‘I’m not sure I understand it all, but then, I’ve always had a mild sense of inferiority in top Japanese restaurants’
It’s a galumphing cliche to attribute the obsessive pursuit of perfection to a Japanese chef, but watching Yuya Kikuchi at the counter of his tiny empire, I’m going for it. What the heck: cliches are cliches for a reason, and perfectionism is at the heart of this easy-to-miss little newcomer. Parting its noren curtains gives the sense of entering somewhere far away from backstreet Soho, somewhere with a rather alluring sense of unknowability. I’m not sure I quite understand it all, but then, I’ve always enjoyed a mild sense of inferiority in the best Japanese restaurants, especially those in actual Japan, and Jugemu plays beautifully on my masochism.
Leaves of paper scrawled with the day’s specials fringe the counter and glass-fronted fridges, the paper’s shape a pleasing echo of those noren: seabass, razor clam, wild prawn, eel, turbot, whelk, horse mackerel. Bamboo containers on mismatched tables contain surprisingly lengthy menus to tick off: everything from delicate prawn dumplings to terrifically niche items such as a tiny bowl of natto-level slimy seaweed (Okinawan mozuku) topped with sesame seeds and a blob of white stuff that reacts to the application of chopsticks like strings of Copydex. I think it’s tororo (yam paste) and the Japanese can keep it, frankly. Mozuku is revered as particularly health-giving: it’s currently being investigated for potentially anti-carcinogenic properties. Why is it that nothing like, say, cheese on toast is ever found to have super-beneficial qualities?
Related: Vasco & Piero’s Pavilion, London W1: ‘This Soho old-timer is rammed’ – restaurant review
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