A new Michelin Guide for Tokyo in 2024 dropped last week, just in time for me to wrap things up here with “The Michelin Files.” This will be my last installment for the time being, but it’s focused on two of my favorite Japanese foods, yakitori and curry. Due to its proximity to a certain yakitori restaurant, I’ll also circle back to where I started with this series — sushi — and talk about one famous restaurant in town that might be impossible for anyone but a head of state to book.
Unfortunately, curry suffers somewhat in the new Michelin Guide, which has removed the dumpling (gyoza) and curry sorting categories for some reason. In addition, all three of Tokyo’s 1-star ramen restaurants have now been demoted to the Bib Gourmand level. For some noodle lovers, this may be as much a shock to the senses as a bite of delicious ramen.
It seems like these changes are less a reflection on specific restaurants and more a reflection of Michelin’s changing preferences overall. Maybe they’ve got new restaurant inspectors out in the field who aren’t as keen on Japanese soul food and want to bring the guide back to its fine dining roots. I sometimes wonder how big a factor the ambiance of a restaurant is in their ratings, compared to the actual food.
To remove or demote an entire category of food seems suspect, and it just makes me realize all the more how subjective Michelin’s ratings (or anyone’s ratings) of food are. Of course, it’s all a matter of taste — literally — but if you’re looking to get started with some yakitori and curry restaurants that have been featured in the Michelin Guide Tokyo past and present, then here are two options for the former and one option for the latter.
Yakitori Omino in Sumida
At present, there are only two restaurants in Tokyo where you can dine on Michelin-starred yakitori (tori meaning “bird,” and yaki meaning “grilled,” for the uninitiated). One is Torishiki, which was the first ever to receive a star, but which is harder to reserve, in part because they don’t do online reservations. That’s not a problem with Yakitori Omino, run by Chef Masayoshi Komino, who trained for six years at Torishiki before striking out on his own in Sumida.
This is where I dined that one night back in October when I shared some photo highlights of the Skytree after dark. It’s near Oshiage Station on the Asakusa Line, but I got out at Honzo-Azumabashi Station to visit Infinity Books first.
It was quite a new experience for me because I didn’t realize until I sat down that there’s no accompanying food menu at Yakitori Omino, only a drink menu. When I read the Michelin entry about it, where it says they’re in the habit of “keeping the skewers coming until the customer says ‘stop’,” it didn’t fully register with me what that meant. And when I made my reservation via Omakase, I was more focused on where it showed the basic fee next to “Chef’s Tasting Course.”
At the time, it was ¥8,000, but now it’s up to ¥10,000. This is only a base estimate, and the fine print right below that notes, “The price will vary depending on the number of pieces served.”
At Yakitori Omino, they serve the skewers one at a time like they would at any upscale counter, and roughly half the ones I received were vegetable skewers. It wasn’t all just different cuts of chicken. Alas, the lighting wasn’t the best, and they weren’t always prompt about cleaning the plate or providing a fresh one between courses. One of my plates also had a discoloration on it, so these aren’t necessarily the best food pictures.
At the end, there was oyakodon (chicken and egg over rice), and for me, it, the plated tofu, and maybe the tsukune (chicken meatball) skewer were the three biggest winners. I just kept eating the food that was set in front of me until I realized that it was never going to stop until I put an end to it. After about 20 courses (not pictured: the single grape they served as a finisher), plus the beer and San Pellegrino water I drank, my bill wound up being more like ¥16,000 (over $100).
They didn’t offer me an itemized receipt, and I should have probably asked for one, but I didn’t, so I have no idea how the cost broke down. Hopefully, everything was on the up and up? At the time, I was more concerned with visiting the restroom since the meal immediately pushed everything else out of my stomach and left little room in my intestines, either. Kanpai!
Bird Land in Ginza
Bird Land’s Ginza branch (there’s another one in Toranomon) was one of three previous 1-star yakitori restaurants in Tokyo. This was true just as recently as the 2023 Michelin Guide. The reason the number is down to two for 2024 is that Bird Land has fallen into Michelin’s new nebulous “Selected Restaurants” category.
