A little cooking by the ocean

The first time I tried Japanese food was at a pan-Asian restaurant at Al Imran Plaza in Kisumu. I remember being in such awe about how fancy the place was and how dressed up all the diners were.

My mother had even allowed me to wear black two-inch pumps so I felt grown up. When I saw the waiters bringing out sizzling beef to a table, drawing oohs and aahs from other patrons, I didn’t think dining could ever get any fancier than this.

When the chef came out in full garb and proceeded to flambe a dish at the table, I decided there and then that I wanted my dish to be set on fire too, and luckily, my dad obliged.

As far as teppanyaki goes, my favourite spot in Nairobi used to be Tokyo Japanese Restaurant in Lavington back when they would host dinners paired with drinks like whisky.

Still, having watched enough Japanese cooking shows, I always felt like I was being cheated a little. Teppanyaki is as much about the theatrics as it is about the food. I expect that the chef will be juggling eggs, dicing ingredients, speed-cutting and using a sword for a knife.

This probably takes years of practise, and I’ve long come to accept that teppanyaki in Nairobi is never going to be as grand as it is in its home country.

SIZZLING

Speaking of home country, the art of cooking on a hotplate has its beginnings in Japan, but it is in America that it first gained popularity, and it is at Silver Palm Spa & Resort in Kilifi that I found myself tucking into a prawn salad amuse bouche in front of their hotplate grill.

The beauty about dining at a resort stark by the sea is that the fish was so fresh I could almost imagine it flapping its fins in the water only that morning. We were to have barracuda and tuna, the latter being my all-time favourite fish, coupled with other meats like chicken.

These were to be seasoned with ingredients like lemon, soy sauce, black pepper, white wine, red onions, spring onions, garlic and sesame.

As expected, the chef seared the fish with a little oil at high heat, dexterously mixing up all the ingredients before serving and moving on to the next course. If you thought the coast was hot, you should save your complaints for when you’ve sat in front of a hotplate grill at midday. If I was to book this, which I would recommend you do for dinner.

It’s hard to mess up teppanyaki because the patron is seated right there and can control how much of each ingredient they like as well as how they want their meats done. You might not get any grand displays of flamboyance from the chef, but it still doesn’t get any better than teppanyaki by the sea.