• Tempura Mokkosu | A Local Deity Doing Its Own Thing

    Gunma, just 50 minutes from Tokyo by shinkansen, is genuinely a perfect destination for a short trip.

    Went to the Gunma Safari Park and watched capybaras, red kangaroos, and giraffes wander freely around the grounds, and fed a variety of baby lions and tigers. In the evening, back around Takasaki Station, there’s a tempura restaurant with a Tabelog score of 4.28, ranked eighth nationwide in Japan.

    The restaurant’s name, “Mokkosu,” comes from a dialect word from the owner’s hometown of Kumamoto — it roughly means “a stubborn one,” someone who sticks to their own convictions.

    And chef Yamaguchi-san’s cooking genuinely has a style all its own.

    Yamaguchi-san trained in his early years at Tempura Shinjuku Tsunahachi, a century-old Tokyo institution, so his cooking is grounded in Edomae style — but he uses taihaku sesame oil for frying, keeps the batter thin, and makes every seasoning in-house. The finished dishes aim for something light, refined, and true to the ingredient’s own flavor.

    The restaurant runs quietly and unhurriedly — seven counter seats plus a private room, and on most days it only opens for one dinner seating, generally bookable with two weeks’ notice. (Though sometimes, on a whim, they’ll open for lunch for a stretch — they post about it on the restaurant’s Instagram/Ameblo.)

    There are some fun little details — the restaurant has little owl figurines hidden all around, every guest’s spot at the counter has a bottle of “Ukon no Chikara” (a famous Japanese liver-support/hangover remedy) already set out, and behind Yamaguchi-san there’s a mountain of stacked taihaku sesame oil tins.

    Steamed Oyster, Shari

    The restaurant has a solid sake selection; we opted for the restaurant’s own pairing, expecting to drink some local Gunma sake, but instead landed right in Kumamoto sake territory — turns out the chef’s hometown brews really are the best fit for his food.

    The whole meal’s ingredients were laid out for us in advance, but the meal actually opened with a “rice bowl” (wait, what).

    Steamed oyster with a bite of shari — the oyster wasn’t huge, but it ate plump and rich, its freshness locked in well. Paired with the rice, it felt like the appetite switched on instantly, and it also quietly set the stage for a few more rounds of drinks.

    Shiitake Mushroom (Gunma)

    Shrimp (20% Cooked)

    Shrimp (Fully Cooked)

    Shrimp Head

    While tending to the tempura in the pot, Yamaguchi-san walked us through the three items on the seasoning plate: a base layer of sea salt from the Amakusa Islands in Kumamoto, plus a fruit-infused salt and a shiitake salt. Each dish, he noted, calls for a different pairing.

    Live-caught shrimp tempura is a signature dish at Tempura Shinjuku Tsunahachi, where Yamaguchi-san once trained. Watching the proprietress (Yamaguchi’s wife) prep the shrimp at the counter with clean, efficient movements, then Yamaguchi coat it in batter and drop it into the oil in one quick motion — it was a well-oiled two-person assembly line.

    The 20%-cooked shrimp paired with salt, its coating fried wafer-thin — one big bite, crisp and sweet, still juicy toward the center. The fully cooked one paired with shiitake powder, a firm bounce hitting right at the front teeth. And the shrimp head, of course, wasn’t wasted — served with tentsuyu dipping sauce and fruit salt, one rich, one delicate, two different ways of expressing the same sweet, umami-packed bomb.

    The perfect ending for a shrimp’s life.

    Snap Pea

    Lotus Root (Ibaraki)

    True Bonito

    Taranome (Angelica Tree Bud)

    Scallion, Ground Pork

    “The peas are from the Ishimura family — dip them in salt and tentsuyu. The lotus root came from Mr. Miyamoto in Ibaraki — dip that one in the fruit salt.”

    Talking about the growers behind these vegetables, Yamaguchi-san spoke like he was catching up with old friends.

    It really is a local restaurant — the vegetables are stunning. The lotus root managed to be crisp and starchy at once; sit with it a moment and there’s even a faint floral, white-blossom aroma.

    After the bonito, a bit of wild vegetable slipped in as a palate cleanser. The next course made us laugh the moment it was explained.

    Grilled scallion tempura with ground pork — turns out even across totally different culinary traditions, people land on the same pairing. The “countryside” scallion was unexpectedly soft, sweet, and tender, while the pork brought plenty of chew, getting more fragrant with every bite.

    Spinach Root

    Watched Yamaguchi-san pull flour from the fridge and mix a fresh batch of batter, then set about frying what turned out to be an attention-grabbing vegetable.

