In my
youth, all-you-can-eat and chicken teriyaki was what came to mind when thinking
of Japanese cuisine. Boy, have things changed. Now, the word that I associate
with Japanese food is omakase – the
concept of leaving it to the Chef to decide what to eat.
Generally,
omakase menus aren’t the most wallet friendly. At Yukashi, while still pricey,
they attempt to cater to different price points with 4-course ($75), 9-course
($150), and the one-week advanced notice Yukashi menu ($300+). There’s even a la
carte options for those who don’t want to leave their taste buds to chance.
Eight stools flank the bar and kitchen area. These seats around the chef’s table
are definitely the ones to try to reserve. Dinner starts with Chef Daisuke
Izutsu grating wasabi, a noiseless affair until he breaks the silence and tells
us we’re being too quiet. He gets us chatting and warmed up by passing around a
miniature version of the grater so we can try to guess what it’s made from
(inside out shark skin, if you want to sound knowledgeable).
Meanwhile,
Chef Jin Lee tinkers in the kitchen. He doesn’t speak to the group, but is
coordinating the staff within to make sure the hot dishes arrive at a
well-timed pace. Like the warm
deep-fried sesame tofu appetizer that has a chewy soft consistency like mochi, but nutty and savoury. Flavoured with a thick fish
sauce, it’s then topped with yuzu zest and wasabi to give it a fresh element.
Their
“soup” course is actually a hearty chawanmushi,
the egg custard surrounding slices of charred mochi and sweet clams so you’re greeted with different flavours
with every bite. The pea sauce covering everything was a nice spring element
but could be saltier, especially when the crab paste dumpling was also fairly neutral.
Nonetheless, it was a tasty dish.
If
you’ve been to other omakase restaurants in Toronto, generally sashimi and
sushi will follow to finish off the menu. At Yukashi, they serve kaiseki cuisine so while you receive raw
fish, there’s not an ounce of grain accompanying it. Kaiseki strives to use seasonal ingredients to create dishes with
different textures and also highlights its natural flavours. Above all, it’s
recognized for beautiful plating where an ingredient’s colours are used to
create dishes that could be considered an art form.
The otsukuri embodied the concept perfectly
where an array of fishes were dotted across the plate and combined with
painstakingly slivered and twirled garnishes. While it comes with a dish of sweet soy, there’s also ground salt, yuzu zest, juicy seeds (to calm down
the soy’s saltiness), and a host of other items to flavour the seafood.
Three
fish are included: the famed otoro or
cubes of fatty tuna that’s best described as sushi butter; a chewy red snapper;
and the most interesting addition… smoked yellow tail. Cooked over a warayaki stove that uses smouldering
straw, the yellow tail smells like a cigarette butt and even tastes a little
like tobacco. While the flavours can be a bit overpowering (try it last), it’s really
different from other fishes offered. In lieu of ginger, there are potato stems that have a juicy spongy texture and acts as a palette cleanser.
After
having the otoro, their signature
dish pushed my richness quotient to its limit. The uni niku starts with slices of Mizayaki wagyu: one that’s fattier
so it simply melts and a relatively leaner slice that’s more flavourful. If it
weren’t enough, the wagyu is then topped with uni (the creamy insides of a sea urchin) and foie gras. It all gets a good torching so that the fats heat up and
meld together. Then try your best to wrap the glistening tower inside half a shiso leaf, and eat.
Chef
Izutsu notes he got the idea for the signature dish when thinking of something
that would have decadent elements that work together or alone. Indeed, it
smelled amazing and if you like really really
rich items you’re in for a treat. I’m glad there were only two slices … anymore
and I’m not sure my stomach could handle all that fat.
After
having the sashimi platter, I thought we already had the “fish dish”, but then
another intricately assembled seafood platter arrives, even prettier than the otsukuri. They call this the harvest
plate and there’s so much to taste and discover: a cold seafood medley that’s
almost like a ceviche except flavoured with a cherry blossom and sake (?) foam;
marinated shrimp; roasted fish; deep fried bamboo shoot; lotus root; and
skinned tomato. It’s certainly gorgeous to look at, but merely
tastes okay as each element had to be prepared ahead of time so isn’t at its
peak.
Between
the seafood and meat dish, the chef serves the amuse bouche - monk fish liver
with pickled radish. While it looks like it would be another heavy item, the
pickled radish helped to balance the warm liver that tasted like a lighter foie gras. A good bridging bite.
In
seeing the meat dish, I had high hopes that it would be amazing. Something that
contains sakura sticky rice, duck, and egg yolk butter… what?! In reality, it
sounds better than it tastes. We’re instructed to “break” the egg yolk butter
into everything and mix it up. I abstained and broke off pieces and mixed it in
every bite. This was a good call as the yolk really didn’t taste like much and
the oiliness would have been too much. Meanwhile, although the duck had nice
flavours and was tender, I was a bit disappointed that it was so cooked through
that the texture resembled beef.
While
you usually think of tempura as items dunked in a thick batter, at Yukashi it’s
an intricate roll made from tile fish, shrimp, tofu skin and shiso. While it’s deep fried, it’s not
battered so you end up with a relatively light dish, especially with the fruit
sauce that accompanies it. Although I was expecting something savoury and crunchy,
in hindsight, after all the heavier dishes proceeding the tempura, it was nice
to have something delicate.
Likely
the simplest dish of the evening, the rice and dashi soup was also my
favourite. I really needed that umami-filled hot broth that when mixed with the
rice created a congee-like bowl. Restrained elements of kelp, seaweed and
salmon roe kept it hearty and humble. I could have used another bowl.
In
preparation for dessert, Chef Izutsu brings out what looks like a large
cantaloupe. After breaking through the rough exterior, the fruit is pale
green, a shade lighter than honeydew. I had my doubts … fruit for dessert? How
boring. But then, I’ve never heard of a muskmelon.
Yukashi
flies them in from the Shizuoka Prefecture of Japan, where these fruits are so
coveted that people wait for hours and pay upwards of ¥16,000 (or about $200
Canadian dollars) a fruit! They command this price as all the small buds are
removed at the beginning of the season so that each vine only grows one melon.
All the nutrients and resources are directed into one fruit to create the
juiciest and sweetest melon I’ve ever had … so maybe melon is better than red bean mochi
ice cream.
Back to
why I think scoring one of the eight seats around the chef’s table is important
– it’s all about the experience. There are some delicious dishes at Yukashi,
but there are also others that are pretty to look at but tastes satisfactory.
So, what really made the night a success was being able to chat with Chef
Izutsu.
While prepping he’s serious and zoned in. Afterwards, a playful side
comes out and he loves to chat (if you’re a chef, let him know as he’ll want to
visit your restaurant). It's also a shared event with the other guests
sitting around the bar – whether it’s seeing their reaction to dishes or
eavesdropping on their conversation with the Chef. The experience is why omakase is now a phrase that elicit excitement for me.
