Seasoned to perfection
Last week, when I stepped into Ikoma Tochi in Makati, I felt as though I had been transported to Japan—until I spotted chef James Antolin, who, that day, could have easily passed for Japanese himself. At his side were Japanese chefs Hironori and Kosuke Aoki, fifth-generation brothers from Yamamotoya, a beloved Nagoya institution famed for its miso-nikomi udon.
Where tradition meets flair
Since 1925, Yamamotoya has kept tradition alive. Today, the Aoki brothers honor their founder’s legacy, remaining faithful to the time-honored techniques he passed down.
Fresh udon is prepared every day, by hand, in the restaurant. It is the noodles’ firmness, texture, and delight to the bite that distinguishes it from the rest. The way their udon is made follows a strict standard—beginning with a select type of Japanese wheat flour that is mixed with filtered water to form a smooth dough. The dough is kneaded until it loses its stickiness, then left to rest before being stretched, rolled, and cut to a precise thickness.
During the event, chef Hironori demonstrated the art. A natural showman, he paired masterful skills with playful antics—making the process of udon-making both impressive and entertaining.
Guests were then invited to make the noodles themselves, and while the results varied in thickness, length, and width, the experience was thoroughly enjoyed by all. Fortunately, the udon served during the tasting was carefully prepared by the chefs in advance.
The soul of the udon
What truly defines Yamamotoya is its miso. Crafted in-house from carefully selected Japanese soybeans, it is aged for three years to become Okazaki Hatcho miso, which is then blended with Shinshu miso. The result is a one-of-a-kind soup base that has become the very soul of Yamamotoya’s miso-nikomi udon.
The way the chefs put their bowl of noodles together also sets them apart. Unlike the usual, where udon is cooked separately before being added to the soup, Yamamotoya first brings the broth, in individual heyaki clay pots, to a boil, then adds the raw noodles directly into the simmering broth. This allows the udon to absorb the flavors deeply—for a richer, more flavorful dish. The udon can be relished with chicken, eggs, tempura, or even mountain vegetables.
Every steaming claypot served at Yamamotoya is a tribute to Nagoya’s proud fermentation heritage. The Aokis take pride in serving the exact same miso stewed udon to today’s diners, who perhaps are descendants of those who once enjoyed the same dish generations ago.
Nagoya and the greater Aichi Prefecture are the heartland of Japan’s fermentation culture. In this spirit, the Aokis, through their miso-nikomi udon, are not just keepers of tradition but also ambassadors of the region’s rich legacy of fermented products.
Seasonings that make the meal
The taste of Japanese food lies in the freshness of its ingredients, and their five fundamental seasonings, known as “sa-shi-su-se-so”—“sa” for satō, or sugar, “shi” for shiyo, or salt, “su” for su, or vinegar, “se” for seuyu, an old spelling of shōyu, or soy sauce, and “so” for miso, the fermented soybean paste.
With the exception of sugar and salt, their seasonings are borne from fermentation. And the presentation highlighted Nagoya’s products, made distinct by the art of fermentation.
Hatcho miso: We learned that this is made only from soybeans and salt. This miso paste is fermented for two to three years, pressed down by heavy stones. It was once prized by samurai and shoguns for its umami-rich flavor. Use this miso for soups, glazing, as a marinade for meats and fish. Try to add a teaspoonful to your stews, even to your adobo for a twist, or even a depth of flavor.
Tamari soy sauce: The first liquid that seeps out during the Hatcho miso fermentation process. Tamari soy is intensely flavorful, not as salty, thick, savory, and smooth. It is divine for sashimi, grilled eel, and sukiyaki.
White soy sauce: Brewed mostly from wheat, white soy sauce is light in color and delicate in taste. It’s ideal for soups, rice, and delicate dishes. I like pairing it with salmon sashimi.
Mirin: The mirin I tried from Nagoya is refined. Mirin, the sweet seasoning made from glutinous rice, lends sweetness, depth, and gives a gloss to dishes. Mirin is also a key ingredient in traditional teriyaki and sukiyaki sauces.
Vinegar: Sake brewing produces plenty of sake lees (or “kasu” in Japanese). Brewers ferment the kasu to make a mellow, tangy vinegar. In Handa, Mizkan perfected this. As such, their vinegar became the essential seasoning that sparked the sushi boom.
Our little lecture ended with a tasting and a toast. With sake from Chita, we raised our cups and said “Kampai!” with glee… closing the afternoon with good company, bridging cultures through food with goodwill and warm wishes.
The products from Nagoya are now available at Mitsukoshi mall.
