With minimalist cooking, the gap between uninteresting and scrumptious can generally be measured in grains of salt. This grew to become clear throughout my solely meal at Torishin’s authentic location, on First Avenue within the 60s.
There have been many skewers. None of them appeared to have been seasoned. Even the pickled cucumbers and daikon that confirmed up at the beginning of the meal gave the impression to be beneath orders not to attract any consideration to themselves. I knew that some individuals revered the restaurant, so I simply figured that it fell into one in all my blind spots.
When Torishin moved to its present handle in Hell’s Kitchen in 2015, I didn’t precisely rush over on my hoverboard. Actually, I didn’t make it there till final fall, a delay I regretted as quickly as I had unskewered my first lump of hen. No matter had been lacking from the hen earlier than was there, and it’s been there every time I’ve gone again. (I nonetheless suppose the pickles want extra pep, although.)
To the left as you enter is a small bar. The bartenders spend the quiet hours whittling large ice cubes into spheres, with knives. These tough globes are plopped into tumblers of shochu, and if you wish to study this distilled spirit, Torishin is a wonderful place to begin. The sake record is compact however various. The few wines come from large, apparent names.
On the finish of a winding hall is a split-level eating room. The mezzanine is perhaps the spot for privateness. The decrease house is extra lively, with seating at tables or round a U-shaped counter that hugs the open kitchen and a grill, the depth of a single skewer.
If you realize your favourite chook bits, ordering à la carte is straightforward sufficient. The…