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 “steakeggs’nchips” at the local fish shop after the pubs closed at 6p.m. After the six o’clock 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 Sydney’s King’s 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. Didn’t 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. That’s 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 don’t 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 don’t 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 can’t 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 it’s a wedding and throw it back.