TEPPANYAKI
Many,
many moons ago, when Sir Hinchalot was a long way from being knighted
and -- as a callow youth with few social graces and an absence
of table manners for pubic dining -- he went on his first serious
dinner date in Sydney.
This
was not to be confused with the steakeggsnchips
at the local fish shop after the pubs closed at 6p.m. After the
six oclock swill.
And
not to be confused with the Sunday night meal, sans alcohol, at
the local Chinese. Chop Suey and Egg Foo Yung.
About
a year after arriving in Australia I plucked up courage to invite
a beautiful young woman to go out for dinner. Rashly, because
she seemed far more sophisticated, I suggested she choose the
restaurant.
She
opted for Japanese. I said she was sophisticated. The Sukiyaki
Room in Sydneys Kings Cross. I remember several things.
I had to take my shoes off and luckily there were no holes in
my socks. I had to sit cross legged and any amorous plans were
thwarted by the pins and needles creeping up the legs until even
the groin was numb.
And
I had to grit the teeth and plough on when the geisha girl waitress,
amidst all the bowing, broke a raw egg into a bowl and indicated
I should dunk slivers of beef in it.
And
I did. Didnt want to blow the date.
And
from that was born a life-long love of Japanese food. In fact,
I married my date from that night, and the love of all things
Japanese lasted longer than the marriage.
Some
years later and thousands of kilometres away I cemented that passion
for Japanese food by going to the first of the Benihana chain
in New York.
And,
even though I cooked Chinese food - everything from Peking Duck
to marinated pork spare ribs - the love affair with the cleanliness
and taste of Japanese food remained a favourite.
Raw
tuna and raw salmon sashimi. Nori rolls or California rolls as
they are sometimes called. Shabu shabu at Kenzan which I have
talked about before, and bowls of rice spiced with soy sauce and
sjimi - the grains of Japanese chili powder.
And
then there is Teppanyaki. Thats the dish where you front
up on stools around a huge gleaming hot plate and the chef does
kamikaze things with knives and cleavers as he slashes, and slices,
and cooks chunks of chicken and cubes of tender beef and flattened
prawns. And bean sprouts and slivers of potato. And pours various
sauces on the sizzling dishes with lemon juice
and
garlic and soy and saki. And your mouth waters as he cooks it
in front of you and flicks it deftly on to your plate. And the
wine or the sake or the Kirin beer flows along with the conversation.
And the meal takes a couple of hours as you finish it with a big
bowl of freshly cooked fried rice before a bowl of green tea ice
cream with a smear of red bean curd. And then the green tea with
nutty rice bits floating in it.
Bliss.
Well, not quite. The drawback to Teppanyaki is when only two of
you go there and you are sitting at a table with six strangers
and they want to chat.
The
other drawback is when the chef insists on talking to you and
talking to you and talking to you. And there are the acrobatic
chefs who want your participation . That means they first cook
the food and then throw it at you to catch in your bowl.
Now,
I dont know about you but when I am in a restaurant I want
to eat the food. Not wear it. To me an acrobatic Japanese chef
is about as popular as a fart in a spacesuit.
Fill
me dont drill me.
There
are heaps of teppanyaki style restaurants in Melbourne and they
are generally good quality. Apart from chefs occasional
antics.
Years
ago there was a good one -called the Teppanyaki - in Collins Street.
Right up the top near the Hyatt and, from memory, next to the
R.M.Williams shop where I used to get my boots. It disappeared
but I found it again recently. Had lunch there with the Lord Mayor,
Peter Costigan because it is still in Collins Street but just
up the hill from the Town Hall.
For
classy Teppanyaki-style food and a fantastic view you cant
go past KoKo in the Crown complex. And the Teppanyaki in Chapel
Street, Prahran has just been extensively and expensively redecorated
and is worth a try.
But
a word of warning. If a chef throws rice at you pretend its
a wedding and throw it back.