    A whole spinach root, dipped in salt or mushroom salt — from a clean, juicy sweetness up front to the lingering sweetness of the root itself, every bite carried real freshness.

    Only from Yamaguchi-san’s explanation did we learn the restaurant currently uses “full moon salt,” a special method within the Amakusa salt tradition — the salt is harvested during the full moon, based on the belief that seawater’s mineral content peaks at that time.

    Taro (Gunma)

    Tiger Pufferfish Milt

    The taro was mashed into a purée before frying, which stripped away its usual sticky, glutinous texture. We were instructed to dredge it thoroughly through tentsuyu with grated daikon — a perfect combination of an upfront freshness with a soft, substantial bite, and a delicate taro fragrance lingering afterward.

    The tiger pufferfish milt that followed burst with juice the moment you bit in — a creamy, custard-like center, eaten while still piping hot.

    Vegetables, live seafood, offal — the quality of the ingredients and the precision of the cooking never once slipped.

    The local gods really are gods.

    Fujimoto’s White Amadai (Ehime) / Kuromebaru (Black Rockfish)

    Horse Meat Rice Bowl

    A break in the tempura course, and it’s time for Yamaguchi-san’s otsumami segment.

    White amadai from Fujimoto Suisan has long been a favorite of high-end restaurants — quick-bled and low-temperature aged, the flesh is soft with a hint of crispness, its sweet umami tightly concentrated.

    For the kuromebaru, we watched Yamaguchi-san sear the surface with a charcoal stick and torch — tender flesh, beautiful fat, and the charcoal aroma judged just right.

    There was also a rice bowl with deep-red meat, firm and full of gamey character. Only after finishing it were we told it was horse meat, flown in from Kumamoto that very morning — specifically the cut near the horse’s armpit, from the shoulder-and-chest area.

    Genuinely impressed that Yamaguchi-san’s otsumami were every bit as remarkable as his tempura.

    Daikon Nori Roll

    Sea Urchin Rice

    Julienned daikon rolled in kombu as a palate cleanser — not a trace of daikon’s grassy edge, just a clean, sweet, savory bite. Then came the sea urchin we’d been shown earlier — the Toichi uni was substantial, and it genuinely didn’t occur to us that we’d get sea urchin rice this good at a tempura restaurant. Total satisfaction.

    The sake went down fast — we’d basically worked our way through every one of the restaurant’s little owl cups, and ended up falling for one shaped like a roly-poly toy.

    “If you use this cup, you’ve got to bottoms-up every single sip.”

    A sneakily mischievous line, drifting over from the fryer.

    Clam

    Eel

    Ibaraki Sweet Potato

    Served in its own shell, the clam came with a whole cast of rich accompaniments.

    For the clam tempura, Yamaguchi-san paired it with aonori-flecked shari for a lift of umami, mixed in with sautéed onion, fried onion, steamed onion, and onion soy sauce. A bite of sweetness wrapped in beautiful freshness — genuinely delicate cooking that eats fragrant and rich.

    The conger eel was also just prepped by the proprietress on the cutting board right beside us, using only the softest middle section for the tempura. The eel’s tender richness came through fully, and paired with vinegar-pickled pepper, the crisp crunch carried just the right hint of freshness.

    The last piece, Ibaraki sweet potato, served almost like the tempura course’s dessert, closing things out with a refined, aged sweetness.

    Horse Meat Curry

    The vegetable case held ingredients available for extra orders — the guest next to us ordered every single one of them in one go. Quietly impressed by the Japanese middle-aged diner who could put away six otsumami, fifteen pieces of tempura, and N rounds of extras.

    Yamaguchi-san brought out a little wooden board covered with rice-dish options — we didn’t expect such a wide range of choices, all either fragrant or good for settling the stomach after drinking.

    Curry, obviously — but we didn’t expect it to be horse meat curry. Intensely rich tomato and heavy spice went toe-to-toe with the gaminess, while on top, a huge piece of fried onion tempura made everything smell insanely good once stirred together. Way too full, but we still made a determined effort to scrape the plate clean.

    This curry alone could probably carry its own restaurant.

    Strawberry Sauce Ice Cream

    The whole meal left us completely full, with a sense of happiness that came from ingredients truly in season. Generous portions, bold flavors, fried food throughout — yet somehow there was no heaviness afterward, just a clean, sweet taste left in the mouth. Every vegetable seemed to splash its own personality into his frying oil.

    It was also genuinely enjoyable watching the two of them work the counter together — every table moved at its own pace, but within this small space, everything ran in perfect, unhurried order.

