koya bar, soho

Ever since being in Japan, I've craved Japanese food. The intensity of cloudy miso soup; firm, slippery noodles; ethereal tempura and feathery panko. Our tsukemen experience at Rokurinsha was especially memorable, and I couldn't stop thinking about their udon-like noodles, their tender chewiness, a thick, cable-like nest next to a hot bowl of stock. And while tsukemen ramen might be a rarity in this part of the world, udon itself is certainly better known (hell, my parent's local Chinese offers the enigmatic "seafood udon", though none of us have ever ordered it).

But anyone halfway interested in udon and the London food scene would know about Koya. The original branch opened next door to Koya Bar, in Soho, to some serious acclaim in 2010. The noodles were novel; people couldn't get enough of dipping and slurping, and the cold offerings were a smash-hit in the summer. There was no Japanese restaurant like it. It closed to much weeping and gnashing of teeth, but Koya Bar continued to trade in the area and Koya City was opened in late 2017 in the Bloomberg Arcade.

Koya has been reviewed hundreds of times over, and of course it was on my list of places to try. My brother and I picked a good day to visit, a windy, wet September Friday that would drive anyone to the bottom of a bowl of ramen. We rocked up at peak lunchtime, shortly after 1pm, but there wasn't much of a queue, about six people deep -- yes, out the door, but that's due to the minuscule space between the entrance and the dining room. We waited perhaps ten or fifteen minutes before being seated alongside each other at the bar.

The menu offers plenty of choice for any diner: variations on udon, plus rice bowls and a range of small plates. Due to the weather, we both opted for atsu-atsu style udon, that is, udon served in the hot broth; and two small plates of pickles and marinated mushrooms.

Pickles; marinated mushrooms

Marinated mushrooms were good, cool but not fridge-cold, with a fun slippery texture. Pickles included some greens and some vibrantly pink daikon. Daikon was especially tasty, with a beautiful crisp bite, though it felt strange to have the fibrous tendril end of the vegetable. Pickling was subtle but effective, as  seems typical for Japanese style pickling.

Kinoko udon, atsu-atsu

I chose the kinoko (mushroom) udon with walnut miso. The miso is served separately, a deep brown and studded with chunks of walnut. Tasting it on its own, it is deeply flavoured and surprisingly sweet, the nuts not at all bitter and adding a nice bite. This is especially enjoyable when dissolved in the soup, providing a great balance of textures: slick, chewy noodles, slippery mushrooms, and then a sudden crunch from the walnuts. There was a good mix of mushrooms, slices of meaty eryngii and fine, thready enoki. The broth was mild in flavour, but with the addition of the miso and shichimi it was fragrant and savoury, and the last few mouthfuls -- drunk straight from the bowl -- were very nice.

Buta miso udon, atsu-atsu

My brother went for the buta miso udon (pork and miso). The pork mince was lovely, again with a surprising natural sweetness in contrast to the savoury broth. He finished it off with no complaints. Both dishes were good, and the udon especially so, which due to its handmade nature varied in thickness. I would've liked more intensity in the broths themselves, though I was perhaps spoilt by the quality of that which we had in Japan and the memory too fresh.

Service was acceptable, and notably relaxed. In so many of these walk-in only restaurants, with their central location, lack of space, and endless queues, you often feel rushed to order, eat, and pay in thirty minutes. Not so at Koya, where we were allowed to browse the menu at leisure and take our time, though it also serves as the perfect location for a short lunch break as you could easily order up, eat, and be out the door quick-sharp. As long as you avoid the queues, that is.

Decent service, excellent location, good udon. Perhaps a more strongly flavoured broth, such as the curry, would make for a more exciting experience. I don't know if I would suggest it as my number one recommendation for a Japanese meal in London, but they are certainly expert udon-makers. I would love to return to try the tempura, which likewise comes highly recommended.

Date of visit: 27/09/2019
Address: 50 Frith St, Soho, London W1D 4SQ

shack-fuyu, soho

You can't throw a stone from one trendy restaurant in central London without hitting three more. In Koya's entrance way, it has a poster showing just how true this is. The illustration depicts an overhead of the surrounding area, and in close proximity, one can find Hoppers, Patty & Bun, Xu, Bao, Homeslice, Jen Cafe, and Shack-Fuyu, to name but a few.

