Campari with freshly squeezed orange juice is served at our al fresco bar (far right), opposite A dining table set for the utage (forest banquet) with sake cups and chopsticks crafted from freshly cut bamboo, wild flower chopstick pillows and fir branch cushions.
utage As the sun sets, roaring flames from the log fire illuminate the forest. Candles flicker in the freshly cut bamboo stands and scent the air with their fresh aroma. A Balinese xylophone echoes faintly in the background, signaling that the utage will commence shortly.
The utage is a grand banquet held periodically to entertain valued guests in the most eloquent Shunju style—in montane forest far away from Tokyo. The utage commences at dusk, just as the forest begins to darken, echoing the darkness that fills a theater before a performance.
In fact the banquet is very much a theatrical performance in a natural stage setting. Candlesticks, chopsticks, and dishware are fashioned from bamboo, leaves become chopstick rests, hundreds of lanterns made from handmade washi paper light the dark mountain paths and lit glass chunks shimmer in the river flowing far below the hanging bridge at the entrance of the site. The whole mountain is transformed into Shunju.
A hearty soup is prepared with oxtail and plenty of vegetables to warm our diners in the chilly evening. The utage is a major event for us. We repeatedly go to the site to plan the layout and display. No mistakes are allowed in entertaining our most valued guests. The previous day is spent on digging the fire pit, setting up the bar counter, installing the lights, hauling the supplies up the rugged mountain path and cutting the bamboo to make the candle-stands, chopsticks and dishware. The actual day is spent cooking and displaying. Bamboo skewered iwana (a river fish), bamboo shoot, soramame (broad beans) and white asparagus ready to be grilled on the charcoal pit. The chefs preparing crabs in the makeshift kitchen.
Guests sitting on the tatami flooring (woven from rush) set around the charcoal pit, to indulge in the grilled crabs and vegetables, above Hundreds of lanterns made from handmade washi paper light the dark mountain paths to the site (far left). The buffet table, improvised from branches cut on site, is laden with crabs (second from left). A solid glass bar counter, complete with kilim carpets, is lit by bamboo torches (second from right). Preparing the utage is truly a race against time and year after year we find ourselves rushing about madly to get everything finished (far right).
Our clients from Tokyo have reached the hanging bridge, the logs and candles are immediately lit and the banquet commences with a big roar of fire and our greetings of welcome.
When the guests cross the bridge they are met by the sight and aroma of crabs and vegetables grilling on an immense fire pit, soup bubbling in a large cauldron, and large platters laden with home-smoked duck, pickled beets, whole raw vegetables with sea salt and miso dips, and homemade pickles.
We catch glimpses of our guests laughing, drinking and devouring the various dishes by the flickering flames of the candles and fire pit. This is the essence of our utage. The genuine experience of eating—of indulging oneself to one's heart's content—in a natural environment such as this, is to experience life itself.
When the roaring flames have turned to red coals and the ambience mellows, it is time for the banquet to come to a close. It gives us great pleasure to hear our parting guests say that they would like the evening to continue forever. We share those same lingering thoughts and sorrow of parting.
The utage is a major event for us. It really is hard work but we thoroughly enjoy ourselves and, ultimately, that is what it's all about. Enjoy!
The harvested shoots are immediately taken down for boiling by a tiny monorail. Negi bozu (blossoms of the Japanese bunching onion) in the morning sun. The boiled shoots being raised from the cauldron. Staff driving down the steep digging site with the harvest. The bamboo tofu ware is made on site. Staff hard at work: it takes an expert foot to feel the shoots hidden under a carpet of bamboo leaves.
As the days slowly grow warmer, bamboo shoots are the only things on our minds, for the shoots must be harvested just as they peek out from the ground. Our eager thoughts drive us to the telephone as early as in February. We are calling the parents of one of our colleagues who own a mountain covered in lush bamboo forests in Shizuoka Prefecture. Weather conditions significantly affect the growth of the shoots. They tend to shoot up earlier when there has been abundant rainfall. We generally receive the long awaited call in early March. There is no doubt that spring arrives to Shunju along with this joyful tiding and we speed off to Shizuoka after midnight, having closed the restaurants.
Preserving the freshness of bamboo shoot is a highly delicate operation. You can actually see a shoot start to oxidize, discolor, and turn bitter from the moment that it is dug out. It is truly a race against time to preserve the refreshing "newborn" taste. Normally, harvested shoots are whisked off to the gourmet markets in refrigerated trucks as a highly coveted delicacy, known as asabori ("morning dug"). This system is seemingly the best means for competing against time but it can not prevent the oxidation and marked decline in taste. Once they reach the kitchen, the shoots must still be boiled with rice bran and dried chili peppers to remove the bitterness.
We immediately begin to boil the shoots on site in an iron cauldron full of spring water to halt the oxidation process and to trap the flavor before it deteriorates. We have no need for the additional ingredients as no bitterness has set in. Digging in the forest and clamoring around the cauldron is a customary Shunju spring ritual for us. Of course, we rush back to Tokyo in order to serve this treasured harvest that very evening.
Grilled bamboo shoots
Takenoko no ippon yaki
Serves 4
2 12-in (30-cm) takenoko (fresh bamboo shoots) (for preparation see page 253)
1/4 cup (60 ml) koikuchi shoyu (soy sauce)
If you have the opportunity to dig bamboo shoots fresh from the ground, we recommend charcoal grilling them on the spot in their outer skins. Freshly dug shoots have a high water content so they steam in their skins when grilled. You will never forget their sweet, delicate flavor and indescribable texture, which is totally different to that of canned or vacuum-packed shoots. This extravagant way of savoring the spring delicacy is a treat which we reward ourselves with after a strenuous morning of digging.
1 Prepare the charcoal; the coals are ready when all glow orange-red.
2 Carefully place the bamboo shoots directly into the red hot charcoal and cover completely with coals. Grill for about 15 minutes, do not worry about the skin becoming charred. Remove from the charcoal and test for doneness. Pierce the thick bottom of a bamboo shoot with a metal skewer and keep it there for 5 seconds before removing. If the skewer is hot, but not too hot to touch (about 120°F or 40°C), return the bamboo shoot on top of the charcoal, brush evenly with soy sauce, and grill for another 5 minutes. If the metal skewer is not hot enough, return to the charcoal, cook for a