    As we left, Yamaguchi-san came out and directed the taxis, moonlighting as parking-lot staff.

    Once again — the local gods really are gods.

    Deeply curious what Tempura Mokkosu will look like next season.

    Tempura Mokkosu

    Thursday – Tuesday 17:30 – 22:30

    https://www.tempuramokkosu.com/

    Omakase ¥26,620++

  • The Sushi Restaurant That’s Truly Impossible to Book | Sushi Obana

    I’ve been to Gunma Prefecture twice this year, but there was one restaurant I’d been longing for that I could never book — Sushi Obana, Gunma’s number one sushi restaurant. Many food lovers consider it one of Japan’s top three sushi restaurants.

    At this point, Sushi Obana basically doesn’t release seats to the public anymore, and the reservation line only takes regulars. This time, it took help from three different connections to finally get this meal.

    Distance-wise, whether you start from Tokyo or Gunma’s Takasaki Station, it takes over an hour by train to reach Tatebayashi, where Sushi Obana is located. Oh, and this happens to also be one of the hottest towns in Japan.

    Once again proof that Japan’s small towns produce legendary restaurants.

    The restaurant is now run by the second-generation chef, Teru Obana, who transformed it from a modest streetside sushi shop into a beautiful sushi restaurant. Since 2001, Obana-san has driven 80 kilometers to Tokyo’s Toyosu Market twice a week to personally select ingredients. So even now, in an age of efficient logistics, Sushi Obana is always the very first stop in Gunma for fresh seafood shipped in cold chain.

    True Grouper

    Straw-Seared Bonito

    When I wrote about Tempura Mokkosu before, I mentioned Amakusa’s “full moon salt” and “half moon salt.” This time, sitting down at the counter, I saw the same pairing again — plated in a shape that matched their names.

    As for pairing, it can be adjusted to personal taste — the former is rounder with a stronger minerality, while the latter focuses on a clean, direct lift of umami.

    Personally I like grouper with the half-moon salt, while the straw-seared bonito might pair more distinctively with the full-moon salt. You get a smokiness that rushes straight up your nose, then cuts off abruptly, followed by gently textured fish, with the umami and lingering sweetness staying fine and long on the palate.

    Mantis Shrimp

    Sea Urchin Parfait

    Abalone

    Abalone Liver Purée

    Obana’s otsumami (drinking snacks) still feature the familiar mantis shrimp, sea urchin, and abalone, but the preparation absolutely breaks from convention.

    The mantis shrimp came as a male-female pair for comparison — female on the left, male on the right — with the roe’s richness playing off sharply against the sweetness of the sauce on top. The abalone was cooked to a crisp bite with intensely concentrated umami, and the abalone liver wasn’t left as a mere side note either — it got its own dish, soft and savory, as a standalone drinking snack.

    The sea urchin parfait is one of Obana’s signatures — bafun uni that skips Toyosu Market entirely and comes straight from the port to the restaurant, shaken in a cocktail shaker and mixed together with shari (sushi rice). The slightly underdone rice mingles with sweetness, saltiness, umami, and a full-bodied minerality — who could resist a combination this quietly luxurious? One bite, pure happiness.

    Nakazumi (Grown Kohada, colloquially “Ōgohada” / Bushi)

    Manila Clam

    Futomaki Roll

    Obana-san pulled two beautiful silver-skinned fish out of the fridge. “Today’s menu is going to put on a three-generation kohada show.”

    The fully grown kohada was made into bo-zushi (pressed sushi); the flesh had a slight springiness, and the acidity balanced beautifully with the ginger tucked inside.

    Then a futomaki roll was passed over — look at that gorgeous cross-section of tuna, who wouldn’t be dazzled? A sushi restaurant tucked away in a “village” was quietly flexing the sourcing power that comes with being Gunma’s sushi don.

    あん肝のポン酢漬け

    Arctic Surf Clam

    Dinner started at 5:30, and by 6:03 we were already on the 10th otsumami course — but Obana-san’s pacing between courses was so skillfully handled that it never felt rushed.

    Before the sushi began, monkfish liver marinated in ponzu for three days was served — remarkably, it had a texture just like cheese. The salty umami and creamy aroma were handled gently and in balance, melting the moment it hit the mouth.

    Isaki (Chicken Grunt)

    Shinko

    Kohada

    After more than a dozen otsumami courses, it was finally sushi’s turn to take the stage.

    A beautiful isaki, its flesh still translucent. The fat content was just right, rounding out the flavor of this white fish.