Time Out Tokyo speculates that this category’s vagueness (versus stars and Bib Gourmand recommendations) may mean that it’s for restaurants in limbo with Michelin since Japan reopened its borders to foreign tourists last October. If the guide’s anonymous inspectors couldn’t get a reservation and didn’t have a chance to reassess the restaurant again this year, it could be they’re unable to give it a star or any rating, so they’re holding it as a Selected Restaurant in lieu of removing it altogether.
Whatever the case, Bird Land was the first true Michelin-starred restaurant I ever visited. Until then, aside from one very good yakitori meal at Torimasa in Nagasaki, I was most accustomed to frequenting my local Torikizoku franchise on Friday nights. There was a location right next door to the suburban Tokyo school where I once taught. Everything on the menu at Torikizoku is ¥360 after tax (usually for two processed yakitori skewers), so it goes without saying that Bird Land offers a better meal with higher-quality ingredients.
I ordered the omakase course (¥6,600), which started with an assortment of appetizers and some tasty chicken liver pâté. The first yakitori skewer was chicken filet with wasabi, and it sort of faked me out because the taste wasn’t revolutionary. It just, you know, tasted like chicken.
With my guard thereby down, everything from that point onward in the meal knocked my socks off. I realized the first yakitori course had perhaps been meant to lower my defenses or start my taste buds out on solid ground before the next seven courses — interspersed with other sides like a grilled mushroom cap — threw them off balance entirely with fresh flavors. I had a similar experience at Sushi Yoshitake, where the next course sucker-punched me after the first one offered a classic taste.
Decorated appropriately with a cuckoo clock on the wall, Bird Land expanded my concept of what yakitori could be. The seasoning for each course was superb, and even yakitori like chicken liver, which isn’t normally my favorite, was delicious. Since Yakitori Omino came later, this was my first real time to dine on things like skewered ginkgo nuts. Strangely enough, the tofu, of all things, was yet again a standout, the best I’ve ever had.
It was a lighter meal (not 20 courses), and I was still a little hungry at the end, so I ordered two more skewers à la carte, including one topped with char-grilled caciocavallo cheese. With drinks, it brought the total to over ¥10,000. In hindsight, I’d recommend going with the ¥8,600 course, which comes with oyakodon. That might help fill you up more.
Palate Cleanser: The Unattainable Sukiyabashi Jiro
As a side note, Bird Land is in the same Ginza basement as the world-renowned Sukiyabashi Jiro from the documentary Jiro Dreams of Sushi. It’s probably the closest I’ll ever come to following in President Obama and the late Prime Minister Abe’s footsteps and dining there, because Sukiyabashi Jiro doesn’t accept reservations from John Josh Q. Public anymore. You can only negotiate a reservation through the concierge of certain 5-star hotels like the Grand Hyatt, and even then, you might have to plan your entire Tokyo visit around the restaurant’s openings, if it has any.
As a result of this, though it once held three stars and may be the world’s most famous sushi restaurant, Sukiyabashi Jiro isn’t featured in the Michelin Guide anymore. You might have to settle for Jiro Ono’s son, Takashi, and his 2-star Roppongi Hills branch. Alternatively, I had a great experience at the aforementioned Sushi Yoshitake, which was Tokyo’s only 3-star sushi restaurant before, though it’s been bumped down to two stars now, with the upstart Harutaka taking its place on top for 2024.
If you do somehow secure a reservation for Sukiyabashi Jiro’s original Ginza branch, the basement where it and Bird Land are located can be tricky to find. It’s near the same intersection corner as the Fujiya building. You’ll know you’ve found Jiro when you see the English sign outside reading, “Do not take a photo, please.”
Since I’m used to having media access, and there was no one around, and I was standing right there while waiting for Bird Land to open, anyway, I decided to ignore that sign and play the paparazzo, flagrantly violating the rules like a typical American. Do not follow my bad example. Do as I say, not as I do.
