In January, during an event held at Nijikichi,
I had the opportunity to work directly with fish from their place of origin.
Harvested in the waters of Imabari, Ehime,
carefully dispatched and temperature-controlled,
these fish carried a tension that could be felt through the knife.
The firmness of the flesh.
The clean fibers that release no excess moisture.
The honest response to heat.
This goes beyond mere “freshness.”
It reflects the accumulated work of sea and people.
While fish from other countries have their own beauty,
I was once again reminded of the unique potential
nurtured by Japanese waters.
To stand in the field,
to handle the fish firsthand—
is to quietly renew oneself as a chef.
“Grilling the difference is also a way of renewing oneself.”
Last week, I had the opportunity to take part in an event hosted by
Ebisu Endo × Ebisu by Kobos in Madrid.
On that occasion,
I grilled Japanese eel and European eel side by side over charcoal.
The European eel was farm-raised—
the very kind I had studied during my visit to Spain.
The other was a type I am more accustomed to working with.
Different species mean different structures—
bone composition, skin thickness, fat quality.
Even though both are called “eel,”
they respond to fire in completely different ways.
This time, the environment was also different from Japan—
the air, humidity, grill structure, and the charcoal itself.
Unlike the binchotan I usually use,
the character of the fire—its rise and stability—was subtly different.
How the fat renders.
How the skin tightens.
The exact moment to turn.
The same heat does not produce the same result.
It was technically demanding,
yet deeply educational.
Observing eel farming facilities in Spain—
the management of water temperature, circulation, and density—
as well as seeing wild eel being air-dried by the water,
added further perspective.
To understand the species.
To understand the water.
To understand the environment.
Cooking begins long before standing in front of the fire.
Grilling the difference is also a way of renewing oneself.
That renewal will quietly be reflected in the next plate.
It may feel unusual for a chef to speak about wine.
Traditionally, wine belongs to the realm of sommeliers.
Yet as a chef, I find myself drawn first not to the bottle, but to the vineyard.
Before the grapes, I look at the soil.
The stones, the dryness of the earth, the way the wind moves through the rows.
It is the same instinct I have when I look at the sea before choosing fish.
Cuisine is the accumulation of ingredients.
Wine, too, is the accumulation of a place.
What rests quietly in the barrel reflects not only technique, but philosophy.
Without understanding that philosophy,
one cannot truly speak about harmony with food.
When you stand with the grower,
touch the soil,
and breathe the air of the vineyard before lifting the glass,
the contours of the wine become clearer.
Why does a chef speak about wine?
Because wine, like cuisine,
is an expression of land and people.
In a quiet street of Vosne-Romanée,
Domaine Méo-Camuzet stands with quiet dignity.
The name carved into its stone walls carries the weight of time—
a history deeply rooted in this land.
Jean-Nicolas Méo is known as a strict, serious,
and profoundly classical winemaker.
During our visit, what impressed us most was the way he spoke—
carefully, patiently, and in remarkable detail
about each parcel, its history, and its structure.
His explanations seemed almost endless,
yet never excessive.
It felt instead like a sincere desire
to make us truly understand the land.
The 2022 vintage is a year of maturity.
The fruit reached full ripeness,
yet the wines are neither sweet nor heavy.
They are defined by clarity, structure, and tension.
Strict in youth,
but clearly built for time.
Not about immediate pleasure,
but about architecture and longevity.
The philosophy of Méo-Camuzet
reveals itself quietly—
yet unmistakably—
in the glass.
The other day, I visited Sendai
and spent time engaging with ingredients from Miyagi.
Early in the morning at the Sendai Central Wholesale Market,
tuna landed in Shiogama moved through auction, processing, and distribution.
Standing there, I was able to sense the atmosphere of that process firsthand.
Seeing how a single fish is handled,
and in what condition it reaches the kitchen,
offered a moment to reflect on how we engage with ingredients.
Markets, producers, and cooks.
Each plays a role, and their work quietly connects to one plate.
I take this experience in, calmly and thoughtfully.
Late Ming dynasty, circa 1620–1640.
Kosome-tsuke porcelain fired in Jingdezhen, China.
At that time in Jingdezhen,
alongside wares made for the imperial court,
there were vessels specially commissioned for Japan.
The lines are not perfectly uniform,
the brushwork free and almost improvisational.
Yet each piece holds food with quiet generosity
and a deep sense of balance.
Even after four hundred years,
they remain naturally present
as vessels meant to face cuisine itself.
A dish is not completed on the plate.
It begins the moment we face the vessel.
Nearly four hundred years ago,
sometsuke porcelain was fired in Jingdezhen during the late Ming period.
Its lines and spaces, born for everyday use, remain quietly present today.
These vessels do not speak loudly.
They receive, and they support.
The surface begins to breathe —
the porcelain and the brushwork revealing themselves in time.
Not to decorate cuisine,
but to move alongside it through centuries.
The reason these vessels have endured
reveals itself in that quiet presence.
During my time in Burgundy,
I visited Domaine Georges Roumier.
Tasting the wines in the cellar was not simply about assessing flavors,
but about engaging with the philosophy and attitude behind them.
Guided by Christophe Roumier’s gentle, thoughtful,
and deeply passionate explanations,
the tasting of the 2023 vintage from barrel
naturally extended to more than three hours.
Through his words and demeanor,
one could clearly sense the sincerity and dedication
he brings to his work.
The reason these wines are loved by so many around the world
lies not only in their quality,
but also in the character of the person who makes them.
Wine reflects not only land and time,
but also the humanity of its maker —
a truth that this visit once again affirmed.
From May to June 2024,
I traveled through France,
visiting wine producers primarily in Burgundy,
as well as the Rhône and Champagne regions.
Standing in the vineyards, stepping into the cellars,
and listening closely to the voices of the winemakers,
I was given the opportunity to deeply understand
the land, the passage of time, and the philosophy behind each wine.
During this journey, I tasted the 2022 2023 vintage—
mainly from barrel, and in some cases from bottle—
while learning about the ideas and intentions that shape each wine.
As the 2023 vintage begins to be released this year,
I would like to gradually share what I saw, heard,
and truly felt during these visits.
Beyond the wines themselves,
I hope to bring the mindset and values behind them
into my daily work.
Today, we attended “Bi ni Fureru,”
a lecture and tea gathering hosted by Kajiko Art in Kyoto.
Through antique vessels and the practice of tea,
we had the opportunity to learn about history, proper handling,
and the meaning found in each mindful movement.
Preparing matcha in distinguished tea bowls reminded us that
true beauty lies not in form, but in how we engage with what is before us.
These experiences quietly shape the way our entire team works and moves each day.
We continue to value learning through steady, thoughtful practice.
Recently, our team visited Aramasa Brewery,
one of the sake producers we deeply respect.
Beyond technical knowledge, we were inspired by the philosophy,
dedication, and passion behind their craftsmanship.
At Goryu Kubo, we serve sake with great care —
from glassware selection to precise temperature control —
so that each bottle can be enjoyed at its best.
We continue to pursue a dining experience
that leaves our guests with a genuine sense of satisfaction.
We are seeking a Head Chef for a Japanese shabu-shabu–focused restaurant in Los Angeles—
a project in which our company is proudly involved as a key partner.
The position is scheduled to begin in March 2026.
You will receive full support throughout your relocation, and with Japanese staff on-site, even those taking on an overseas role for the first time will find a reassuring and supportive environment.
Details regarding responsibilities and compensation will be discussed during the interview.
If you are interested, please feel free to send us a DM.
We look forward to hearing from you.