Shack-Fuyu is a member of the Bone Daddies' family, along with the original Bone Daddies, a ramen specialty restaurant (which now has several branches around London), and the izakaya-style Flesh & Buns. Shack-Fuyu began life as a pop-up, as so many do, and brands itself as a yōshoku restaurant -- that is, a Japanese take on Western food. On a Sunday at 12.30, it wasn't at all busy.

Tables are a fraction too close together if you come as a pair. We were seated almost on top of another couple, and squeezing in to take our seats was a bit... intimate. Booths, pictured above for larger groups, are much nicer. Anyway, once seated the sardine feeling passed and we were given two menus: one a la carte, the other detailing the brunch menu. As neither of us are big drinkers, the brunch menu was not especially appealing, but if you are it's a great deal: £39 per head for unlimited prosecco, plus unlimited items from an abbreviated menu of small plates (plus one large dish each). Come hungry and thirsty and you can definitely get your money's worth.

As we sat down, we were assaulted with the usual questions: had we eaten here before? did we understand the concept? The concept being sharing plates, which is not exactly novel nowadays but I still find it a good time (being not especially protective of my food). Thus we ordered three small plates, one main, and one side. Unlike similar concept restaurants -- where they warn you from the get-go that things come to the table as they are ready -- Shack-Fuyu's timing was good. After a short wait, we received two of our small plates: pulled lamb bao and crispy piglet belly.

Pulled lamb bao for two

Pulled lamb was good, not so seasoned that you couldn't taste the beautiful farmyard flavour of good lamb, with a mild kick of spice. Bao buns were less impressive, not as light and bouncy as those at Bao, but serviceable. We actually enjoyed the lamb better on its own, eaten straight from its hot clay pot, the flavours free to breathe without a duvet of bland dough.

Crispy piglet belly

Crispy piglet belly was confusing, though it looked the part, served prettily as five cubes in a vicious looking red sauce. But the colour was simply that: there was no punch of heat, the only flavour coming from the pork belly itself. Even stranger was the temperature, which was barely warm. Was it meant to be served this way? Was it a combination of the aggressive air-conditioning and it being left on the pass? God knows, but it certainly didn't seem right. The pork was pleasant but not crisp in the least, the fat hardly rendered even if it had a lovely lacquered appearance on top. The nest of greens atop were nice enough, though added very little to the experience.

Duck gyoza

Duck gyoza were stunning, the most delicate lace doily of a pancake with five dumplings bonded underneath. A super innovative way to present gyoza in their most ideal form: crispy beneath from the pan, soft and slippery on top from the steam. They were certainly juicy, the crisp snappy and fun, though the dumplings' innards were greasy. Which is perhaps inevitable with something fatty like duck, but I would have appreciated a piquant sauce to cut through it. The accompanying ginger-soy dipping sauce was pleasant enough, however, the ginger itself especially good.

At this stage we had a rather long break between our starters and our main. The restaurant was becoming busy, and the service -- which had previously been attentive to the point of overbearing -- slackened. It was still very good; we never wanted for drinks, and plates were cleared quickly (which I'll come back to). Most people seemed to be ordering from the brunch menu, as we saw fleets of wine glasses constantly passing by, as well as more elaborate looking cocktails.

From left: Burnt cauliflower; beef short rib

It must be said, small plates had been pleasant if not especially impressive, but our main and side were excellent. Burnt cauliflower with a sesame sauce came as two sizeable chunks, with excellent colour. It was smartly served with a knife and fork; handling it with chopsticks would have been no easy feat. I admit, as I sawed through the florets I felt a little nervous -- I worried it may have been undercooked -- but there was no need for concern. The char was excellent, the cauliflower cooked well, with good bite and no hint of fibrous rawness. Sesame sauce was fabulous, peanutty, creamy, intense, all without overwhelming the delicate flavour of the vegetable.

Beef short rib

Beef short rib was the best dish of the meal. A small portion considering the substantial price, but a great example: a gorgeous chunk of blackened meat, almost obsidian-like, the flesh within a stunning, blushing pink. Charred spring onion were very nice, retaining their allium flavour beneath the charcoal, pleasantly acrid. The beef was pre-sliced into six pieces, which again made for easy sharing. And the flavour -- unctious, rich but without the wobbly seams of fat that afflict some short rib, insanely tender, the meat collapsing under the weight of a fork. It had a beautiful beefy flavour, as well as a moderate sweetness from the marinade.

