The Old Master of Osaka Style Broiled Unagi

KUROMON KAWAHIRO IS PERMANENTLY CLOSED According to first-person reports from several readers, Kuromon Kawahiro, an Osaka-style Unagiya and one of my favorite memories of Japan, has permanently closed its doors. This page will be left in its current state, as a tribute to Chef Kawano Iwao and the pinnacle of Osaka-style Unagi that he crafted out of his very hands. For readers planning a trip to Osaka, the following restaurants all serve Osaka-style broiled Unagi: Honke Shibato - a 300-years-old Osaka institution Uoi Honten - another venerable restaurant, a little younger at 140-years-old. Una Shige - another Osaka-style Unagiya

Food Review: KUROMON KAWAHIRO (Osaka)
Address: Osaka-shi Chuo-Ku Nihonbashi 1-22-9
Hours: Mon-Thu from 11:00-14:00 (According to Yahoo Japan)
Website/Map: http://gourmet.yahoo.co.jp/0002146335/P006397/
Directions: First go for a walk at Kuromon Market (Nihonbashi subway station, Exit 10, walk Southeast for a couple of blocks). It will help work up your appetite. Then from the South end of the market (opposite from the Nihonbashi side), walk East for one little block, then turn left and comb your way North, towards the Nihonbashi direction. A couple blocks later you'll see its black (Japanese only) sign on the left, as shown in the picture at the bottom of this article.


You must be wondering:

1) What is Osaka Style Unagi anyway?
2) How is it different from the Unagi at my local Japanese restaurant?

If you're a Japanese food enthusiast, you should know that there are at least two major styles of preparing Unagi -- Kanto-Ryu (Tokyo Style) and Kansai-Ryu (Osaka Style). The easy way to tell is to flip over your Unagi, skin side up. If the white skin is in the middle of the fillet, it's Tokyo Style; if the white skin is at the edges, it's closer to Osaka Style. Easy enough?

The real reason behind this is that Tokyo Style slices open the Unagi at the *BACK*, while Osaka Style guts the Unagi at the *BELLY* side. One theory is that Tokyo was the centre of the Samurai society during the Edo period (ie. the Shogun lived there), and so slicing open the abdomen is a taboo linked to the Samurai class's unique ritual suicide (or execution) of Seppuku. But another plausible theory is that fillet is thinnest at the belly, and by slicing open from the back the chef would be able to keep the thin regions of the fillet from over-charring. In Osaka though, Unagi is gutted just like any other fish. I guess Kansai people are more concerned with efficiency and customer turnover.


The other major difference between the two styles is the steaming process that exists only in Tokyo Style. In essence the Unagi is flame broiled, steamed, then brushed with sauce and flamed broiled again. The steaming not only removed excess fat, but also creates the softness and delicate taste that is widely considered to be more "feminine." But in Osaka Style, the Unagi is flame broiled, brushed with sauce, flamed broiled, brushed with sauce ... until the degree of charring and crispiness is to the Chef's liking. Thus the fillet is supposed to be crispier, stronger flavored, and "masculine," as we're about to find out.


This is the place. I've spent hours reading Unagi reviews on Japanese websites and blogs, and this was my choice. It's not the cleanest location (next to Osaka's largest market), and it's not cheap either ... Yahoo Japan's old review reported 3200 yen ($32) for an order of Mamushi (Kansai-style Unagi on rice) for lunchtime(!), which is more expensive than even the 200-plus year old Unagi specialist Shibato. So why did we pick this place out of many reputable candidates?

Because I trust Majin-san's Unagi Review Blog. Now THIS is a serious Unagi lover, and if you can read Japanese you can see his 160-plus reviews of Unagi restaurants. Most of the restaurants are in Tokyo where he lives, but there are occasional reviews from other parts of Japan. This is where I first read about Kuromon Kawahiro, the only Kansai Style Unagi restaurant near the top of his list. So I decided that I MUST give this place a try, if I ever travel to Osaka in my lifetime.

So the picture above is what the restaurant looked like -- garbage cans on the side (must have been a garbage collection day), someone's bicycle in front, and only a couple of old signage reading "Kuromon Kawahiro" in Japanese. We actually passed by this place at 11:20 and saw its door half open, so we thought they weren't yet ready and went back to the Kuromon Market for another round of shopping. But when we came back at 12:00 it was the same half open door. That's when I decided to stick my head closer to the door for a peek, and an old lady waved me in.


"Gomen kudasai," I said, excuse me. It was a narrow little shop with only three staffs -- the old Chef working on the Unagi behind the counter, the old lady who was the Chef's wife, and a middle aged daughter. There were no tables, only a counter with about 10 seats, where the three of them "Dozo"-ed us to sit down.

"Mamushi de Yoroshii ne?" (Mamushi okay for you?), the old lady asked. Mamushi is "Unagi on Rice" in the Kansai dialect.

"Ah, hai. Futari" (Yes. Two people.) I hadn't had a real chance to practice my Japanese since a trip to Tokyo several years ago.

Up to this point I still hadn't seen anything resembling a menu, outside or inside the shop. I looked around at the walls, and the counter, and then I realized, THERE IS NO WRITTEN MENU!! And no Price List whatsoever. So I just ordered two bowls of Unagi on Rice, at a price known only to the shop. I knew the rough price from browsing Yahoo Japan, but this is getting weird even for the Japanese.


