Kamakura Sushi and Ramen
Kamakura Sushi and Ramen
Let me start by stating the obvious: I love Belfast. I love my home. Therefore, I am more than aware (and deeply troubled) by its limitations, be they political or culinary. I wish I could accurately describe the dismay I felt as a child upon realising Belfast had no discernible China Town, but alas I lack the appropriate vocabulary. A concept of mythical proportions to me, I dreamt of paper lanterns, oriental architecture and exotic food. The first time I went to London, I skipped the London Eye and Westminster entirely, instead heading to the fabled halls of Wardour Street, tapping my feet to “A Town Called Malice” aboard the tube as I hurtled towards my dream. Suffice to say, I was sad to leave. Belfast has come a long way since my dim youth in this regard, with the no man's land bordering Botanic Avenue, Dublin Road and Donegal Pass playing home to a number of authentic Asian eateries. Not quite China Town, but something entirely new and exciting. About halfway down Donegal Pass, unassumingly tucked away, lies a hidden gem.
Kamakura Sushi and Ramen, hidden in plain sight, was first suggested to me by a friend who shares my love for honesty in food. Unassuming in its modesty, I made my way down and successfully walked past it twice before finding the entrance. Opened four months ago by a couple based in Belfast with a love of Japanese food, Kamakura has quickly established itself as one of the brightest new spots in the city. Upon entering, you are hit by your surroundings. A sliding door opens onto a modern space with rustic tinges, contemporary furniture, timber and a large mural pertaining to the Orient. Striking, bordering on garish, if not for the intangibles. For instance, a delicate soundtrack of gentle finger plucks, soft keys and oceanic vibes floats gently down from the rafters. An immediately relaxing vibe descends upon you as you are guided by to your seat by a staff member. Today, however, I am joined by said staff member - Maria, the restaurant manager and trained pastry chef, whose infectious enthusiasm and vast knowledge of the menu and Kamakura's story proved essential to my dining experience.
Present from the beginning, Maria walked me through the establishment and quizzed me on my own preferences - Was I a fan of sushi, had I ever eaten here before etc - before we got onto the topic of the motivation behind Kamakura as well as its growing success. Citing a gap in the market for accurate portrayals of Japanese food, she also alludes to the quality of ingredients available in Ireland, notifying me that “We have a lot of tourists (coming to Belfast now)… who feel that the sushi here is as good as they get in America.” Clearly proud of what is served, I pressed her on the topic of their sushi and how it was prepared - “We use the whole fish… we get a whole salmon or tune and slice them into strips and put them in a freezer for 24 hours.” It was at this point she paused to lament the snobbery associated with fresh sushi vs frozen sushi, informing me that freezing was a necessity, not a luxury, as it kills the bacteria - “You’re gonna kill yourself” without it. Be warned hipsters.
I further pushed the question of authenticity in cooking. Clearly a driving force for Kamakura, but did Maria see the improvements I saw in Belfast, or is there still work to be done? Is Belfast the suitable environment for such a mix of tradition and exoticism to flourish? She seems to believe so - “When I came over here in 2004, all the food was so outdated. I thought Belfast food was just fish, chips. (laughs) Burgers. So when people started to travel, they became more open to different kinds of cuisine - Japanese food, Chinese food… I’ve been working in different restaurants, I notice now that people are starting to embrace these kinds of dishes.” One can only stroll five minutes from Kamakura to see what she means, as a number of different eateries have opened in the last years: Cantonese, Szechuan, Falafel and Dim Sum to name a few. Still, Maria stressed that there was still a ways to go, informing me of a Filipino restaurant that had previously shut down because “People are scared to try it sometimes.” I asked if she thought the restaurant would do better if it reopened, which was met with a positive response - "People are more open now. I see it."
