Where is the restaurant gaining most attention to foodies in Tokyo now?

Perhaps “Takiya” whose beef tenderloin tempura shows up on Instagram every day?
https://tabelog.com/en/tokyo/A1307/A130702/13185763/
What about CHIUnE, run by the son of Chef Hitoshi Furuta, a god of Chinese cuisine?
https://tabelog.com/en/tokyo/A1301/A130101/13203796/
Or maybe Ginza Shinohara, the new star of the Japanese culinary world?
https://tabelog.com/en/tokyo/A1301/A130101/13200949/

While all three are fabulous places, they have perhaps become too popular, and each has now proceeded into the “majority” zone, if we apply the innovator theory.

Restaurant hunters in Tokyo are seeking places that are more rare and unique. Naruse, which we introduce here, is the lead among such places. We even noticed other actually guests talking about it when we visited Kurogi a month ago. (Master Chef Kuroki and his colleagues were finally able to visit this month, too.)

Naruse is not located in Tokyo, which is another element of spice that attracts foodies’ curiosity. An hour’s ride on the bullet train from Tokyo, it is close to Shizuoka Station, the home territory of Mt. Fuji. It is truly a remarkable place where busy restaurant hunters spend the cost of “two hours to and from” and “ten thousand yen for transportation.”

The restaurant’s owner is a pure Shizuoka person, Chef Takeo Shimura.
He is a handsome chef with a sharp looking face who used to surf the local coast.

After studying animal husbandry at the local agricultural college, Chef Shimura went to Australia to study abroad, and got his first job at a Japanese restaurant in Sydney. After his awakening as a culinary artist, he had no hesitation to being work at a kappo restaurant in Shizuoka after returning to Japan. He is strongly attracted to tempura, the style of dished for which he was responsible during his apprenticeship, and he has now opened his own place to pursue its ways throughout his life.

Shimura has always been particular about vegetables, which is natural as a graduate of an agricultural college. He used his own legwork to search for sources of robust vegetables grown using traditional farming methods, such as high temperature heat from geothermal power in Shizuoka. He gained farmers’ trust by participating in harvesting with them.

Another irreplaceable factor of Naruse is the high quality local seafood in Shizuoka. Shimura became acquainted with Naoki Maeda, of the famous wholesale distributer Sasue, which provides fish to Yoshitake, a 3-star sushi restaurant in Tokyo and Sydney’s famous Tetsuya’s. Soon, he got the hang of dealing with fish. With Maeda’s strong support, he now uses only the best of the best fish in Shizuoka.

“Naruse is a crazy place. It’s outside Tokyo, but you can go and come back within the day, so you should go when you can still get reservations.”
I made a call right after getting this tip in early April. I finally had the chance to visit a month later, at lunchtime on a certain Saturday in May.

Naruse is located on a residential street five minutes by cab from Shizuoka Station. I made a big mistake by arriving an hour before my reservation, hoping that I might do some sightseeing in the meanwhile. There wasn’t even a coffee shop around, so I spent the hour gazing at wine, which I’m not even interested in, in the wine shop of a department store.

I arrived in front of the restaurant at 11:55. After waiting a moment, the manager invited me in at 12 sharp.

Maybe it is because it was a Saturday, but the seven seats at the bar each seemed to be filled with guests from Tokyo.
“Welcome. Do you have any dislikings?” After I was seated, Shimura placed a marvelous cut of bass on the cutting board and started to prepare it. His seemed more like a sushi chef in Ginza than a tempura chef.

I looked around and noticed a box of vegetables behind the bar. They were completely different from the meager ones you would find in Tokyo, and this raised my expectations.

The omakase (chef’s choice) lunch menu (12,000 yen) started with bass sashimi prepared very neatly. Two pieces were served fresh, and two more were served rare by running them through frying oil for just a moment.
The other guests and I raised our voices in surprise at the high quality of fish that might beat that of a sushi restaurant. Shimura is apparently used to such responses, as he busily started the prep for the tempura with his assistant.

After observing his procedure, it seems that Shimura dislikes doing much prep before opening. He started by cleaning the fish, and then moved on to shelling the live prawns, followed by washing the vegetables. I couldn’t help but ask why. He responded coolly, “I want to keep the ingredients in their natural state as long possible, until just before frying.”

On the day of my visit, we were served asparagus, bamboo shoots, two wild plants, scabbard fish, oval squid, kuruma prawn, season-fresh onion, potato, sweet potato, and white horsehead.

The three root vegetables, onion, potato and sweet potato, were very interesting.
Naruse’s house style for root vegetables calls for resting them on a cutting board for a while after frying. This is a rather heretical approach for those of us form Tokyo who were taught to “eat Tempura straight right after frying, when it is at its best,” but Shimura says, “There is a heat that can only be given by the remaining heat.” He goes on to add, “Basically, we form the crust with the hot temperature, then transfer to a lower temperature oil and slowly steam the ingredients inside the crust. In the end, we roll the tempura into the shallow parts of the oil to bake the crust. Frying the crust may not be a strictly traditional process.”
His root vegetable tempura had a nice, soft, and dry texture, but the crispy crust was outstanding as well.

The white horsehead was significant. The skin was baked with its scales on, resulting in a pleasant aroma, and the rich meat was steamed until it was sweet and tender. Shimura surprised me with his technique and idea of frying, steaming, and baking all amid the simple process of tempura.

After serving all the dished he had prepared, Shimura asked around to see if we could “Still eat some more?” and then started to prep some local hamaguri clams, which he said were “Still very small yet.” He quickly placed the meat on a skewer and fried them. They were truly marvelous! The sweet meat steamed inside the crust exploded with flavor every chew. This was the first time I had ever eaten a hamaguri clam that was tastier than that from a sushi restaurant.

The hour-and-a-half-long meal ended with a finale of tempura domburi. I knew I had arrived with high expectations, but the satisfaction this brought me was even greater than I could have hoped it would be. Shimura does not speak too much about his cooking, but his work was full of gratitude and respect for his ingredients and love of tempura.

Before I left, I told Shimura how moved I was by his food. In response, he lowered his head and apologized, “I’m sorry I couldn’t prepare the local ingredients that I would have wanted.” Was he or the food not at its best today? if so, what would Naruse be like at its best with a lineup of the best local ingredients? I was already thinking about my next visit.

Itamae-Tempura Naruse is a restaurant that truly lives up to its reputation. I left the restaurant with great satisfaction, hoping that Shimura will continue his perfect work at his own pace, without being corrupted by a quest for a Michelin star.