Han no Daidokoro Bettei

Walking into Han no Daidokoro Bettei for the first time is a small piece of theatre, and that is before any food has arrived.

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 shrimp cocktail with proper horseradish, which set the tone — generous, unfussy, and confident enough not to crowd what was coming. With it we ordered a glass of port to finish, and then another, and were glad of both.

Then the main event: kuroge wagyu, the dish that puts Han no Daidokoro Bettei on every short list. Was it the very best steak I have ever eaten? No. Was it among the dozen I think about most? Yes. The signature touch — single-farm cuts you grill yourself — is not a gimmick; it is the reason to come.

For sides we asked for pommes Anna and broiled tomato with a breadcrumb cap. Both arrived hot, both arrived early, both were exactly large enough to overdo it. We overdid it.

Dessert was crème brûlée with a proper glass crust, mostly because the waiter raised an eyebrow when we hesitated. He was right to.

If you are passing through Tokyo, do not pass Han no Daidokoro Bettei by.