Continued, Tokyo New Wave

I once had dinner at L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon at the Four Seasons Hotel in New York City when Yosuke Suga was the head chef. Ten years later, I am zipping around Tokyo with him in his silver Porsche Carrera. Jazz is playing. It is about 6:30 p.m. and there is traffic in Omotesando driving toward Shinjuku.

Suga is focused and ambitious—very ambitious. He is driven to be the best and will admit to as much. During a sixteen-year stint working for Joël Robuchon, he lived in both Paris and New York City. His introduction-only restaurant, Sugalabo, in Azabudai, is a success, as is a booming catering business for luxury brands. Suga is a multitasker who is focused on his desire to do more, create more, be more. His urbane and refined sensibility is front and center.

The secret entrance to Sugalabo lies behind a camouflaged door in a coffee bar. By day, it is a tiny kiosk manned by just one staff member who sells housemade madeleines and coffee. By night, it becomes the foyer to an exclusive dinner club. On my first visit in December, I feel along a wall to find a handle. I push it and enter an elegant kitchen—the restaurant itself. It is a hushed and luxurious speakeasy sparkling with copious hanging brass pots, flickering gas candlelight, and crackling fireplaces.

Suga personally presents every course, explaining the provenance of each ingredient and the concept behind each dish. He speaks purposefully, frowning, deliberating every word before it exits his mouth. He commands the room with an eaglelike precision; nothing that is done or not done escapes his notice.

At the front of the restaurant, framed photos of Suga’s grandfather are displayed atop shelves of culinary books. There is a distinct resemblance between Suga and the man in the maritime black-and-white photos. His grandfather was a European cuisine chef aboard a luxury ship, and has long been a source of inspiration for Suga—a compass, a point of reference. When Suga speaks of his grandfather, I sense a tinge of melancholy, perhaps a bit of longing.

Suga often travels throughout Japan discovering new products and deepening relationships with farmers and purveyors. This mission, this immersion into Japan, is part of Suga’s identity. Despite having lived abroad for many years and a love for far-flung places, or perhaps because of it, he is drawn, from deep within his soul, to live in Japan now. It is where he feels most deeply connected. This comes across when dining at Sugalabo, where these themes of identity, of longing, of beauty, and of discovery are presented in Suga’s way, with both love and luxury.

So I can express myself. I like to express my savoir faire. I like restaurants; they’re not only about food. They’re to make people feel pleasure. Everything I do now is so I can find something to do that is exciting. Life is only lived once; I don’t want it to be boring.

Also, the memory of my grandfather motivates me. I think my family is the most important thing in my life. I like to bring pleasure to my guests, but originally, all of this was to bring pleasure to my family. An homage to my grandfather brings pleasure to my father. I don’t have a lot of memories of my grandfather—I didn’t have his food when he was alive, cooked by him. But I have lots of memories in my father’s restaurant where they cooked my grandfather’s recipes. My grandfather cooked yōshoku [Western food adapted to Japanese taste] with a bit of French influence. That was many years ago, at the time when products like foie gras were not available here yet. At the time, it was impossible to do real French food, but he did and was avant-garde at the time. It was the Belle Époque—the time of Charlie Chaplin, Helen Keller. They were actually guests on the luxury ship that he worked on, which sailed from Kobe to San Francisco. He cooked for them.

So I could have an expanded culinary and life experience. At twenty-one years old, I was still young. I knew I had a lot to learn. I could get complacent without a master. I wanted to go to France because I am romantic, like many chefs who cook French food. The nuances in Japanese culture are very different than those in France or Italy. People here dream of living in France and Italy. I was realistic but romantic and wanted to go to France to be different; I wanted to discover real French cuisine in France with Robuchon at his small laboratory. Only two or three chefs worked for him. I had a special opportunity.

I started working with him when I was twenty-one years old. He was considered one of the very best chefs in the world. Even chef of the century. At age forty-nine, he had already retired and closed his fine dining restaurant, Joël Robuchon, in the 16th arrondissement in Paris to open his laboratory, a place where chefs could experiment and devise new recipes. I worked with him there and on his French television show.

Then, at age sixty, Robuchon decided to open restaurants again, starting with L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon in various cities. The Ateliers had a huge counter, tapas-style, with the look of a sushi counter and an open kitchen, which is rare in Europe but popular in Japan. I came to Roppongi Hills by myself at twenty-four to open Tokyo’s L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon. I then opened others, and stayed with him until I was thirty-seven years old.

I am a bit more independent. I have a different vision of what a restaurant should be and the possibilities of food and restaurants. Stars and rankings are not my goal. I don’t like being classified or branded by others. I think it’s important to be independent and respected, and to have my own approach to my branding.

