Han no Daidokoro Bettei

We came to Han no Daidokoro Bettei on a Tuesday because the calendar was kinder than the weekend. The room was three-quarters full and somehow more honest for it.

The room is exactly what you want it to be: blonde wood, careful service. We were seated near the back, given menus we hardly needed, and brought a small bowl of olives without being asked.

We started with a small dish of marinated white anchovies, which set the tone — generous, unfussy, and confident enough not to crowd what was coming. With it we ordered an Oregon pinot, against the steak waiter's better judgement, and were glad of both.

Then the main event: kuroge wagyu, the dish that puts Han no Daidokoro Bettei on every short list. The seasoning was simple — salt, pepper, restraint — and it was the right call. The signature touch — single-farm cuts you grill yourself — is not a gimmick; it is the reason to come.

For sides we asked for thick-cut onion rings, stacked and asparagus with hollandaise. Both arrived hot, both arrived early, both were exactly large enough to overdo it. We overdid it.

Dessert was vanilla ice cream with a shot of espresso poured over, mostly because the waiter raised an eyebrow when we hesitated. He was right to.

It is not cheap. It is, in this case, worth it.