While remaining on the subject of acceptance, Maria brightens up at the mention of Ramen. An
ingredient that has become widely adopted in Belfast, particularly by Wagamamas and Biarebel Ramen (my companion, however, much like myself, was not a fan of Wagamamas. “Its so plain… Its like fast food.” she exclaimed, and I am inclined to agree, it's like Starbucks for noodles). Sushi may have built the house but, I am notified, it is the ramen that has people coming back for more. “The only difference that we do… our soup here is boiling in a pot for 24 hours… and people keep coming back, just saying its different.” We gravitate from ramen to some of the racial conceptions people have around Asian food: Do people expect chicken balls and salt ’n’ chilli chicken and how have the locals reacted to Kamakura, a question to which Maria answers with a beaming smile, continuing “It makes me so happy (to see people more accepting). When we opened, our demographic was not just Asian people… our target was locals. If you come in on Saturday night, you see about 80% of customers are locals and that makes us so happy, because we want them to try how good Asian food is.” Tasty food, we agreed, has no language or restrictions. And the best ingredients make the best food, so I was particularly interested in the preparation of my meal. Especially noteworthy is the attention paid to the treatment of the ingredients: produce is bought fresh from local vendors, the ramen and sushi are prepared expertly and almost everything else in the restaurant is handmade from scratch, from the gyoza (Japanese dumplings) to the chilli oil to the teriyaki sauce.
Following this discussion, I was further educated on the parts of the menu that differentiate Kamakura from its neighbours, specifically the Bento Box. A colourful lunch box packed with a variety of healthy, delicious dishes for workers in a rush (with vegetarian options available). Not just for those in a rush, however, as their varied composition makes them a safe option for beginners who are unsure of what to try. A beginner, however, I am not, and with our conversation over, Maria orders my meal accordingly. I often try to be adventurous in these settings, but I allowed the Kamakura staff to take care of me. A selection of sushi and dumplings to begin.
Often while younger, I would scoff at the idea that aesthetically pleasing food somehow tasted better, but the food at Kamakura can often be tasted before it is bitten. Tasteful, contemporary and filled with colour, my tuna and salmon sashimi arrived with little ceremony - the taste would do the talking. Succulent and meaty in every bite, it was some of the most satisfying mouthfuls of food I’ve had this
year. surprisingly filling but also exquisitely light, I had to physically force myself to stop eating so fast. Before I’d finished, a side dish of steamed pork gyoza arrived, not unlike little Christmas presents filled with meat and broth, dusted over top with a punchy chilli salt. I, like a petulant child, refused to let them cool down.
Next came the showstopper dishes. I was treated to a glimpse and taste of the chicken ramen, but my main dishes were the Matsu sushi boat with a bowl of spicy kimchi and beef ramen. The ramen was first to arrive, a steaming bowl piled high with generous chunks of soft, flavoursome beef, coriander,
chillis, kimchi, noodles and a rich soup. Enough on its own to feed a family, it also managed to retain that unique Japanese measure of feeling like it was exactly the right amount of food. It tasted like a happy household, warm and comfortable. I was barely halfway through before the signature dish arrived. The Matsu
sushi is a selection of high-grade nigiri sushi with tempura rolls, arranged around an ornate boat display. If your eyes could eat, you would have your money's worth. Each mouthful was full of deep, complex flavours and satisfying textures, with each piece feeling like an individual meal on its own. More than physically satisfying, however, it was food for my spirit. The dedication paid to the display, the care in making each piece of food, implied a nourishment that bordered on love, a love that could be tasted. This was a complete meal in every sense of the word.
I departed, full on both food and knowledge. Calls of thanks filled my ears from charming staff as I made my way towards the door, slightly ashamed of how quickly I'd ate. I turned back to my host who offered only a smile and a single statement for dessert: “We hope to see you again.” Rest assured, you shall.
