After sending off blister-suffering Pierre to the hotel by taxi, Yasuko and I strolled in a quiet lantern-lit stone-paved quarter to the Yasaka Shrine. The crowd of daytime tourists was gone by the time and the area very atmospheric. The shrine was illuminated by lots of paper lanterns as some Japanese were coming by to pray at night.
The Kyoto night life was in full swing. On the way back to the hotel there were zillions of attractive bars and restaurants so many that we couldn’t visit them all in a lifetime!
It’s very unlikely we would have known this restaurant if it wasn’t recommend by Yasuko’s friend Mayumi, a food fanatic who travels hundreds of miles for a good meal and who, unfortunately, couldn’t join us. It would have been close to impossible to find that hidden gem in the picturesque backyard of Ishibei-kōji without our friendly guido-san Yasuko.
But then we stood in front of Mame-cha. A pretty, old building, lit like any other, with just a small sign in Kanji on the left. That’s it. No big banner shouting at you to get in, no menu open for your evaluation in front of the door. No plastic food display. Nothing of the usual stuff at all. Originally, restaurants in this area accepted guests based on recommendation by existing clients only. It has changed since. Yasuko hesitated two seconds as she wasn’t sure if we were at the right place. That was enough for the sliding door to open and for the host to bow followed by the usual “Irashaimase” (welcome).
A (food) journey was about to start.
Food experiences are hard to put in words. But we all agreed, that this was probably the most refined meal, with attention to every detail, without overdoing it, we remember. Prime raw material turned into a series of sublime dishes. The pictures speak for themselves.
We were just knocked out. Next Time in Kyoto, we will go again.
Funny little side story: We were sharing the room with a Paris loving Japanese Facebook group. The room got a bit quiet when we started to talk in French among us. After a while, one group member had the courage to talk to us in French, which is very rare in Japan, we exchanged a couple of sentences and, not that rare in Japan, restaurant recommendations.
Yuba (Tofu Skin)
The check-in procedure is typically accompanied by a couple of nervous “oh-oh-ohs” when the host sees the size of my shoes and my length. A couple of seconds later, “beam me up Scotty” style, she’s back with slippers I can get at least half my foot in and a Yukata in super oversize. From then on it’s just about not bumping my head everywhere 🙂