I cook the way I learned in Kyoto: slowly, quietly, on a small set of foundational ingredients (rice, dashi, miso, shoyu, mirin, sake). The first time I tasted real dashi was in a tiny kappo restaurant on a side street near Nishiki market. The flavour was so quiet I almost missed it, and then it filled the back of my throat for an hour.

Here I teach Japanese home food (washoku) the way it is actually eaten at home. Short calm steps, exact ratios, and the small dignified rhythm of a meal built around rice and a bowl of broth. No fusion, no Americanised teriyaki. Just the cooking I grew up with.