Japan July 2016 Thursday

Thursday we were treated to an amazing kaiseki meal at a six-seat restaurant.   The reservation process was a little complex. A guy from the museum called for the reservation because he's a regular. Turns out that there was already a reservation for *one*, and we were already a party of six. But the guy who had the reservation was a friend of the guy from the museum, so the museum guy persuaded him to eat there on another night. We had our kaiseki meal after all.

Let the deliciousness begin! 

This photo shows a cube of savory something, topped by a pickled yuzu bud. The champagne flute to the left contains some lobstery fluid with seaweed.

Sashimi of various fishes served with their respective livers:

 While waiting on us and preparing other dishes at a *furious* pace, the chef was also tending to the grill on the left, which had a heat source under what looked like Spanish roof tiles.

This plate was complex -- two nubbins of pickled ginger that the chef had grown and pickled himself. Two chunks of cod miso yaki, a gigantic scallop and some sort of scallop pudding that was the best thing we ate all night (right up there with the lobstery liquid).

In this photo, our chef is putting the final touches on filet mignon.

The pace went on unabated, and we were filling up fast. It was a little intimidating, because the chef was pouring his heart and soul into these dishes and they keep coming. Some, like the sashimi of fish and their livers, were quite rich. I think there's one dish I didn't even photograph! Here is the filet, with a huge chunk of fois gras, a potato and a gigantoid mushroom. It arrived bloody rare. So huge. I felt trapped. Everything was delicious but I thought I'd pop.

Finally, the end. White peach season was upon us, and the white peaches in Nagasaki were delicious. White peaches, white peach ice cream and something else -- maybe white peach gelee? 

 
We waddled home, petted Pudding and had another excellent conversation with Pudding's mama. We hugged a lot that night. I missed my own mama, so it was nice to hug a willing, toothless old lady (even if she did slap me in the boob and call me fat earlier in the week).