Soba Ra

Soba restaurants are about as common as convenience stores or ramen shops in Japan.  You can find one on almost every corner.  There’s a lot of mediocre soba out there, less good, but great soba is rare.  The difference is cold lifelessly bland noodles dipped in overly sweet MSG-enhanced “soup,” compared to hand kneaded noodles crafted from buckwheat flour ground from the innermost kernel, accompanied by an elegant multi-layered bowl of soy and bonito broth (tsuyu).  The former is something you might eat to fill your stomach (I wouldn’t).  The latter is something you might drive an hour to “experience” (I would).

Here in our little local area of Kodama-gun, we have a great soba restaurant that rivals any more expensive and exclusive Tokyo spots.  And this restaurant has one more thing that is hard to find: a passionate chef who cares more about the food and his customers than he does about his own self-importance.  Kanji Nakatani, gravel-voiced and Polo-clad, is an anomaly in this age.  He puts together a room and his food with a fine-honed esthetic eye, but never loses sight of what it’s all about:  the food and the customers.  And that’s what keeps us going back again and again.  That warm and giving spirit.  And some of the best food I have ever eaten in Japan.

I’ve developed a fairly specialized palate, after living and cooking on an organic farm for the last 20 years in Japan.  When I eat food I can taste the quality (or not) of the ingredients and I can taste the passion (or not) of the chef.   At Soba Ra, I taste both.

On the edge of a cluster of love hotels sits the surprising Soba Ra, nestled up against the hillside and bordered by a bamboo forest.  The construction is traditional Japanese, with Kilim rugs and antique English schoolroom chairs adding a distinct Western flair.  Art Deco lamps hang over an open counter area where “Kanchan” (as he is affectionately called) wields his knife, cutting super fresh, thoughtfully selected sashimi. Kanchan creates custom sashimi plates balancing fish with tsuma.  Tsuma (“wife”) is the traditional vegetable that accompanies sashimi (usually machine slivered daikon or limp shiso leaves).  His daikon is handcut and the tsuma splashes the plate, not just as a nod to tradition, but as a way to celebrate the fish:  boiled greens, wild watercress, green onion, myoga (relative of ginger) and daikon are just a few of the vegetables he might use.

Kanchan cooks from the bottom up, and puts great effort into making the dashi and various soy sauces that form the base of traditional Japanese cooking.  He also cooks for the customer.  How is the weather?  What will people want to eat to warm them or cool them?  This is how he approaches the meal:  with empathy. 

Squares of tamogodofu, a savory egg custard, are flecked with fresh picked crabmeat (never the fake), seasonal greens and enoki mushrooms.  And after taking our last bite, we always pick up the small dishes to slurp up the broth that lingers.  Kanchan uses eggs from Tadaaki’s farm, and of course this adds a certain something to our enjoyment of an already delectable dish.  Tamagodofu is deceptive in its simplicity (as is much of Japanese cuisine), but our homemade attempts have never measured up to Kanchan’s superior rendition.

Soba is not the only reason to come to Ra.  Kanchan is a maniac for fish and his whole cooked fishes are not to be missed.  Some fish he deep-fries and then finishes with dashi flavored with soy sauce and ginger.  Other fish is marinated in miso and broiled (saikyomiso).  All are good.  No, all are great. 

Soba Ra serves a wide range of udon or soba choices from kamo jiru udon (hot duck and vegetable broth soup with wheat noodles) to tororono soba (grated taro root with raw egg and a cold soup for dipping nutty buckwheat noodles).  A departure from his flagship restaurant, Soba Ro, at Ra you can also order donburi dishes such as oyakodon (chicken, onion and egg on rice) or tendon (rice with broth simmered shrimp tempura on top).  But any choice will leave you satisfied, as I have never had a bite of food at Soba Ra (or Ro) that didn’t tantalize my grateful tongue.

 At the end of the meal, stuffed (it’s hard to resist ordering too much as you want to try everything) and completely sated, dessert arrives.  The desserts at Soba Ro have taken a long time to get right, but at Ra things seem to have clicked into place.  The black sugar custards are sweet, but not too; the cakes are moist and tasty while the sorbets strike an elegant balance between sugar and fruit.

