It was the spider crab leg that confirmed it for me: a single, delicate limb, sliced from a species that lives only in the waters north of Kyoto and which is only in season for a couple of months. It had been seared on a tiny hibachi grill until the proteins were just set and was, quite simply, the sweetest, most intense crab meat I had ever eaten. I was in no doubt. Tokyo was obviously the greatest food city in the world. I had been in town for three hours.
This week, after a slightly more rigorous appraisal of the city's restaurants involving a year and a half's work and five full-time inspectors, the Michelin Guide confirmed what it had taken me half a dinner time to conclude. London's restaurants have 50 Michelin stars between them. Paris, birthplace of the grand restaurant, has 98. In its first ever guide to Tokyo, the Japanese capital has been awarded 191, spread across eight three-stars, 25 two-stars and a whopping 117 one-stars. It's official. Tokyo is belly heaven.
Having spent a week eating around Tokyo earlier this year - lunch, dinner, lunch, dinner, lunch, lunch, dinner, dinner; I am nothing if not committed - I have only one doubt over this galaxy of Michelin stars: they really haven't awarded anywhere near enough of them.
I went to Tokyo in search of the perfect meal for my new book, The Man Who Ate The World, about the globalisation of high-end restaurants. I had already played poker to win the price of a glass of Château d'Yquem at Nobu in Las Vegas. I had cruised the mafia bling of Moscow and been fed Escoffier classics amid the ludicrous desert fantasies of Dubai. And in all of these cities identifying the high-end restaurants to visit had been easy. The list was always relatively short, relatively uncontroversial and generally included the words Gordon and Ramsay.
Tokyo was entirely different. There are, according to whom you talk to, either 60,000, 160,00 or 300,000 restaurants there. All we can know for sure is that there are an Awful Lot Of Them. I asked a dozen knowledgeable people for a list of must-do restaurants. I got back a dozen different lists. (None of them included the words Gordon or Ramsay.) But each time I was also given a warning. They could tell me where it would be great to eat, but getting to do so was a different matter entirely.
In the west, restaurants are relatively democratic affairs. If you can scrape together the cash, and book far enough in advance, you can go. Japanese high-end restaurants are not like that at all. For a start, many are tiny, seating fewer than a dozen people and sometimes just four or six. Second, they are seriously bloody choosy about who they feed. I approached a foodie friend, a San Francisco-based Thai food-blogger called Pim Techamuanvivit, whose blog, Chez Pim, has become a cult. She is seriously connected. She has eaten her way around Tokyo. How could I go about securing reservations, I asked. She laughed, and not in a good way. "They won't let you in," she said. "You're a round eye." In short, gaijin are not welcome.
Hell, even being Japanese won't necessarily do it. Many places regard the right to be a customer as a privilege to be bestowed rather than bought for the cost of dinner. The very least you need is a personal introduction by an existing customer, and ideally a blood relationship, a certificate bearing the thumb prints of three European popes, and a winning smile. Oh, and shed loads of cash: £500 a head for dinner in one of these places is really not extraordinary.
For all these reasons I had serious doubts when I heard that Michelin was scouring Tokyo for worthy recipients of its stars. The three French inspectors wouldn't have a hope in hell of making it inside the serious Japanese places, and the two local inspectors might not fare much better either. Eventually, to secure my bookings, I had to fall on the mercy of the executive chef at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel, where I was staying; thank you, Mr Yamamoto. I couldn't have done it without you. Who was going to make all the introductions for the Michelin crew, who needed to visit anonymously?
The results published this week appear to have borne out my concerns. The place where I ate that fabulous crab, Yukimura, a simple unprepossessing dining room on the third floor of a residential apartment block that could seat just nine, has made it into the guide. It has earned a single star for its extraordinary, multi-course set tasting menu of raw scallop with shaved, dried sea cucumber, raw venison the colour of a fresh haemorrhage, tiny white vinegared fish, crab legs and brown meat and a whole bunch of other things besides.
The two other high-end Japanese restaurants I visited, which were of an equal quality, are nowhere to be seen. Michelin simply appears not to have found them. And no wonder. The sushi place where I ate, Okei, was the smallest high-end restaurant I visited in the course of researching my book. It served just one person that night (although it can seat six). That person was me. Oh, and the sushi was very, very good indeed. My 32 courses - seared belly tuna, grilled marinated clam, nigiri of sea bream and salmon and sea urchin - cost me £250. It felt like a bargain.
Unsurprisingly, where Tokyo-based western restaurants are concerned, the professional eaters of Michelin appear to be on much more solid ground. One of the things that defines the city is its openness to other culinary traditions. Today, every big-name chef is setting up outposts in any global city with a smattering of spare cash. Tokyo has been at this game for decades, ever since the French uber-chef Paul Bocuse first toured the country in the late 1960s. As far back as the early 1970s, Maxim's of Paris, one of the first restaurants in the world to win three Michelin stars back in the 1930s, had an outpost on the ground floor of the Sony building in downtown Tokyo.
Today, everybody from Alain Ducasse to Wolfgang Puck, Michel Troisgros to Pierre Gagnaire has successful restaurants in Tokyo and all have a few more stars this week than they had last. There is one exception to this list. Gordon Ramsay has a restaurant in Tokyo, at the Conrad Hotel. For the first time since he won his first stars at Aubergine in the mid-90s, Michelin has decided a Ramsay business is worth not even a single star. It is a major slap around the chops for the boy from Glasgow Rangers.
The real winner is the Frenchman Joel Robuchon, who suddenly finds himself the proud owner of six more Michelin stars, spread across a three-star, a two-star and a one-star restaurant in Tokyo. It brings his global haul to 17. (Ducasse is just behind with 15.) It would be easy to dismiss this as the impeccably French tyre company looking after its own. Irritatingly, they have probably called it right, not least because Robuchon, once named chef of the century, understands the Japanese aesthetic better than almost any other western chef.
Because here is the most interesting thing about the booming, intricate obsessive restaurant scene in Tokyo: it is now having a major impact on high-end gastronomy in the west. Today, any big-name chef worth their Maldon sea salt wouldn't be seen dead serving a mere starter-main-dessert three-course meal. Instead, it's about tasting menus of 12 or 20 or even 30 tiny courses. That is a direct lift from the Japanese tradition of multi-course menus. Likewise, the introduction of smaller courses draws chefs back to less intricate plates, pointing up single ingredients, very much a part of the Japanese aesthetic. And the fashion for hot jellies and foams, made popular by the likes of Heston Blumenthal of the Fat Duck in Bray and Ferran Adrià of El Bulli in Spain, draws on seaweed extracts which have been known to Japanese chefs for decades.
Not that the eaters of Tokyo will give a damn about any of this. Nor, indeed, are they likely to care much what Michelin thinks of their city's restaurants. They didn't need the French to come and tell them just how good the eating opportunities are in their town. They've always known. This Michelin Guide is for the rest of us, or at least those of us who care just a little too much about our dinner. We can only flick through its pages, read the descriptions of food we are never likely to be able to eat, and dream.
Where to eat, what to eat ... and why the food's so good
Japanese food experts give the lowdown on dining out in Tokyo
Kanehiro Takase
Head chef at Matsuri St James's, London
"There are three issues at heart here. The most important thing is the very good quality of the ingredients that you can get hold of in Tokyo if you are prepared to pay the prices. This applies to fish, meat, vegetables and fruit. In addition to this there is an innate awareness of Japanese people with regard to the safe preparation of the ingredients. Finally, the Japanese have a very strong passion for food and do not mind paying high prices to eat it if it's delicious.
"If visitors are looking for something tasty but which is good value for money, they should eat around the famous Tsukiji market. I recommend eating sushi in one of the restaurants there or donburi [rice with a topping such as meat or eel]. If they are happy to pay a lot of money to dine well, then there are lots of very good restaurants in Ginza. I recommend eating tempura at a specialist tempura restaurant, such as Ten-ichi or Tenkuni."
Ichiro Kubota
Head chef at Uma, London
"Michelin is French and can easily assess French restaurants, but I think their guides to other places in the world are more commercial than authentic. I know two of their judges were Japanese, but even so ... In Japan there is so much diverstity. There are sushi restaurants, tempura restaurants and kaiseki restaurants which, like French restaurants, are based on tasting menus comprised of seven to 10 dishes. Kaiseki is a completely different world from sushi. However, Michelin generalised all the cuisine as 'Japanese'.
