Unagi Hashimoto: A Historic Yaesu Restaurant Reviving Edomae Traditions from the Edo Era

Not far from the Yaesu North Exit of Tokyo Station, there is a narrow alleyway bustling with restaurants. In the alleyway, Unagi Hashimoto is housed in a two-story wooden building that exudes a charming, old-fashioned atmosphere.

When I ordered unaju (grilled eel on rice), the pickles were served promptly. The dish was small yet satisfying, with Nara zuke pickles that complemented the eel, along with takuan (pickled radish) and homemade nukazuke (pickled vegetables), all neatly arranged on the plate. Less than 20 minutes later, the lacquered juubako (a box containing food) was served.

Inside the juubako was nicely browned broiled eel served on steaming hot rice. The refreshing and savory sauce enhanced the soft, fluffy eel and perfectly cooked rice, bringing them together beautifully.

Although the lines of customers are not as long as they used to be because of the COVID pandemic, patrons continue to arrive one after another during lunchtime. The restaurant has a direct connection to producers and intentionally closes on Midsummer Day of the Ox, a day when Japanese people traditionally eat eel. This eel restaurant, which has challenged conventional industry wisdom, is filled with customers eager to enjoy delicious food despite the current circumstances. However, 18 years ago, when Hashimoto-san entered the restaurant at the age of 24, he remarked, “Business was so tough that we didn’t even know if we would be able to open the restaurant the next day.

Eel restaurants are naturally busy in the summer but tend to slow down in the winter. Moreover, back then, the bubble economy had burst, leading to a decline in corporate customers who previously used the restaurant frequently for various purposes, including entertaining business clients. This created a sense of crisis, making us question whether we could continue operating in this way.”

As sales continued to decline, Hashimoto-san decided to take over the restaurant. With so few customers, he had plenty of time on his hands. He began visiting eel restaurants across Japan and started rebuilding his own by imitating the ones he found impressive.

One of the changes he made was to stop preparing the eels, just as they did when they were served at street stalls.

In Kanto-style kabayaki, the eel is sliced down its back, broiled and steamed without seasoning, then dipped in sauce and fully broiled. Unlike Kansai-style, where the eel is sliced down its belly and then broiled, Kanto-style includes an extra step of steaming. For this reason, most eel restaurants in office districts typically complete up to the broiling process of the non-seasoned kabayaki before customers arrive, ensuring they are ready for those who have limited time. At Hashimoto, the chefs used to prepare eel this way, but to serve it in the best possible condition, they decided to avoid preparing it in advance as much as possible.

“At edomae eel restaurants, it was once considered stylish to snack on pickles while waiting for the eel to be served. Traditionally, it was assumed that eel took a long time to cook. At an eel restaurant, unaju typically costs around JPY 4,000 per person, and they do not serve other fish dishes like tuna or sea bream sashimi. If customers visit my restaurant to enjoy eel, I want them to savor the natural flavor of the eel and experience a relaxing, luxurious dining experience.”

Change naturally creates friction. His father, the proprietor, along with other veteran chefs, strongly opposed his idea, arguing, “If we make our customers wait that long, they’ll stop coming.” However, Hashimoto-san was determined to follow his own approach, insisting, “Since we don’t have many customers to start with, please let me give this a try.”

Though Hashimoto-san is such an earnest person, he describes himself as having once been a prodigal young man. After graduating from high school, he spent his free time backpacking through Asia and the United States while also working as a DJ. He casually said, “I couldn’t stick to one thing for long. Whatever I did never lasted. This restaurant was the only place that accepted me in the end.”

Reluctantly, and at his father’s insistence, he agreed to work at the restaurant, but he was dissatisfied with being assigned kitchen duties from the beginning. Until his father’s generation, the owner family had only been involved in managing the restaurant, while the cooking was the responsibility of the chef. He said, “I hated bloody, gruesome tasks like dressing live eels, and I was dissatisfied with the fact that I, as the owner’s son, had to work in the kitchen.” However, his aunt, who owned a restaurant and had cared for him since childhood, told him, “No matter how much fun you have outside, just make sure you go to work every morning, even if you have to crawl on your knees to get there.” He recalls that faithfully obeying his aunt’s advice turned out to be a good decision.