My grandfather was already gone, but my dad kept his restaurant, Kobe-ya, in Nagoya. I remember always sitting in the corner there with a little stuffed animal and I would have sautéed pork with ginger sauce and beef stroganoff.

Morals. Character. My respect for the trees and the flowers and the seasons—it’s part of the spirit of Japan. Shintoism. Gods in everything. I also respect many religions.

I am not typically Japanese. I am not timid. I am a bit aggressive. I am perhaps an optimist. I am open and can be assertive. I also have aFrench side. I am a realist. I am pretty direct.

The ingredients, most of which are from Japan. In Japanese culture, if you use Japanese ingredients that are seasonal, from this particular geography, it means cooking more and more deeply in the style of Japanese cuisine. Sea bass, for example, is different in each country. Just as good, but different. When you cook it here, the sea bass texture is different. You have to think about and consider the products and how they react and behave. Then it becomes less French and more Japanese. You must understand local ingredients.

Right now, I don’t think there is anyone in the culinary world who translates and presents Japanese food culture abroad, as it should be presented. One day I would like to be a kind of ambassador bringing foreigners, and also Japanese, to  the many regions of Japan. So many young people live in the big cities exclusively. I would like to bring more people to small villages and farms to discover the traditions of Japanese food culture. I also came back to Japan to do something different from others chefs. I would like to open a restaurant abroad, but I want this to be my base now.

Konatsu, a grapefruitlike citrus, was in season when I came up with this recipe. I was traveling in Kochi with Shiraki-san, the farmer. I walked around his farm with him; his product is beautiful. The dessert is light after the meal, and I like the name. Coconuts and konatsu are similar in sound and also work well together.

CITRUS FRUIT SYRUP

1¼ cups water

5 tablespoons granulated sugar

2 tablespoons glucose syrup

1½ lemongrass stalks, chopped

½ vanilla bean, split lengthwise and scraped with a knife

1 star anise

1 strip orange zest

1 strip lemon zest

COCO-LYCHEE SORBET

½ cup plus 1 tablespoon water

¼ cup granulated sugar

2 teaspoons glucose syrup

2 teaspoons trimoline

⅓ teaspoon ice cream stabilizer

1 cup frozen coconut puree

1 tablespoon Dita (lychee liqueur)

KONATSU CONFIT AND KONATSU CHIPS

10 whole frozen konatsu or fresh oranges, or 5 grapefruits

½ cup granulated sugar

⅓ cup plus 1 tablespoon water

Confectioners’ sugar, to sprinkle

10 lychees, peeled, pitted, and halved

5 tablespoons small flakes of gold foil, for garnish

To make the syrup, combine the water, granulated sugar, and glucose syrup in a small saucepan and bring to a boil. Remove from the heat. Add the lemongrass, vanilla seeds and pod, star anise, orange zest, and lemon zest. Let infuse for 20 minutes. Strain through a fine-mesh sieve into a bowl and let cool. Discard the solids.

To make the sorbet, combine the water, granulated sugar, glucose syrup, and trimoline in a pot and cook over medium heat. Before it reaches a boil (do not allow it to come to a boil), remove from the heat, add the ice cream stabilizer, and mix well. Let cool, then add the coconut puree and stir. Add the Dita and stir again. Freeze sorbet in an ice cream maker for 20 minutes.

To make the konatsu confit, peel the rind from half of the konatsu and julienne. Combine the granulated sugar and water in a pot and bring to a simmer over medium-low heat. Add the julienned rind and simmer until the peel becomes transparent, 30 to 40 minutes. Drain and let cool.

To make the konatsu chips, preheat a convection oven to 165°F or a regular oven to 200°F. Peel the remaining konatsu and remove any zest from the fruit. Cut each konatsu in half, then into thick slices. Arrange on baking sheets in a single layer and sprinkle with confectioners’ sugar. Bake until completely crystallized and dried out, about 2 hours with a convection oven, 4 hours with a regular oven.

For each serving, place 1 tablespoon of the syrup, three pieces of the konatsu confit, and half of a lychee in a glass bowl. Shape 1 heaping tablespoon of the sorbet into a quenelle and place on top. Top with one konatsu chip and sprinkle with ¼ teaspoon gold foil flakes. Serve right away.

NOTE: Konatsu comes frozen in Japan, but you can use fresh grapefruit or orange instead. You can buy a canned ice cream stabilizer on some cooking sites; otherwise, substitute with cornstarch, guar gum, arrowroot, or carrageenan (but all have mixed results). Coconut puree is available on Amazon and other online stores.