Visited Soba Zen Sakuraba

I ventured into the refined realm of “Kyo no Zen Sakuraba” for lunch—and let me tell you, it wasn’t just a meal. It was a full-blown culinary *episode*.

Having heard whispers of its popularity echoing through foodie circles, I arrived nearly at opening time. But lo and behold—already a packed parking lot! Fame clearly has four wheels.

The moment I stepped inside, I was swept into a symphony of sophistication. Think ambient lighting gently caressing textured walls. The vibe? Straight-up upscale elegance.

Then came the menu. Oh, the menu—it whispered promises of delicate delights.

So naturally, I played it safe with the lunch set: the “Koshi no Zen.” Classic. Reliable. Dignified.

And yes, I ordered a beer. Because lunch without beer is like a haiku with no season word—simply incomplete.

First course: a red tilefish broth—miso soup in disguise, if we’re being honest. One sip, and it kissed my stomach awake like a fairytale prince of appetite.

Next up, the Fukui vegetable salad. Enter: red onion dressing and yam with soba broth jelly. Both? Absolute flavor revelations.

Then—ah yes—the sobagaki. A rustic soba dumpling that carried the gravitas of centuries in each bite.

Three companions joined the sobagaki: soy sauce koji, straight soy, and shichimi pepper. The flavor permutations? Limitless. I felt like a flavor alchemist.

And at last, the grand finale: oroshi soba with tempura. Garnished with crispy soba kernels—because elegance always demands a crunch.

The tempura? Crafted with surgical precision—light, crisp, transcendent. The soba broth was a liquid poem. Though the soba itself had a curious chewiness—mystery of the mochi?—it barely dented the overall brilliance.

Would I return? Absolutely. Again and again, like a pilgrim to a sacred noodle shrine.

—Fin.

“Tell me what you eat, and I will tell you what you are.” – Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin