Urban Adventures on the Big Apple – Part 3
Our trip to the big apple ended on a high note as we dinned on fine neo-Japanese fare at Morimoto New York Restaurant. We have been fans of Masaharu Morimoto ever since The Iron Chef first started airing on the Food Network. In fact, the show is primarily to blame for our current obsession with all things Japanese and for putting “the Land of the Rising Sun” at the top of our destination list.
The whole affair started rather serendipitously. Brenda, who had gone off with her cousin to find some last minute “got-to-haves”, called me on the cell and asked me to pick a place for dinner. I was out of ideas so I googled “New York Restaurants” and that’s when I saw it, Morimoto New York restaurant. Now, we’re no strangers to Morimoto’s cuisine having visited his first restaurant in Philadelphia; however, if the Philadelphia place was great, New York was superb.
The restaurant is located at a nondescript location in Manhattan’s meat packing district one block from the West Side Highway. When the cab pulled up, we though there was some kind of mistake. We could see no signage or anything else to indicate that this was not a warehouse but a high scale restaurant. The only giveaway was the flowing banners over the arch that framed the entrance. Unfortunately, none of us remembered to bring a camera and it was too dark for our cell phone cameras to work. (Surely a Japanese cell phone would have worked.)
Once inside, we checked in with the hostess who told us it would take a few minutes to get a table. We went down to the lounge area to have some drinks while we waited. The décor was impressive: modern, minimalist, industrial, and chic. An entire wall was covered with empty plastic bottles. The bar and table tops were made of some kind of translucent material lit up with a violet hue, the bar stools were nothing but curved pieces of acrylic on a chrome stand and there was light-stained wood everywhere. The bathrooms had Japanese toilets with seats that lifted with the push of a button and the stalls had back walls with holographic images of cherry blossom branches that seemed to go on forever.
The selection of exotic drinks was mind-boggling. We all ended up getting fruity drinks so I didn’t get to try the pricey Morimoto signature sake, which all but guarantees a second visit to correct this oversight. Before we knew it, our table was ready and a waiter dressed all in black came to transfer our drinks and us to the upstairs dining room. The upstairs was decorated in the same theme and featured giant squared off pine logs with knots and cracks clearly exposed to give an aged look. The rectangular tables were long like a school cafeteria or German beer house.
It was on our way to the table that we saw him, the man himself, Morimoto. I almost missed him. Brenda poked me in the back and said: “there he is; there he is!” I didn’t know what she was talking about until I was right next to him and spotted the characteristic glasses and slicked-back hair style. I could not believe our luck but because of the circumstances and our wanting to appear “cool” we could not speak to him or get an autograph before he disappeared.
But Morimoto was not only about style and celebrity; the food did not disappoint. Morimoto managed to create a menu that was not just high cuisine and innovative but also great tasting. The assortment of raw oysters with different flavor marinades and the shrimp tempura was exquisite but the yellowtail over rice cooked right at your table on a hot stone pot was as delicious as it was unique. A fitting end to a marvelous trip…