“I was made to perform various eel preparations as I worked in the kitchen every day. Even if I made mistakes, I was allowed to try again and again because I was the owner’s son, which helped me learn a lot of skills. I believe it was because I had acquired the necessary skills that I was able to come up with new ideas, which eventually led others to follow my lead.”

Hashimoto-san also worked on the sauce, which is key to the flavor. The Kanto-style eel sauce is characterized by its tangy and spicy flavor and smooth texture that distinguishes it from the Kansai style. However, Hashimoto-san decided to sweeten the sauce a bit because he enjoys Kansai-style kabayaki, which features crispy grilled eel topped with a thick, sweet sauce.

“I gradually increased the sugar content so that customers wouldn’t notice the change in taste. After slowly working on it for two years, I finally found the perfect balance of sweetness and tanginess.”

In addition to kabayaki, the main dish, he painstakingly and thoroughly improved the quality of the rice, clear soup, and pickles that are served to all customers at the restaurant. These consistent efforts paid off, and Hashimoto became a highly talked-about restaurant among food connoisseurs. However, after many trials and errors, Hashimoto-san feels, “The more I work on the eel dish, the more I return to our roots in edomae.

When I wanted to change everything, I wasn’t grounded and couldn’t view things objectively. We use soy sauce, sugar, and mirin for the sauce. We purchase the soy sauce and mirin from a major manufacturer, and we use regular white sugar. I used to want to change all the seasonings as well, but then I realized that wasn’t the essential part.”

He had long been drawn to Kansai-style and tried not to over-steam the eel to avoid creating the fluffy, melty texture typical of Kanto-style. But lately, he has found a good balance by steaming the eel until it is plump and fluffy, then broiling it thoroughly just before it becomes overcooked. He is endeavoring to find the fine line between preserving the nuances that people expect in edomae dishes and incorporating the savory flavors of Kansai-style into his eel dishes.

When I asked Hashimoto-san how he would define edomae eel, he replied, “I now see it as preserving traditional craftsmanship while incorporating modern skills and knowledge and continuing the business at this location.”

As new endeavors he pursued during the COVID-19 pandemic, he launched mail-order sales of vacuum-packed kabayaki and a home delivery service called Unataku in cooperation with taxi companies. Ultimately, he says he wants people to visit the restaurant.

“I have always wondered if Yaesu is a place worth traveling to for a meal. Now that these areas have been well developed, the city’s population may increase with the addition of new office buildings and commercial facilities. But I wonder if Yaesu can attract people beyond those who live and work in the area. That is the question.”

Hashimoto-san believes that the charm of Yaesu lies in the narrow alleys, like the one where his restaurant is located, which create a downtown-like atmosphere that coexists with ongoing development.

“I have a vague idea of wanting to create a fun way for people to explore the town by connecting with other independent stores and restaurants like ours.”

Since the restaurant building is aging, a rebuild is planned for this fall. Hashimoto-san says, “I’ve always yearned for a small restaurant.” At one point, he considered reducing the number of tables but ultimately decided to keep enough so that customers can come to the restaurant whenever they feel like eating eel and enjoy the dish.

“Now, I want to open what I consider to be a popular restaurant. Restaurants are places where people gather. Despite the impact of the COVID-19 pandemic, I believe the culture of people coming together will endure. It is precisely because of these challenging times that we must entertain our customers with our founding philosophy: “Eat eel, and you won’t need medicine.” I would be happy to see customers come to the restaurant sharing this sentiment.”

By the way, while I was having unaju for lunch, I overheard an elderly man with a cane jokingly tell the waiter as he paid his bill, “I’d come back again if I were alive.” There are unique dishes you can only enjoy here that make you want to come back. Even if the restaurant building is reconstructed, you can always savor a taste of the edomae of today when you visit this restaurant.