Continued, Tokyo New Wave

Kotaro Meguro is all smiles when he opens the door to greet me. His gelled and tousled auburn hair and strong facial contours are befitting of an anime character or rock star. Wearing a chef jacket seems too conservative for him.

His drive and boundless energy are indisputable. At just thirty years old, Meguro is one of the youngest Tokyo chefs to own a restaurant, and he admits that he is highly competitive. What pushes him each day in the kitchen is the desire to be better than his colleagues and mentors. He is an alum of Quintessence, where he worked alongside the formidable Shuzo Kishida (this page), with whom he enjoys a true friendship today. His seafood-only restaurant, Abysse, earned its first Michelin star just six months after opening. Upon hearing the news, Meguro took to Facebook, and with a dash of defiance declared that one star was absolutely not enough.

Meguro is a tour de force of conviction and zeal; his dreams can’t wait and must be realized now. As the father of two young daughters, he is also open, playful, and accommodating. On Instagram, he shows me photos of his family at birthday parties, ice skating, and grabbing Sunday treats at his favorite bakery. He welcomes me into the kitchen within minutes of my arrival. Perhaps it is his youth, but his lack of rigidity or hesitation is refreshing.

Abysse is a polished, petite space with a prominent bar, walls painted in shades of blue to reflect the water and seafood theme, and a young, efficient staff. I started with a shirako (cod milt) fish cracker with hazelnut crumble, followed by a stunning turnip, crab, and fromage blanc creation that was so artfully plated that the couple next to me gasped. A solitary bisque ball exploded in my mouth, with a rush of potent lobster flavor. And for dessert, his elevated reinterpretation of rice pudding—stuffed half-moon pillows of rice with sake and pistachio—was plated in a cascade of pale yellow, lime green, and white. Meguro’s dishes were consistently delicate, visually arresting, and even blissful.

Meguro comes out from the kitchen to see me. With his usual bright smile, he is keen to know what I liked most. With a meal like that, I tell him that there is no doubt he is on track to realize each and every one of his dreams.

My grandfather was a chef in Shinbashi; he had his own kappo [traditional Japanese restaurant] there. I really, really loved my grandfather, especially when he was cooking. He passed away when I was seven. I wasn’t interested in the food because I was too young, but I just remember how fascinated I was watching him in the kitchen.

Small things from my daily life. Like when I’m having tea, I’ll suddenly think what would it be like to make consommé with tea.

I like red wine and bonito, blue cheese and red wine; they all go together well, so this will be a new dish. Bonito is in season right now. I made blue cheese powder, grilled the bonito, and added some walnuts and raisins.

I change my dishes depending on the season. I change little by little over time. I really can’t stand cooking the same dishes all the time. I can’t always have the same things.

I wanted to do something that no one was doing. And I love fish; I’m good at cooking fish.

Other chefs really, like Hiroyasu Kawate [this page]. Also Shuzo Kishida [this page], who I used to work for, motivate me. I feel that if I focus on fish, perhaps I can become better than they are one day. I am eager to improve and advance in my career. I can see what I am going to become, and that my food is getting better and better.

I loved karaage [fried chicken], especially from my grandfather. I can still remember the taste of it. I was in Yokohama, about four or five years old. My grandfather really liked to drink, so my family often went to a favorite izakaya to eat. The karaage was from this izakaya. I would always sit next to my grandfather, and he would share his karaage with me.

I wanted to work in a three-Michelin–starred restaurant in France. I wrote to them all—forty of them—and Le Petit Nice replied. Some others did, too, but I accepted the first one that replied. I stayed for one year. Le Petit Nice focused on the love of fish. Working at this restaurant helped me decide that I wanted to focus on seafood when I came back to Japan.

Our attention to detail. Everything we create is so detailed, and I am proud of this.

When I was thinking about creating a bite-size Japanese-style dish, I came up with the idea of making takoyaki (a ball-shaped snack made of wheat flour, usually stuffed with octopus), which I always enjoy. I thought it would be interesting for the dish to look like Japanese takoyaki, but taste like French lobster bisque.

FISH STOCK

2 pounds red sea bream or red snapper bones and heads

2 tablespoons sea salt

2 quarts plus 8½ cups water

LOBSTER BISQUE

8 lobster heads (see Note)

3 tablespoons olive oil, plus more for sautéing

1 onion, cut into ¾-inch cubes

1 carrot, peeled and cut into ¾-inch cubes

1 celery stalk, cut into ¾-inch cubes

1 shallot, cut into ¾-inch cubes

3 cloves garlic, minced

2 tablespoons tomato paste

1 cup white wine

2 tablespoons Cognac

Sea salt

BISQUE BALLS

¼ cup plus 1 tablespoon cake flour

2 tablespoons grated Japanese yam

1 teaspoon baking powder

½ beaten egg

1 teaspoon white soy sauce

½ teaspoon sea salt

Olive oil, for cooking

3 tablespoons chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley

To make the fish stock, place the fish bones and heads in a large bowl, sprinkle with the salt, and let sit for 10 minutes.

To remove the fishy odor of the bones, bring 2 quarts of the water to a boil. Pour the water over the fish bones and heads and drain.

Place the fish bones and heads and the 8½ cups water into a large stockpot and bring to a boil over medium heat. When the water just starts to boil, turn the heat to low and skim off any scum. Cook for 30 minutes. Strain the stock through a fine-mesh sieve into a bowl, discard the solids, and set aside.

To make the bisque, remove lobster meat from the shells. Be sure to remove the sand sac. Finely chop the little bit of lobster meat you have, including from the legs.

In a Dutch oven, pour just enough olive oil to coat the bottom of the pan and heat over medium heat. Add the lobster meat and sauté for 10 minutes, until most of the juices have cooked off. Add the onion, carrot, celery, shallot, garlic, tomato paste, and remaining 3 tablespoons olive oil and cook for about 3 minutes more, until the vegetables visibly soften and become translucent. Add the white wine and Cognac and simmer until most of the liquid has evaporated. Add 5 cups of the fish stock and simmer for 20 minutes more, until reduced by half. Strain the bisque through a fine-mesh sieve and discard the solids.

Return the bisque to a clean pot, bring to a simmer, and cook until it has been reduced to 1 cup, 10 to 20 minutes. Season with sea salt to taste. Let cool to room temperature and set aside.

To make the bisque balls, combine the lobster bisque, cake flour, yam, baking powder, egg, soy sauce, and salt in a bowl and stir together with a spoon. Cover the batter and refrigerate overnight.

The next day, transfer the batter to a liquid measuring cup. Coat a takoyaki pan with olive oil and warm the pan over medium heat. Working in batches, pour about 1 tablespoon batter into each hole in the pan to fill to about three-fourths full. Cook until the bottoms are golden brown, 2 to 3 minutes. Turn them with a metal skewer and cook until the other sides are golden brown, about 2 minutes more. Transfer the balls to a bowl by removing them from the pan with a skewer. Keep warm while you cook the remaining balls, oiling the pan again if needed.

Place 3 to 5 balls on each plate and sprinkle chopped parsley on top. Serve immediately.

NOTE: A takoyaki pan is required for this recipe. You will need to start one day ahead to make the stock and bisque and then let the batter sit overnight. In Japan, lobster heads refer to the front section of the lobster that includes the legs, but not the claw. If you can’t get those, use the meat from four lobster tails, chopped, instead.