On a warm weekend afternoon, some outdoor food is very welcome. Even more so if there are drinks involved. And sometimes, the more slapdash the surroundings, the better.

Photographs from a small group of islands
On a warm weekend afternoon, some outdoor food is very welcome. Even more so if there are drinks involved. And sometimes, the more slapdash the surroundings, the better.

Tokyo regenerates at a frightening pace, and yet in older — or more neglected — parts of the city, it can often feel like time has stood still. Something that’s definitely the case with this little bar and eatery.
Run by its 78-year-old owner, the furnishings clearly haven’t changed all that much in the decades they have both been there. A staggering 46 years to be exact.

Brought up in Okayama, the mama-san moved east to Tokyo as a young woman, and, after first living in Shinjuku, she later relocated to the suburbs — opening and then running the bar with her late husband. Something she still does today. Five nights a week. 5pm to 11:30 or so. Cooking, serving and generally being lovely.

A routine she intends to continue for the foreseeable future, or for at least as long as her health holds out. Ruefully admitting that it’s talking to customers that keeps her going, and when she can’t do it any longer, a massive part of her life will be lost. As indeed will the bar itself, which will be unceremoniously shuttered up like many other businesses on the same street. And on countless other streets all over the city.

When it comes to cheap and cheerful Japanese eateries, there often seems to be a weird correlation between the amount of filth and the quality of the food. An anomaly that goes against conventional wisdom and dictates that the dirtier the place is, the more delicious the grub will be.
So on outside appearances at least, the fare in this place should be of a fairly high standard. But even if it’s not, there’s still the consolation of the fella doing the cooking looking like a thoroughly decent sort.

The end of the weekend it may have been, but on this occasion at least, some cheap beers and cheery friends were more than enough to subdue — at least temporarily — those dreaded Sunday night blues.

There is certainly no shortage of simple, rough and ready bars in Tokyo. Places where there’s no fuss or falseness whatsoever. Just unpretentious sustenance and surroundings.
Thankfully one doesn’t have to go far to find them either. In fact they can even be found on unlit, shuttered-up streets in the suburbs. Beacons of sorts in the dreary darkness.

This one was even more special too, as during its 23 year existence — it had been a tonkatsu restaurant before its current form — we were the very first western foreigners to walk through the door. A door that led, like so many others, into a tiny, antiquated establishment.

Where the dirty and dated surroundings only add to the experience.

Creating an ambience that’s just as nourishing as the wonderfully no-frills food and drink.
