In Tokyo's crowded gastronomic landscape, Les Creations de Narisawa enjoys perhaps the city's loftiest reputation. Seven years after quietly unleashing an idiosyncratic blend of Japanese and French eating on the capital, Les Creations has already taken its place in the pantheon of culinary greats, alongside a handful of establishments in Europe and the United States.
The two-star Michelin winner has just been voted Asia's top restaurant in the San Pellegrino World's Best 50 Restaurants List, a leading international poll. Fans trek from across the world to sample its 'unorthodox' dishes, the word most often used by critics - including San Pellegrino's team of chefs and journalists - to describe the quirky menu, which is sprinkled with ingredients such as organic soil, charcoal and tree bark. Founder Yoshihiro Narisawa loves the description.
'Unorthodox means doing something that nobody else has done,' the 40-year-old chef says as his small team of waiters glides around him and his wife, Yuko, ferrying tea and coffee. 'A good restaurant should surprise people; make them sit up and take notice of the food and understand the message behind it. That's what we try to do.'
That assessment only scratches the surface of Narisawa's famously obsessive attention to putting what he calls 'nature on a plate'. Although the food is ostensibly French, the menu is guided by the Japanese philosophy of shun, or using ingredients in season, at their freshest: sweetfish are topped with cherry blossom petals; sea snails peep out from beneath a layer of wild mountain vegetables, winter snow melts on top of buckwheat risotto.
Drawing on food from Japan's forests, including wild mushrooms and chestnut and cedar trees, he works with nutritionists to ensure his latest creations are edible. 'Customers should fall under the spell of the season,' he explains. 'They should not only be eating a meal, they should absorb life itself - the smell, the texture and the taste of the landscape that produced the food.'
Les Creation's low-key ambience is the embodiment of its quietly spoken, modest founder. Tucked behind an office block in the upmarket Aoyama district, its stark, almost austere black-and-white interior is dominated by a glass wall looking into the gleaming kitchen. The two-way view ensures nothing is hidden from the 25-seat dining room, Narisawa says, and allows him to observe the clientele. 'First of all, you should never lie to the customer. They can see everything, including what's inside the refrigerators. And food should be tailored to suit the individual. There's no point making the same dish for a 70-year-old man and a young man or woman. I look at the customers and decide.'