The advertised spicy sesame sauce surprised me by coming on the side, but it was handy to have such a generous portion to use per your preference. It seemed almost a shame to douse such quality beef in sauce, but it was so good it was a shame not to. I'd hesitate to describe it as spicy, but the sesame sauce was great, aromatic, balanced well between sweet and savoury.

One small issue re: service was how keen they were to take our plates away. We had finished the cauliflower itself, but there remained plenty of spring onions and sesame sauce on the plate that I planned to return to. We were perhaps only a third of the way through the short rib when the cauliflower plate was whisked away under our noses. This was one small blip in otherwise very good service.

The resulting bill was better than I expected for central London prices, at a clearly fashionable and popular restaurants. Portion sizes were good, though we ordered far less than our waiter recommended and felt perfectly satisfied. For the three small plates, one main, and  one generous side, plus two Asahis and green tea (with refills), it added up to £73.80 post-gratuity. The real sting in the tail was the beef short rib, at £24 for a not exactly generous portion... but it's a premium cut, and it was some of the best short rib I've ever had, so keep that in mind.

Date of visit: 29/09/2019 
Address: 14A Old Compton St, Soho, London W1D 4TJ

tokyo food tour, ginza & shinbashi

Before arriving in Tokyo, I had one thing I really wanted to do: a food tour of Tokyo led by a guide. There were plenty of options available, but one in particular cam recommended by our Airbnb host, and it advertised itself well: promising at least five stops at a variety of restaurants, with the potential to taste twenty or so food items. It wasn't cheap, and for three people, the damage was a few hundred. Still, the company was very well-reviewed, exclusively positive when I checked both its TripAdvisor and Google Review pages, and often with a full five stars. I was impressed. Enough to drop the cash, anyway.

I won't name the company, but I will say it wasn't worth anywhere near how much I spent on it. I gave my feedback privately and they gave me a small refund (honestly, smaller than I would have liked considering how I felt it was truly worth). But rather than recount the less-than-great aspects of the experience, I'll talk about the food we got to enjoy.

Manpuku Shokudo

First stop was an izakaya called Manpuku Shokudo, in Yurakucho, not at all far from Ginza (where we met our guide),  set under a railway bridge. Opposite the entrance, the wall was plastered with classic Japanese movie posters, weathered and peeling -- effortlessly cool. Apparently the owner of the izakaya is a huge fan of old movies, and the retro charm continued inside the restaurant which was decorated with enormous cartoonish murals. 

Ham katsu; edamame

Here we got to enjoy salted edamame, a classic available in nearly any UK-based Japanese restaurant. They were, well, edamame: salty, fresh-tasting, rather grassy. Ham katsu was more interesting, a triangle of lurid pink ham fried in panko, served with tangy tonkatsu sauce. Both were pleasant, good foils to an ice-cold glass of Asahi.

From here we walked to Kagoshima Kirishima Tsukada Nojo, in Shinbashi. There seem to be several of these restaurants around Tokyo, including a Shinjuku branch, all supplied with produce from their own farms in the Miyazaki prefecture. 

Kagoshima Kirishima Tsukada Nojo

Particularly good was their aged miso, served simply with cool, crisp cucumber and cabbage that we scraped the miso on to. It was pungent, potent, salty, with a good chunky texture, nothing at all like the jarred stuff.

Another stand-out dish was the nikumaki onigiri, pork-wrapped rice balls served in a sweet, rich soy-based sauce. These were obvious crowd-pleasers, the first to disappear, and apparently a common comfort food in Japanese households. Thick slices of amberjack (hampachi) were fresh-tasting, marinated in soy to take the raw edge off -- meaty and tender with no off-putting fishiness. 

Clockwise from left: yakisoba, chicken nanban, dumpling soup,
nikumaki onigiri, and vegetables for miso

Also pleasant was the chicken nanban, a yōshoku dish (that is, a Japanese re-imagination of Western cuisine), especially appropriate here as a Miyazaki specialty. The chicken is deep-fried then soaked in vinegar, before being topped with a kind of tartar sauce, rich and fatty with egg and mayonnaise. The chicken was very good, moist, the vinegar adding some much needed acidity, but the accompanying sauce was too rich to enjoy more than one piece. Not to mention the fact that the batter collapsed into a soggy mess under the creamy dressing. This may be the intention, but to our palates it was a texture too far. 