"Japanese cuisine is much more profound than everyone thinks. French food is renowned all over the world and translates very well, whereas kaiseki comes from the beginnings of Japanese culture. You have to understand the philosophies of ancient tea ceremonies to appreciate the service, host, dish and chef. And you have to know about the ingredients. For example, each colour means something: carrot and raddish mean 'celebration', yellow kombu [seaweed] is for new year's eve because it means 'happy', or 'to laugh'.
"The best foods to try in Kyoto are simple edo mai-sushi, which is hand-pressed nigiri made with rice and raw fish. Edo mai means 'in front of Tokyo Bay' - they use fish freshly caught from the bay. And Kamoseiro is soba noodles made from buckwheat, mixed with soup stock and duck fat - giving it a rich taste - and served warm with duck."
Janina Wolkow
Owner of Sumosan restaurant, London
"I wish Michelin had written this guide sooner, as it would have helped on my Tokyo trips. The last time I went with my head chef we literally did dinner twice each evening because there were so many places we wanted to try. Be warned, though: if you go to restaurants that aren't designed for foreigners, no one will speak English, so all you can do is point to things on the menu and hope for the best.
"The raw materials in Tokyo are amazing. Even the beef section in a supermarket can be breathtaking and would turn a non-vegetarian into a meat eater. The best things I ate in Tokyo were seafood kimchi (actually a Korean dish made with spicy, fermented cabbage) that was served on a hollowed grapefruit. Through the flavoursome marinade, you could still taste the freshness of the fish. There was a knife stuck through the grapefruit, which they pulled out as they served it, to release dry ice.
And the clams on the sushi they serve are still alive. We just don't get that over here."
Malcolm Simpson
General manager of Bincho Yakitori in London's Oxo Tower
"Unlike here, you won't find different kinds of Japanese food in one restaurant. There, one will serve, for example, yakitori - chicken skewers - and another will do only sushi. There are 80,000 bars and restaurants there and they're often piled eight stories high on top of each other. You have to look up to find them.
"There are two kinds of fine dining there: restaurants for the rich expat market and then the true fine dining aimed at anyone who has money. The Japanese are very much into trying things new and western and they demand everything to be authentic. So Joel Robuchon, who won three stars for his French restaurant there, imports everything. The clientele demands that and don't mind paying for it. My best Tokyo food experience was at Tsukiji fish market near Tokyo Bay. Some Japanese friends and I paid £50 for two big bricks of tuna, which we chopped up and ate on the spot with some wasabi and soy sauce."
Hiroyuki Saotome
Executive chef of Saki, London
"The [Michelin] selection is skewed toward more contemporary and creative Japanese restaurants [more appealing to non-Japanese customers] with a wide selection of wine. This is why the list looks kind of surprising for those who are used to appreciating the authentic Japanese eateries.
"What makes Tokyo stand out is the ingredients. Restaurateurs and shops only accept the freshest quality and don't hesitate to return whatever whenever the quality doesn't satisfy them.
"In London, it is a continuous struggle and you have to keep telling your suppliers what our quality standards are. In Japan, it is a completely different game altogether. The particular difference is the fish. For vegetables, I can find great quality [here in Britain], even better than those I find in Japan. However, when it comes to fish, the difference is like heaven and hell.
"[As for] one dish to eat in Tokyo, this is a very difficult question. In Tokyo, if you plan to dine in a very good Japanese restaurant, you don't come to eat a 'dish' but the 'season'.
"But if I had to suggest just one dish to take away from your whole Tokyo experience, there are so many good things to try, but just for the reason that it is is only available in Japan, I would pick fugu [the potentially deadly blowfish]."
· Interviews by Amy Fleming and Homa Khaleeli
· Jay Rayner is the Observer's restaurant critic. His new book, The Man Who Ate The World - In search of the perfect dinner, will be published by Headline next April.
· Been to Tokyo? Share your dining experience with us on the food blog
