filled squash; hamo rolled with warm soba and seaweed; pickles; and rice steamed with pumpkin. We end with miniature scoops of homemade green tea ice cream served with stewed apples to offset the tea's bitterness.

We're the only ones in the restaurant. Hashimoto, who works alone in the kitchen, requests guests reserve at least one day in advance. We leave with a heartfelt "Gochisosama deshita." (Thank you, that was delicious.)

It's a simple choice: dinner at Hashimoto or $1,500 for an airline ticket to Japan. Same excellent food. Far closer location.