Sumatra Curry Kyoeido in Jimbocho
Moving on now to curry, Sumatra Curry Kyoeido technically serves a Japanese rendition of Indonesian-style curry. The name, flagging up the Indonesian island of Sumatra, should be a tip-off to that. (If nothing else, King Kong famously lives on an island “way west of Sumatra.”) I have to admit, though, that my memory of the name failed me at the time, and I’m generally more used to Japanese, Indian, or Sri Lankan curry.
Suffice it to say, even the basic pork curry here (¥1,100) tasted like no other curry I’ve ever tried. It’s made without flour and has a very distinctive, almost medicinal taste, packed with 20 different spices. “Medicinal” may not sound like the most ringing endorsement, but some soup curry restaurants like Okushiba Shoten near JR Hachioji Station do offer that as an upcharge option.
Sumatra Curry Kyoeido serves the rice on its own plate and the curry sauce in a gravy boat so you can pour it over the rice bed yourself. Not shown is the side of soup, a corn-based veggie potage, which was also good.
Before the Michelin Guide inexplicably ditched its curry category, Sumatra Curry Kyoeido was one of several Bib Gourmand selections it recommended. If we’re being honest, what drew me to this place was simply that it looked the most appetizing in pictures. However, according to the Chiyoda City Tourism Association, it’s one of Jimbocho’s most famous curry restaurants, and it’s celebrating its 100th anniversary next year.
Like Bird Land, Sumatra Curry Kyoeido is in a basement, streetside — just down the block from Jimbocho Station, in this case. When I was there, it had a steady stream of lunch customers going up and down its stairs, and they sat me catty-corner at the same table as another guy who was dining solo.
One thing to note is that it’s cash-only here. It's my own fault for being absent-minded again and wandering into a restaurant with less than a thousand yen, but when I got up to the register and realized they didn’t take credit, I had to leave my ID with them and run to the ATM.
Restaurant Pages in Tokyo’s History
Dining out at Michelin restaurants in Tokyo is something I’d like to continue doing in 2024, but I may wait to build up my files again before posting any more write-ups like this. There are still places on my wish list, like the French chateau-style building that holds two of Chef Joël Robuchon’s pricey Ebisu restaurants. But at this point, I’ve covered ten guide spots with a good base of different food types, and I’m all caught up on the places where I’ve eaten up to now. It feels like a good jumping-off point.
In addition to trying new food, though, another benefit of dining out is that it sometimes provides an opportunity to explore new nooks and crannies of Tokyo. After lunching at Sumatra Curry Kyoeido, I ducked into a couple of bookstores in Jimbocho, since they’re as synonymous with this neighborhood as curry is. Some of the stores even have shelves with tarps on the street, so as you walk by, you’ll see people browsing the wall of books outside the store.
The most interesting place I visited was Kitazawa Bookstore, in business since 1902. When you step into this place, it's like a portal to the past, as if you're entering a small library from the early 20th century. They have a rare book corner, and the shelves are stocked with hardcovers and first editions, spanning categories like literature, philosophy, and religion.
I don’t know if it’s just inflation, or because the yen has weakened and it costs more to import, or what, but English books have gotten ridiculously expensive in Tokyo. At Kinokuniya in Shinjuku, paperbacks now regularly run upward of ¥3,000 or even ¥4,000. Kitazawa Bookstore, at least, has an understandable reason for its high prices since it caters to collectors. While window-shopping there, I saw a first edition of Robert Penn Warren’s All the King’s Men, for instance, with a ¥22,000 price tag on the inside cover. That’s about the equivalent of two 1-star Michelin yakitori meals.
One book that I didn’t see on the shelves was the Michelin Guide. The only downside to relying on the digital version of the guide is that, when it’s updated and restaurants fall out of the guide, they disappear from Michelin’s online archives.
It’s not uncommon for restaurants to disappear seemingly overnight in Tokyo itself, either. At the beginning of this year, I found a new non-Michelin sandwich shop that served good peanut butter milkshakes near the Meiji Shrine Outer Garden, but months later when I returned to the area, it was gone.
In the grand scheme of things, I suppose restaurants are as ephemeral as the meals they serve — or the seasons, which are changing from late autumn to early winter here now. Like every other place I’ve written about in this dizzy metropolis, they’re all just pages in Tokyo’s history.