    Shinko and kohada came one after another, their silver skin gleaming beautifully. The former offered a soft, elongated fish flavor; the latter, a hard-hitting, highly concentrated umami. The contrast was unmistakable.

    Salmon Roe

    Salmon roe is another Obana signature — before tasting it, it was hard to imagine salmon roe with a texture like ice cream. Not the usual image of little juice-bursting pearls, but umami that melts right in your mouth. Absolutely incredible.

    The last few pieces of sushi hit pretty hard, so I asked Obana-san for a glass of water. He pulled out mineral water imported from Hawaii.

    “That’s what we drink here~”

    Whew — a surfer through and through, apparently.

    Akami (Lean Tuna)

    Tuna (Sinew + Center Cut)

    Otoro (Fatty Tuna Belly)

    Three pieces of tuna — akami from Hokkaido’s Funka Bay, otoro from Miyagi Prefecture. Each slice was cut generously thick, and against the shari, the differences in flavor and fat between each fish and each cut really came through.

    The real shock came when Obana-san served a piece of “double tuna” — the sinewy cut where the belly meets the akami. Most places would mince a cut like this into paste, but he kept the full thickness of the meat intact, delivering a serious impact with every chew. The texture and fatty aroma of the two sections balanced perfectly in the mouth — savory, soft, with a lingering sweetness.

    Aori Squid (Bigfin Reef Squid)

    Extra-Large Kisu (Japanese Whiting)

    Oni-Aji (Giant Horse Mackerel)

    Arctic Surf Clam

    After a continuous assault of silver-skinned fish and tuna, the pace started to lighten up — though it still kept showing off Obana’s sourcing chops.

    Kisu from Tokyo Bay, but this one was noticeably bigger than usual. Early summer is prime season — the flesh was rich but still stayed refreshing.

    The oni-aji that followed isn’t actually a distinct species — it refers to an extra-large, extra-fatty horse mackerel. A thick slice draped over the shari let you really feel the springiness of the flesh and the impact of its fat.

    Sweet Shrimp

    Radish Sprout

    Grilled Shrimp

    Simmered Clam

    The sweet shrimp was another god-tier piece — on the outside it looked like a shiny pink-white shrimp paste, but inside it was actually wrapped around a whole small sweet shrimp. Soft and crisp at once, the sweetness and umami were amplified to a whole new dimension of surprise.

    Between the grilled shrimp and the simmered clam that followed, a vegetarian piece was slipped in — kombu-cured radish sprouts, offering a faint bitterness as a palate reset while the kombu carried the umami through. No fish involved, but this one piece of sushi, arriving right around the 80% mark of the meal, cleared the head and set things up nicely for the meal’s final stretch.

    Toichi No.1 Sea Urchin

    Brown Sugar Milk Pudding

    Toichi No.1 — the last time I had this was also at a restaurant in Gunma. Among Gunma’s top handful of restaurants, even though the cooking styles differ, there’s a degree of overlap in ingredient choices.

    By habit, I still prefer sea urchin paired with shari as sushi at Obana. The oceanic flavor teaming up with a beautiful sweetness — even after 11 otsumami and 15 pieces of sushi, it still delivers an explosive sense of happiness.

    The meal wrapped up at 6:55, and taking the train back to Tokyo, it was still only just past eight. In under five hours and with nearly 30 pieces, we got to experience the skill of a local legend — efficiently satisfying, to say the least.

    For Obana-san himself, what he wants is to give the best possible service to a very small number of guests. So he stays focused here in this small town of Tatebayashi, sourcing the best fish and hosting guests in his best possible state.

    This handsome older gentleman has his own particular quirks — he loves surfing and is noticeably more tanned than most people, yet his hands are unusually pale.

    “Don’t surfers’ hands get tanned?” “I take deliberate care of them — I think a sushi chef absolutely needs beautiful hands.”

    “You and the proprietress get along so well.” “I’m scared of my wife, wouldn’t dare cross her. (laughs)”

    People say Obana-san’s cooking is like his own little theater — the unusual location, a one-of-a-kind culinary style, seafood sourcing that can only be called extravagant, and his sly, playful personality.

    “When can I book again?” “Ask me again in a month — I’m off to Hawaii to surf in January.”

    So anyone who’s been must be dying to go back. Hoping to see this place again next year.

    Sushi Obana

    5-1 Otemachi, Tatebayashi, Gunma

    Tue/Wed/Thu/Fri 5:30 PM / 7:30 PM (two seatings)

    Sat 5:00 PM, Sun 12:00 PM / 3:00 PM (two seatings)

    Holidays 12:00 PM

    Omakase ¥27,500 / 33,000++