We also got two portions of the classic street food yakisoba, with prawns and without. Prawns were well-cooked, the flesh bouncy and sweet, the noodles themselves easy enough to eat. More intriguing was a pot sitting in the centre of our table above a burner, filled with a jellified stock that melted away as it was heated. Inside floated packets of dried fish and pretty, pale little dumplings. The broth itself was fabulous, clean yet complex; the dumplings slippery and juicy. I could've eaten a whole pot of these, though we only got one each. 

Torahachi

Our next visit was to a yakitori restaurant called Torahachi, again in Shinbashi. It was situated directly beneath the railway tracks, and was clearly a local favourite. It thronged with salarymen, drinking, laughing, the raucous atmosphere made louder still by the roar of trains overhead like endless thunder.

Pickled eggplant was good, an incredible indigo colour. Along with another plate of mixed pickles, these were enjoyable, each vegetable retaining its freshness and bite and the brine subtle. Skewers were tasty enough but not especially remarkable, lacking the intense charcoal flavour of the best yakitori. 

Left: pork skewer with shichimi (seven spice seasoning);
Right: chicken thigh skewer with soy

Tare was good, however, well-balanced between salt and sweet, and the chicken and pork tasting strongly of chicken and pig respectively (as they should, of course, but so often don't).

Our final stop was for dessert, and one that my brother Adam had been anticipating for a while. Within a three minute walk from Torahachi, we came across Taiyaki Kanda-Daruma, a bustling kiosk with a window opening out into the street. People nearby were tucking in to fresh taiyaki, a sweet, waffle-like batter cooked into the shape of a fish, and filled with your choice of traditional sweetened red bean paste or vanilla custard. 

Taiyaki Kanda-Daruma

The taiyaki were good, though not as Instagrammable as some. The batter was not especially crisp, a touch too thick, and we lost the true definition and charm of the fish. Red bean paste had a good texture, not too smooth, and the correct level of mild sweetness. Vanilla custard was likewise pleasant. The vanilla flavour was true but the paste was gummy, and too rich in combination with the sweet, sadly soft batter.

Taiyaki with vanilla custard

Our experience on the food tour wasn't bad, per se, and we certainly got to enjoy a decent range of food items, though perhaps not to the extreme suggested in the advert. Still, I came away feeling not just hard-done-by but ripped off, which I hadn't felt once in Tokyo up till then. Having spent five days eating and drinking in Tokyo with no trouble, and in fact with great pleasure, it stung to know the true costs of the food considering how much I paid for the guide. We also had a fairly decent working knowledge of Japanese food at this point, and while I would never call myself an expert, I could sense a certain unease once I told our guide where and what we had eaten already in Tokyo. We were likely better informed than most of their customers. 

Date of visits: 09/09/2019

Addresses: 

Manpuku Shokudo: 2 Chome-4-1 Yūrakuchō, Chiyoda City, Tokyo 100-0006, Japan

Kagoshima Kirishima Tsukada Nojo: 2-14-6 Shimbashi | 2F Mikuni Shimbashi Bldg., Minato, Tokyo 105-0004, Japan

Torahachi: 3 Chome-25-6 Shinbashi, Minato City, Tokyo 105-0004, Japan

Taiyaki Kanda-Daruma: 6 Chome-14-2, Sotokanda, Chiyoda City, Tokyo 101-0021, Japan

sakura tei, harajuku

On the evening of the day that we'd visited Tokyo Skytree, we were meeting our cousin for dinner. When we told him we had had tsukemen for lunch, he looked concerned: would we really be hungry for dinner? But we'd picked small portions at lunch for a reason, and I always think you've got to push your appetite a little when on holiday.

We met at Harajuku station, from where it was a short walk to the restaurant. Our cousin, Andrew (an Irishman who has lived in Tokyo for five years now, and speaks excellent Japanese) had made a reservation for 19.30, and we made it with time to spare.

Sakura Tei is an okonomiyaki restaurant in Harajuku, okonomiyaki being essentially large, vegetable heavy pancakes that you can customise (the name derives from the word 'okonomi', literally meaning 'what you like'). I had actually had okonomiyaki before, at Abeno near the British Museum in London. It had been good, but the server had taken full control of the mixing and cooking, and the portions had been on the small side for the price. Looking around the room at Sakura Tei, they were decidedly more generous.