It’s not hard to find great looking food in Japan.  This country lives for it.  The eyeball effect is everything.  But it’s not as easy to find food infused with passion or food made with artisanal or organic ingredients.  And it’s really difficult to find food that has all three:  passion, beauty and the best foodstuffs.  Soba Ra and Soba Ro have those.  And that’s rare.

 

 

 

Comments

[Elena Beyers]

Made my mouth water. Hmmm...Now I don't have to worry about what to do with Soba noodles as it seems it would not be worth the effort....Elena

[Nancy Singleton Hachisu]

Elena: Well, I do proscribe to the theory that it is worth waiting for the good one...Nancy

[Mora Chartrand-Grant]

What I wouldn't give to enjoy a meal at Soba Ra. We had handmade soba, from freshly ground grains, while visiting Alex Kerr's Chiiori House a few years back. It was scrumptious! We've also had great soba in Fukuoka. How I wish it was readily available here in the Portland area. Maybe I need to be like The Ramen Girl and head to Japan to find a mentor. I'd be more than willing to swap Belgian home recipes for Nakatani-san's time. Now there's a thought!

[Claire]

Hi Nancy, Another great post. I've never travelled in Japan, and this post made me long to do so. I'd love to find restaurants like that, ones that change your entire perception of what something should be. The dishes that blow you away with the simple preparation, with perfectly attuned garnish and sides that seemed to be waiting for each other. I'm falling for your photography, what a wonderful eye you have. They are much like the country you live in, quietly beautiful, gently direct, with a slight edge of mystery.
I hope you had a great time in Berkeley, I'll be spending some time there in the middle of May. I've eaten many meals at CP, and often think I should just stay across the street and eat there every day!
Maybe sometime we'll be there at the same time and can share stories as well as the meal. Would love to get to know you a bit better if you have time and the inclination for a new friend.

Keep writing!

[Nancy Singleton Hachisu]

Mora: Well, the thing about soba is it's the hardest thing in the kitchen besides (or along with) tempura. But I'm sure Kanchan (or Kai) would be happy to have you watch them make it. At Ro & Ra they have observation windows where the customers can see the rolling operation. Very cool. If things go along as they are, I may still have a little house open for you and Linda to hang and you may be able to wheedle your way into Kanchan's kitchen. I recommend investing in a Japanese noodle rolling & cutting "machine." They're upright and cast iron, we bolt ours to the counter when using. They go for about ¥25,000, but well worth the price. Sometimes you can find them at flea markets, but they often aren't much cheaper. I carried with me another shirt for you and Linda and a few small things, but ended up giving them away (hanging my head now). You know how it is when you jump on the "omiyage train." I'm slow about these things, but never forget. You'll get a care package one day. Guaranteed. Oh, Christopher will be in Portland for about 6 weeks doing a course at L&C from end June to beginning Aug. I may go during that time. Stay tuned. Nancy

Claire: Well, you know you've got a place to stay when you come to Japan. I may not be the person for temple hopping, but good food places I can produce, no problem. That is what I live for. Thank you for your beautiful (and insightful) comments on my photos. Sometimes I am embarrassed when people say they like the photos, especially if I've recently been trolling some of the other food blogger campers' websites (i.e. Todd & Diane's...shoot me please). But I do think my love (and understanding) of my subject (kids, food) comes through and that counts for something, right? Mid May, I'll be in Vietnam doing a cooking class, can't wait (don't tell my husband though, I haven't let the cat out of the bag yet). I'll be thinking of you in Berkeley. It started out that I just stayed in Berkeley because of CP, but now I have friends there and am more entrenched, so it is a bit of both. I thought about the place across the street, but am fond of the Rose Garden Inn on Telegraph. The innkeeper, Kevin, is a great guy and gives good rates. The room by the gate L01 is a steal for what you get (kitchen!, king bed, pull out sofa...and no stairs). I usually go to and fro to the restaurant by cabs (wine, you know), but this time Christopher was the designated driver. Nice. And your timing is impeccable, as I'm working today on my Chez Panisse post. I'd love to share a meal and stories with you there (or over the internet for now). And I love your writing and the blog. Are you going to Blogher? I'm conflicted as Terra Madre is happening in Italy in the end of October and there is a limit, you know. Fennel gratin looked delectable. I think we have some fennel in the field. Thanks. Nancy