Asakusa is named, one can assume, after the district in Tokyo – and despite sitting at the dog-end of the Euston strip of least salubrious premises in north London, has certainly not forgotten its roots. About half the diners are oriental, probably some the Japanese families and businessmen who often come here for a bite. The A4 sheets of paper on the plaster wall advertise specials in Japanese only. The management doesn't even answer the booking line in English.
Now the trick is to book in advance and – I can’t stress this enough – ask for an upstairs table. The tiny, ramshackle restaurant is tatty and crowded, but if you have a choice between sitting what feels like an ancient sitting room and corridor (no? this is, in fact, the better option), or a basement that feels – and smells – like a bathroom that's been cack-handedly converted into a mushroom-growing cellar, I don't need to advise you to go for upstairs every time. Moreover, it may be difficult to change your table once you're seated. The waiting staff are Japanesely sweet and demure, but the maitresse d' is large and formidable. Cross her not.
Although an unforgivable oversight on my part led to our being stranded deep into the mushroom zone, we determined to enjoy the night. So to start off: kanpai! While Japanese food is always exciting enough in itself, I always remember late in the day that sake is an optional bonus. The drinks options at Asakusa include beer and sake, a recent innovation being a three-sake tasting set, where the tiny glasses are presented in a wooden stand, with printed tasting notes. Most enjoyable.
The most expensive way to order is by getting lots of small dishes. For those with a hungry belly and a thin wallet, there are substantial donburi options of a bowl of rice with something on top. Sadly, we get to eat here so rarely that I have to take the route to total flavour satiety and order as many different dishes as possible.
I’m a martyr to this blog.
Sushi is available (there is a sushi chef) but I tend to think of it as a bit of a sideline here. The mantra method was only partly successful, so in a frenzy of greed, we selected grilled salmon head, chicken gizzard yakitori, grilled fish set (mackerel) + an extra miso soup, assorted pickles, seaweed salad, rare beef salad, soft shell crab and baby squid in ginger sauce.
The food is brought in courses, broadly speaking, of starters and salads, then grilled items. It's not perfect. Although gizzard is always tough, the yakitori seemed a little over-done. The salad and pickles were fresh but unremarkable. But it's all cooked with a clear understanding of the cuisine and the almost religious respect for ingredients that is the hallmark of Japanese food.
The stand-out dish for me was the salmon head (below), from which plenty of fatty meat can be picked. The cheeks in particular were tender and splendid and the skin, cooked in salt, was blistered and crisp. The rare beef slices (above), served with ginger and daikon were also mighty fine.
Of course, we payed for my exuberance of ordering at the end – around the £30/head mark – but it'd be very easy to eat here for an awful lot less. About £15 could buy you a donburi, side dish and beer, I reckon.
I'll come back here. In fact, I have - many times. It's a great neighbourhood eatery, with serious food. It’s not pretty, or charming, but it’s very individual.
And for the strong stomached among you, scroll down to see how Sammy the salmon ended up. So long, Sammy, and thanks for all the fish.
WOW I have been recommended this place, and now after reading this I am sure I'd like to go. You say the interior is shabby, but it looks pretty wonderful - unique, whichever way you look at it! Thanks for a wonderful piece of writing, too. Joyful to read.
Posted by: Russell | 11/10/2011 at 11:06 AM