It had a great vibe, certainly one of the more hip places we'd been too, at home in the trendy surroundings of Harajuku. Of everywhere we'd been, it reminded me the most of that genre of chic, Shoreditch London restaurant style -- bare wood furnishings, industrial lighting, statement indie art pieces. Everything had a faint pinkish cast and music thumped in the background. In short, it felt cool.

As at most okonomiyaki restaurants, they had a range of set options for their okonomiyaki, but also monjayaki (a runnier style of the former) and other sides, including yakisoba. You could also choose to make truly custom creations, picking ingredients to add to your base batter. We went for the simpler option of choosing the preset mixes.

Japanese cooking instructions

We ordered three to start with: one spicy, a mushroom and bacon one, and another with beef tendon, grated yam, and tiny dried shrimps. Most of the ingredients came in a very full bowl, that we mixed as best we could (without, or more likely with, making a mess) to form our okonomiyaki batter. This was then turned out on to the hot plate set into the middle of the table and shaped into thick rounds. Per our cousin's instructions, we let it cook for approximately ten minutes on one side, then crossed our fingers and flipped it with the provided spatulas. Not all our optional ingredients were combined in the bowl, so for example we had bacon, mushrooms, thick cut salami, hot dog slices, and extra eggs on the side. This is great if you've picky eaters.

Okonomiyaki, raw

Okonomiyaki, flipped

After the pancake has cooked on one side, you add your extra ingredients directly on to the hot plate, cooking them separately. Once everything is nicely browned, you put them on top of your okonomiyaki, and if so inclined, top with the standard condiments: okonomiyaki sauce, japanese mayonnaise, and bonito flakes. My dining companions aren't mayonnaise fans, though we did add okonomiyaki sauce to two. It was tasty, sweet, tangy -- like tonkatsu sauce, a good foil for the fried food.

My okonomiyaki, with the beef tendon, was delicious. Tendon never sounds particularly appealing but it was excellent here, not at all tough but providing some much needed texture to the monotextural fritter, and it had a deep, beefy flavour. The shrimps were less present, disappearing into the batter, and the grated yam sauce, while intriguing (it transforms when grated, becoming oddly gooey) had a mild, refreshing quality. The spicy option was very good, again most of the flavour coming from the generous chunks of salami and jalapenos, and it was a very accessible spice level. Bacon and mushroom was hardly going to be unpleasant either, but Ian, who ordered it (and is hardly a bacon super fan) exclaimed on how delicious it was. The quality of meat in general was very  high, everything tasting truly of the animal it was -- nothing like watery, supermarket value meat here.

We finished these off without much trouble, though we were told that the restaurant would be closing early that night due to the typhoon. Japan Railways had announced they were closing most of their lines that night in anticipation of the storm, and our cousin had warned us that we should all be on our trains home before 10pm. In fairness to its staff, then, Sakura Tei was closing at 9pm, with last orders at 8.30. We had plenty of time still at this stage, and so put in another order for a spicy monjayaki and yakisoba. Adam, who had managed well with cooking his spicy okonomiyaki, had a harder time handling the monjayaki batter on the grill which spread far more generously, but the thinner, crispy edges seemed to be the point. It was more aggressively spiced, but still easy to eat and very enjoyable. As was yakisoba (I mean, it's fried noodles with pork and the merest suggestion of vegetables, what's not to like?).

Yakisoba and spicy monjayaki

It was last orders, and so we ordered one final okonomiyaki, this time with cheese, avocado, and pork. When I flopped this one out of the bowl and on to the hot plate, there was no sizzle, and after five minutes we noticed the batter wasn't browned at all. It turned out that our hot plate had been turned off, so they must have assumed that our second order would have finished us off... Still, it was no trouble turning it back on, and the okonomiyaki was soon cooked. It was fine, tasty -- the avocado finely diced, the cheese a cheddar-like blend -- but at this stage our stomachs were waning and the threat of the typhoon (and the restaurant closing around us) was enough of a clue to get out of there.

We didn't see the bill for this meal, as our cousin insisted on paying, and thus we enjoyed it on his generosity, as well as a number of drinks. There is an all-you-can-drink option at Sakura Tei that he encouraged us on to, and so we had beers, several sours, sake, soft drinks, and various fruit cassises. We went neither hungry or thirsty, and everything looked very keenly priced, even if I couldn't tell you the final total.

