SHABU-SHABU AT MISHIMA-TEI

Thursday night's dinner was one of those travel experiences I will never forget. Around 7pm after a full day of mountain climbing, shrine visiting and food-market-going we met in the hotel lobby to go and have dinner at a Shabu-Shabu restaurant of Sam's choosing. As I am the only one in our party who can speak Japanese I have been relied upon for directions and information, so I've made a point of getting the others to decide things like where we are having dinner. 

We've been working our way through all the famous categories of Japanese food: ramen, sushi et cetera. Tonight was Shabu-Shabu; simply put, Japanese style hot pot. After a bit of searching, Sam found a place he was happy with, nice and close to our hotel. Assured that it was only around 2000¥ per person we dressed in out usual casual attire and proceeded down Teramachi (an old style shopping strip) to find our dinner. 

We found the place quite easily and I was impressed by the traditional style of the building. Hungry and keen to escape the spring humidity we entered. Mirroring the traditional exterior, inside we were met by a shoe doorman. 'Such a traditional style eating experience for only 2000¥?? What a find!' I thought to myself. As we ascended to the first floor however, I started to become suspicious. We were greeted by not one, but five staff members, all dressed exceptionally finely (men in suits, women in kimonos). They all bowed emphatically, greeting us warmly, and suspiciously formally. After being directed up another flight of stairs we were led to a private tatami dining room. Before entering I decided to go to the bathroom as the place was quite a maze and I wanted to ask the waitress leading us for directions. Back downstairs and into the bathroom, my suspicions heightened. The bathroom was nicer than the first apartment I lived in. Let me just restate that: this bathroom was nice enough to live in. 

Re-entering our dining room I was met by three slightly panicked faces and the patient waitress who was, to my surprise, still in the room. She was waiting for us to order. A menu was pushed under my nose and Elise asked quickly 'are these prices per person!?' A quick glance downwards confirmed my suspicions. 2000¥ per head? Try about 10,000¥. Despite the language barrier I think everyone in the room knew what was going on. I nodded serenely, trying to remain polite despite everyone's obvious shock. In fact, I had to try very hard not to openly laugh. 

So began the 10,000¥ Shabu-Shabu dinner. 

Having eaten Shabu-Shabu many times before I was pretty excited at the idea of eating some that was so expensive. I'd also massively overestimated travelling costs in case things exactly like this happened. I was surprised, but considered this a kind of happy mistake. Ben, whose main reason for travelling to Japan was to eat his way through it, was equally excited. Unfortunately, Sam and Elise did not seem to share our feelings. Apologising incessantly to a stony faced and tired Elise, Sam was obviously feeling deeply uncomfortable about his mistake - despite our many attempts to lighten the mood and my offer to pay for everyone's meals.

Predictably, the entire meal was mouth-watering. Having not had Shabu-Shabu for four years the taste was just like a beautiful memory resurfacing. Unfortunately the meal was made a little awkward by the fact our finely attired waitress had to stick around to cook the meal for us. She spoke very little English and everyone bar me spoke very little Japanese. Sam's continued apologies throughout all courses did not help the mood. 

We were served beef, tofu and a variety of vegetables commonly served in Shabu-Shabu such as shiitake and enoki mushrooms, cabbage and radish. After being taken directly from the boiling water in which it is cooked, the foods are dipped in an individual bowl of grated daikon, ponzu sauce and spring onions and eaten immediately. I enjoyed everything immensely. However, in a restaurant as expensive as this it is considered rude not to eat every last morsel and, as this was Sam and Elise's first time eating the food, they didn't like a few parts. This meant I was lucky enough to get more than my share!

When the waitress explained that dessert was to be served next, I asked what it would be. 'Ichijiku' she replied. Having never heard of that type of dessert before I asked what it was. 'Is it anything like mochi?' I inquired naively. Far from explaining the dessert, the waitress then seemed confused by my question. 'You don't know Ichijiku?' she asked disbelievingly. Feeling there must be some sort of giant gap in my Japanese dessert knowledge I gave up and said we'd be happy to try it. Turns out that 'Ichijiku' just means fig. No wonder she was confused that I didn't know what a fig was.....So dessert was a large fig dipped in a sweet sesame paste.

Despite the awkwardness and confusion, we all agreed afterwards that eating at Mishima-Tei had been a highly memorable dining experience. It would want to be, for 10,000¥.