Teppanyaki Kazan

In Tokyo's Tsukiji district, where the Sumida River widens toward the bay, Teppanyaki Kazan occupies the 32nd floor of the Ginza Creston Hotel in St. Luke's Tower. Teppanyaki holds a particular place in Japanese cuisine: a single iron plate, a chef at close range, and ingredients with nothing to hide behind. The room sits roughly 120 meters above the ground, and its 14 counter seats take in both the griddle and the windows. By day the view is open and full of light, with the river below and Tokyo Tower in the distance. After dark the city takes over, and the lights of the bayside stretch out behind the chef's hands. The kitchen's approach is simple. Seafood and Japanese black wagyu are selected with care, then cooked in front of guests by experienced chefs who give each piece the time it needs. The pleasure lies in watching an ingredient change on the steel, and in tasting it moments later. Courses bring together the sea and the pasture. Scallops and seasonal fish, abalone, Ise lobster or king crab may appear alongside seasonal grilled vegetables before the steak arrives: Kuroge Wagyu sirloin or fillet, or a pairing of the two that shows how differently two cuts can behave. The soft hiss of fat meeting hot metal carries along the counter, followed by the scent of seared beef. It is a setting suited to anniversaries and other days worth marking, and to anyone seeking luxury dining in Japan without ceremony for its own sake. When the last plate is cleared, the windows remain, and the city goes on glittering quietly below.