We lost track of time as we drank, ate and talked.
The inside of the restaurant is small and cozy. This is a small restaurant, or rather a bar, tucked away in a corner of Shinjuku Central Park that has escaped redevelopment.
I decided to write a wandering journal at a hidden bar in Nishi-Shinjuku
Shinagawatei. From the photos, it looks like an old, atmospheric bar. I found this place by chance on Google Maps. I had marked it on the map as a place I wanted to go to, but I never had a chance to actually go because of its location in Nishi-Shinjuku. I felt it was too far from Monosas and Shinjuku Station for a quick stop after work.
It's an 18-minute walk from Monosus... But when I told the editor-in-chief about the restaurant, her eyes lit up and she said, "Let's definitely go." Omura, also from the editorial department, is a big fan of "Yoshida Rui's Sake Bar Wanderings." She was so excited that she'd seen this restaurant on the show! We were so excited that we had to go if Rui had visited the restaurant, and we immediately decided to have a girls' get-together at Shinagawatei on Friday night.
Since there didn't seem to be many seats, I decided to make a reservation just to be safe. When I called, the landlady answered and kindly said, "I'll reserve a koagari for three people." Just the sound of the word "koagari" already makes me grin as I think of the bar wanderings. I could feel the landlady's kindness over the phone, and I couldn't wait to go. The day before, I happened to call out to the creative club's dojo, and sure enough, she said, "I'll go." So the four of us, including her, decided to wander the bars.
Note: Koagari - a tatami room set up with chairs separated by an aisle in a small restaurant.
Whether you look at it from the outside or go inside, you can feel the Edo atmosphere.
The lights of Shinagawatei shine in the darkness. It feels like we're back in the Edo period, not the Showa period.
That day, we all finished work and left the office. Not wanting to walk 18 minutes on a cold February night, we went to the main street of Nishi-sando and hailed a taxi. It was less than a five-minute walk, and we immediately took advantage of the reduction in the starting fare in Tokyo. We were grateful to be able to get there for just 410 yen.
I got off the taxi just before the Kumano Shrine intersection. The road I followed based on the map was dark, with only vacant lots and buildings. I wondered if it was really in such a place, and just as I was starting to wonder, I spotted the Shinagawatei sign with a red arrow shining brightly under a street lamp. As soon as I turned the corner, the restaurant was there. Wow! Amazing... Shinagawatei stood out in the darkness like a set from a period drama.
I was nervous about the historic look of the store, but then I opened the lattice door and found a customer standing right in front of me. My first impression was that the store was very compact.
Everything is small and tightly packed. Looking at the customers at the counter seats, contrary to expectations, there are a wide variety of ages. My worries that we would stand out if it was a place where stylish old men drank quietly disappeared.
The reserved raised seating area was just the right size for four women. We felt completely comfortable and snug. When I looked up, I saw Yoshida Rui (in a poster) smiling at the edge of the counter seats. I thought Sakaba Hourouki really was here for the location shoot... I quietly shared my excitement with Omura.
I found a poster of Yoshida Rui!
But what really blew me away was the Seven Lucky Gods that filled the walls. Masks, dolls, photos, colored paper, and more of the Seven Lucky Gods were displayed so that there was no space left. I heard that one customer gave them to the shop as a gift, and other customers started bringing them one after another. I wonder if they felt like they were making an offering to the shop.
There is seating for four on the raised floor. We chat around a small table. In the center is Pirikyu.
After finally settling into the raised area, I ordered a bottle of beer and "pirikyu." It was a kind of namul-like pickled dish with thinly sliced carrots on top of cucumbers. It had a strong chili pepper flavor, so I called it "pirikyu." After that, I ordered what I wanted to eat from the menu hanging on the wall. Tsukune (eaten with wasabi), deep-fried tofu, braised pork belly (a favorite that everyone agreed on), dried squid... they were all classic snacks, but you could tell each dish was carefully made with carefully selected ingredients.
The proprietress, now 80 years old, is still very active.
The hostess makes you feel happy with her clear and cheerful manner and casual consideration.
Standing in the aisle taking orders was the proprietress. She was extremely efficient. She quickly set out the beers, glasses, and appetizers. Depending on the menu, she would ask questions like, "Should this be enough for four people?" and her thoughtfulness in taking orders was reassuring. After a while, I was surprised to learn her age.
She's turning 80. How healthy she is! We were astonished. When I become a grandmother, I want to be as lively as the landlady. Her speech is clear, rhythmic, and cheerful. She spoke to us in a friendly manner, even though it was our first time there. We felt even more comfortable.
When I went to the toilet on the way, I noticed some soybeans on the window sill. Three beans were quietly placed in a row. It reminded me, today was Setsubun. What a graceful way to throw beans. I imagined the landlady quietly placing the beans, and returned to my seat with a warm feeling.
The distance to the neighbors is very close.
Natural conversation
The tables on the raised platform are small, so everyone's faces are close to each other, making it easy to talk. And in this bar, conversations with customers at the counter across the aisle naturally arise. This is probably because you can hear each other's conversations without even listening. When we were having a lively discussion about local beer, two men at the counter joined in the conversation, saying, "That beer...", as if they were colleagues who had come with us.
The battle between taste and smell: My first experience with "Kusaya"
After finishing the beer, I ordered some homemade plum wine. It was a deep amber color, with a sweet, rounded, and complex flavor. According to the proprietress, they add more to the wine they make every year, so it's about three years old. The plums that were served as a bonus in the plum wine were plump, soft, and delicious. It's easy to see why some customers take some to make jam.
As we were drinking the plum wine and chatting away, reading out loud the items on the wall, "Kusaya? You've never tried kusaya before, have you?", a young lady who seemed to be a regular at the counter started talking to us. "The kusaya at this restaurant is fine! I can only eat this one," she said, highly recommending it. After hearing her story, we were intrigued, so we decided to take the plunge and order kusaya.
A strong smell emanated from the small bowl placed in front of us. However, it looked like dried fish. Without hesitation, everyone put it in their mouths. When we started to chew, we thought...huh? It wasn't as smelly as when we first smelled it. It was strange. Since this was the first time we had it today, we can't compare it to other things, but personally, I think it has a "strong dried fish" smell. It would probably go well with rice. Perhaps because the banquet was nearing the end, everyone stopped eating half of it, it was the first time in their lives that they had ever eaten kusaya.
Kusaya (like the smell of a chicken coop) tastes good.
The last dish of the day was ochazuke. The chef made the effort to ask, "Today's salmon is very spicy, is that okay?" and then brought out the salmon ochazuke. The generous layer of nori seaweed was scented with sesame and green shiso. The warm rice was a hit in my stomach. It had been a while since I had eaten such delicious ochazuke.
That's how we continued drinking happily until the end. We were able to experience a real bar wandering, with the landlady, the chef behind the counter, and the customers all united. We were sent off by the people in the bar with smiles and went outside. We all decided to come back again soon, and headed home in high spirits.
Shinagawatei
4-13-13 Nishi-Shinjuku, Shinjuku-ku, Tokyo
Tel: 03-3378-1178
Opening hours:
Mon-Sat 17:30-23:30
Closed on Sundays and holidays
FURIHATA Yukari