JC reporter Jane Prinsley visits upmarket Japanese restaurant, Umu:
I could have easily missed my reservation at Umu. Hidden behind a vast wall, you have to know where you’re going. A discreet tap on a wooden door ushers you inside – and it is a world far removed from the bustling streets of Mayfair.
Entering Umu is to step out of reality and into a kingdom where waiters silently observe your every move, and dinner costs more over a month’s rent — mine at least.
It seems that Jews eat more sushi than matzah ball soup, so Umu felt like a natural choice for a JC review.
Celebrating 20 years this year and boasting two Michelin stars, this is a far cry from pre-prepared platters served after Shul. This is the world of Kyoto cuisine of which I knew nothing.
Hidden behind a door in Mayfair, you have to know where you're going
The maître d', exemplified the famed Japanese hospitality, walking us through every choice. Dozens of staff glide silently across the cavernous room, popoulated by only eight other diners.
The service is so impeccable you’d swear they’re reading your mind. My glass was never empty and the moment I had a question, another waiter popped up to explain. Because this is food that needs interpreting.
Elegant morsels are presented in ornate arrangements, and each complex fragment has a story. This is kaiseki dining, a traditional Japanese experience where the chef presents the best of what is on offer. Chef Ryo Kamatsu heads up his army of chefs across two kitchens, with the sushi bar on full display revealing men silently cutting, twisting and perfecting their art.
The miniature amuse-bouche demonstrated the distinctive delicate flavours and unusual combinations of Kyoto cuisine
There's something distinctly Jewish about the way this food tells a story. Like making its way around a seder plate, each course was unexpected. An amuse-bouche of skinned tomato with jelly-like seaweed noodles and a rice cracker was followed by a similarly stunning appetiser: melt-in-the-mouth tuna tartare with caviar and mountain yam potatoes, served on a bed of sunnny orange (fish) gelatine with fresh wasabi and seaweed.
Tuna tartare adorned with caviar and yam potatoes sat in orange seaweed gelatine
Sea bass, red sea bream, yellowtail, more tuna, and bonito greeted us on an extravagant plate of sashimi. The fish sourced from Cornwall, Spain, and the oceans of Japan. Much of Umu’s menu is flown in, including Japanese magnolia leaves.
A clear soup made from kombu seaweed and sea bass stock followed. Edamame mochi at the bottom of the beautiful bowl was starchy and earthy. Sea bass, steamed and shaped into a rose, was firm and flaky — not entirely unwelcome after the melt-in-the-mouth raw fish.
Umu's special selection of sushi
Tuna belly was lightly cooked with bonito skin flakes and Padrón pepper. Another piece featured blanched tuna served with white miso and Japanese lemon. Sea bass was cut through with citrus while the bonito was paired with white radish. And the rice! Firm, flavourful and perfectly sticky.
And just when you think the menu must be nearing its end, there’s more. Sea bass — with white radish, ginger sauce, Japanese chives, herbs, and lime. The portion is generous, and the fish subtle.
Indulgent desserts: chocolate fondant and the ‘Mayfair Garden’
Dessert departs from tradition — a decadent chocolate fondant adorned with gold leaf and buckwheat ice cream, and the ‘Mayfair Garden’, a cherry-misu with layers of cherry, fig, cream and sake presented as a miniature garden, complete with a watering can. It's a kitsch departure from the high-end kaiseki menu, but deliciously indulgent, and topped off with miso-coated almonds.
Stepping out of Umu after seven courses and three and a half hours, high on sake and fish, reality returns with a thump. Homeless people cram the doorways of designer shops on New Bond Street and war in the Middle East trundles on, but if this were my last night on earth, I’d die happy in the fullness of the night – and I don’t think I would mind the cost.
