Restaurants in Tokyo
Innovation is the trump card of restaurants in Tokyo. All kinds of sea creatures, from sea urchin and crab to eel and stingray, are apt to wind up on your plate. Noodles, from ramen to soba and more, abound.
One of the best restaurants in Tokyo is Nodaiwa. Not far from Edogawa Park, this shop serves some of the best unagi (eel) dishes—so good in fact, that the line often stretches well past the door. If you want to try your hand at Japanese cooking, visit the Tsukiji Fish Market, known as Japan's Kitchen. It's the world's largest seafood market and moves at lightning speed. If you're dedicated, you can wake early to watch the tuna auction get underway at four o'clock in the morning.
For a break from the typical Tokyo restaurant, consider Union Square Tokyo and Pierre Gagnaire à Tokyo. Union Square Tokyo puts a Western spin on traditional dishes in the Tokyo midtown area. Meanwhile, French chef Pierre Gagnaire runs his namesake restaurant on the 36th floor of the Intercontinental Hotel.
On a single street in Tsukishima (a manmade island in the city), there are approximately 50 restaurants serving monja, a kind of pancake (some say omlette) made from a batter poured atop meat or seafood, onions, and cabbage, cooked on a teppan griddle. Monja Hazama, distinguishe
Located on the edge of Aoyama National Cemetary, Kaotan Ramen has a notably shabby exterior and simple interior: a long, worn wooden table and benches across from an enclosed kitchen with an order window.
The restaurant is obscured behind a dramatic façade of weathered steel and glass. Regulars love this spot not just for the gently priced omakase menu of delicious dishes—just $50 per person—but also for his rapport with the amiable owner, Kuniatsu Kondo.
Kurkku Kitchen is part of Tokyo's budding green scene. Located in a modern, two-story glass and wood, architect-designed building with a turf roof, the restaurant focuses on organic produce and meat prepared with a French flair (although the restaurant's name is Finnish for a type of pickle).
The Scene: In Tokyo’s Akasaka district behind an unmarked door, whose only “sign” is engraved on the door handle, is one of the world’s smallest fine restaurants—with only two tables.