At this time the Chef was still busy skewering the Unagi ... several big stainless steel containers of them. He must had spent the entire morning filleting and cleaning the eels, and now he's skewering the last few and finishing up. With every eel, the old master meticulously inserted 10 or so steel skewers perpendicularly through the fillet, as close to the skin as possible, but without piercing the skin. Then as a final step he hosed water over the skin the to wash any remaining mucous off the Unagi.



"Shashin wo totte mo ii desu ka?" (May I take pictures?) I asked, and the Chef replied with a delighted "Hai, dozo dozo." That's when we started an odd conversation, me in broken Japanese plus single words of Japanized-English, and the chef, Kawano-san, fully in Japanese. Chef Kawano was like ...

"It takes three years, just to learn to skewer the Unagi."

"Chikara. It takes strength to do all this." (Pointing to the several containers of eels)

"This is a single portion. No, THAT is a double portion of Unagi."

... and so on. I gained a lot of random knowledge about Unagi.


I've seen Unagi being prepared before, but never at this close range, in front of a master chef, and who is willing to demonstrate all his techniques. The Unagi is undoubtedly Osaka Style, with the white belly skin at the fillet's edges. And looking at the thickness of the supposedly thinnest part of the fillet, I began to wonder if this was really a single portion, and how we were supposed to finish the meal. When Chef Kawano finished all the skewering, he took a double portion of fillets with the skewers sticking between the fingers of his fisted hand, and walked towards the kitchen.

At this point I did something I normally would never do. I took my camera, followed to the opposite side of the open kitchen, and asked "May I take pictures?" again ...



"Ii desu yo," Chef Kawano said as he turned on his stove, AND his intensity. For the next 10 minutes, the Chef would constantly use his skewer-wielding right hand to adjust the fillet's distance from the fire while using his left hand to adjust the flame. He started with the strongest flame, holding the Unagi at 30cm above the grill, and rotating between the meat and skin sides constantly. All housewives know this scorches the outside and locks in the juices, but how much scorching is enough? That, is the experience that makes it worth several thousand yen.


After several minutes of grilling, Chef Kawano started to slaver the Unagi sauce onto the meat side of the fillet with a small brush. The grilling continued, and if I remember right the sauce was applied more than once.


The flame was turned much lower by then, and the fillet was placed close to the flame to infuse the sauce and reduce the excess fat. This is the clearest picture of the fillet I've got, as Chef Kawano kept flipping the fillet constantly, hundreds of times in fact, during the entire process.


It's a family business, and during this whole time Kawano-san's wife had been busy making the Unagi liver soup and preparing the side dish, while the daughter served us tea and hot napkins. Eventually the Chef re-emerges with the skewers still in his right fist, but in a shiny glazed golden brown colour, and an unbelievable smoky aroma of Unagi oil, char, soy sauce and sweet mirin.


While Chef Kawano was getting the Unagi into our rice bowl his wife served a side dish, which was basically one whole pickled Japanese cucumber under a *mountain* of Katsuo-bushi (skipjack tuna shavings), seasoned with a Dashi soy sauce. The picture shows the serving for one person. I don't know if this is a typical side dish for Kansai Style Unagi, but I've never had this much Katsuo-bushi shavings served to me in any side dish or even main course. An interesting way to start a meal for sure, but as it turned out the Katsuo-bushi worked great as a appetizer, bringing an Umami taste to the mouth while not taking up much room.


Finally the moment I had been waiting for -- the famed Mamushi of Osaka. The three huge pieces of Unagi fillet in the picture is actually only half an eel, as the rice bowl is layered with Unagi at the top, then rice, then Unagi again, then rice at the bottom. Sorry about the slightly blurred pictures, but my emotions was telling me to just dump the camera aside at this point.


The first bite was unbelievable. It was a taste of intense smokiness, sweetness, saltiness, and a mouthful of savory oil all at once. As the crispy charred skin crackled under my bite, my tongue was coated with the Unagi's juices, which had maintained a wonderful strong oily flavor but without a "fishy" taste. My father once taught me how to get the fishy taste out of eel dishes, and I knew, after one bite, that Chef Kawano's technique was as good as it gets.

After that my appetite was like an avalanche, unstoppable until the last piece of Unagi fillet and the last grain of rice. I think we tried to take it slow and savour each bite of a special meal, but according to the timestamps on my pictures we probably finished it in 10 minutes. I don't know how even my wife managed to finish the entire bowl, but it was really that good.

After the meal Chef Kawano showed us his collection of newspaper articles and interviews, one of which was an interview with a Hong Kong food critic, who gave high praises, and also described the difficulties of working as an Unagi chef -- years of Unagi grilling has taken its toll on Kawano-san eyes and knees, and there is no successor to inherit his technique ...


I remembered Kawano-san saying earlier that he was born in Taiwan and didn't move to Japan until the age of 10, and that was 60 years ago. I couldn't help calculating his age, and it made me very sad. This is how I will always remember this visit: the proud, dignified eyes of the master chef standing with his creation in hand, like Michelangelo before his David.


The mystery price turned out to be 3500 yen (CAD$35) per person, but now I understood why it's worth every single yen. It was a complex feeling of sadness as we walked out of Kawano-san's little shop; perhaps it's out of my own selfishness, but I really wish him good health -- I hope to have the pleasure of watching him at the grill again, the next time I visit Osaka.

Bill for Two Persons

Mamushi x 2	7000 yen
TOTAL	7000 yen (CAD$70)