Date of visit: 08/09/2019
Address: 3 Chome-20-1 Jingumae, Shibuya City, Tokyo 150-0001, Japan

rokurinsha, tokyo skytree solamachi

I've been a fan of David Chang for a little while now. I first heard of him when Jay Raynor's review of Má Pêche incited a Twitter spat, and, being a big Raynor fan, thought he seemed like an asshole. Still, you have to admire his chutzpah, and I wondered just how good he was if he was to act so entitled over a review -- a predominantly positive review! His rise in the public eye has been pretty meteoric, with his hosting the first series of The Mind of a Chef in 2012, and in more recent memory, Ugly Delicious on Netflix.

Our Airbnb had Netflix, and I was keen to introduce my brothers to Chang's refreshing outlook on authenticity. It seemed especially pertinent being that we were in Tokyo, and Chang had worked and eaten in the city. In one episode of The Mind of a Chef, he expounded on the wonders of tsukemen ramen, a fairly recent innovation in the Japanese ramen scene, and a Tokyo speciality, featuring cold noodles served separate to a hot, concentrated dipping sauce. He visited the famous Rokurinsha on Tokyo Ramen Street, and we watched in food-envy as he slurped down thick, udon-like noodles, apparently struck dumb by its deliciousness.

I hadn't planned a visit to Rokurinsha. Generally I figured out our itinerary by sights we wanted to see, and then hoped to find good restaurants nearby, which was never difficult. But one day we had tickets to visit Tokyo Skytree, and I had included plenty of time to explore the immense mall of its lower floors -- including its dining options.

Tokyo Skytree

And just our luck, there was a branch of Rokurinsha on the sixth floor. It didn't get as good reviews as the original, but once I floated the option, my brothers were sold on going.

There was a small queue. Outside the shop's front runs a line of stools, perhaps 12 or 14. When we arrived, it was around 14.00, likely after the lunchtime rush, but most of the chairs were taken. They manage the queue very well, however, and we noticed how most of the people waiting were browsing menus. As the line moved along and we could take a seat, a server rushed out and gave us a menu straight away. Excellent -- we could decide while we waited, speeding up the ordering process once we actually got in the door.

Japanese and English language menu
(sorry for the glare)

We knew we were meeting our cousin for okonomiyaki that night, so we decided not to go too crazy, especially since ramen can leave you rolling out the door. We each picked a small order of the regular dip noodles (i.e. toppings included menma, seaweed, uzumaki fishcake, and pork, but no seasoned egg), and ordering was done via vending machine: you put in your money, choose your options on the touchscreen, and hand the printed tickets to the waiter. Despite the queue, it only took 15 or so minutes for us to be seated at the counter, three alongside, though there were proper tables available if you were so inclined.

We had a great view behind-the-scenes, and staff were run off their feet managing the hungry crowds, even this late into the lunchtime rush. It wasn't long before our noodles arrived. The small was a perfect portion, and at only ¥780, insanely good value. The chilled noodles had a satisfying mouthfeel: chewy, bouncy, tasty in their own right. Dipped into the hot, concentrated broth, it was on a whole other level. The stock was deeply flavoured in that effortlessly effort-full way that Japanese stocks so often are, layered with umami. Miso, seaweed, dashi, animal fat, all combining to one of the most subtly intense stocks I've ever had. The noodles were the perfect vehicle, slippery and fat, with plenty of surface area to take on the flavour. Toppings were tasty too, of course, but almost superfluous when the base ingredients were this good.

At each seat, there was a tray of condiments and a jug of iced water, which was heaven considering the temperatures that day (well over 35°C). But even better was a kettle of hot water. Once you were finished with the noodles, this could be poured into your soup bowl to turn the remaining stock into a delicious, drinkable broth. Want to see some dipping in action?

I'm sure there are better places serving tsukemen ramen. Lesser known, hole-in-the-wall joints where the stock is made by some ancient ojisan over the period of a month. But Rokurinsha's is pretty damn good. I can see how you could crush a regular size bowl without even thinking. And maybe even ask for an extra helping of noodles.

Speaks for itself, no?

Date of visit: 08/09/2019

Address: 1-1-2 Oshiage | 6F Tokyo Skytree Town Solamachi, Sumida 131-0045, Tokyo, Japan