Let me start by stating the obvious: I love Belfast. I love my home. Therefore, I am more than aware (and deeply troubled) by its limitations, be they political or culinary. I wish I could accurately describe the dismay I felt as a child upon realising Belfast had no discernible China Town, but alas I lack the appropriate vocabulary. A concept of mythical proportions to me, I dreamt of paper lanterns, oriental architecture and exotic food. The first time I went to London, I skipped the London Eye and Westminster entirely, instead heading to the fabled halls of Wardour Street, tapping my feet to “A Town Called Malice” aboard the tube as I hurtled towards my dream. Suffice to say, I was sad to leave. Belfast has come a long way since my dim youth in this regard, with the no man's land bordering Botanic Avenue, Dublin Road and Donegal Pass playing home to a number of authentic Asian eateries. Not quite China Town, but something entirely new and exciting. About halfway down Donegal Pass, unassumingly tucked away, lies a hidden gem.
Kamakura Sushi and Ramen, hidden in plain sight, was first suggested to me by a friend who shares my love for honesty in food. Unassuming in its modesty, I made my way down and successfully walked past it twice before finding the entrance. Opened four months ago by a couple based in Belfast with a love of Japanese food, Kamakura has quickly established itself as one of the brightest new spots in the city. Upon entering, you are hit by your surroundings. A sliding door opens onto a modern space with rustic tinges, contemporary furniture, timber and a large mural pertaining to the Orient. Striking, bordering on garish, if not for the intangibles. For instance, a delicate soundtrack of gentle finger plucks, soft keys and oceanic vibes floats gently down from the rafters. An immediately relaxing vibe descends upon you as you are guided by to your seat by a staff member. Today, however, I am joined by said staff member - Maria, the restaurant manager and trained pastry chef, whose infectious enthusiasm and vast knowledge of the menu and Kamakura's story proved essential to my dining experience.Present from the beginning, Maria walked me through the establishment and quizzed me on my own preferences - Was I a fan of sushi, had I ever eaten here before etc - before we got onto the topic of the motivation behind Kamakura as well as its growing success. Citing a gap in the market for accurate portrayals of Japanese food, she also alludes to the quality of ingredients available in Ireland, notifying me that “We have a lot of tourists (coming to Belfast now)… who feel that the sushi here is as good as they get in America.” Clearly proud of what is served, I pressed her on the topic of their sushi and how it was prepared - “We use the whole fish… we get a whole salmon or tune and slice them into strips and put them in a freezer for 24 hours.” It was at this point she paused to lament the snobbery associated with fresh sushi vs frozen sushi, informing me that freezing was a necessity, not a luxury, as it kills the bacteria - “You’re gonna kill yourself” without it. Be warned hipsters.
I further pushed the question of authenticity in cooking. Clearly a driving force for Kamakura, but did Maria see the improvements I saw in Belfast, or is there still work to be done? Is Belfast the suitable environment for such a mix of tradition and exoticism to flourish? She seems to believe so - “When I came over here in 2004, all the food was so outdated. I thought Belfast food was just fish, chips. (laughs) Burgers. So when people started to travel, they became more open to different kinds of cuisine - Japanese food, Chinese food… I’ve been working in different restaurants, I notice now that people are starting to embrace these kinds of dishes.” One can only stroll five minutes from Kamakura to see what she means, as a number of different eateries have opened in the last years: Cantonese, Szechuan, Falafel and Dim Sum to name a few. Still, Maria stressed that there was still a ways to go, informing me of a Filipino restaurant that had previously shut down because “People are scared to try it sometimes.” I asked if she thought the restaurant would do better if it reopened, which was met with a positive response - "People are more open now. I see it."
While remaining on the subject of acceptance, Maria brightens up at the mention of Ramen. Aningredient that has become widely adopted in Belfast, particularly by Wagamamas and Biarebel Ramen (my companion, however, much like myself, was not a fan of Wagamamas. “Its so plain… Its like fast food.” she exclaimed, and I am inclined to agree, it's like Starbucks for noodles). Sushi may have built the house but, I am notified, it is the ramen that has people coming back for more. “The only difference that we do… our soup here is boiling in a pot for 24 hours… and people keep coming back, just saying its different.” We gravitate from ramen to some of the racial conceptions people have around Asian food: Do people expect chicken balls and salt ’n’ chilli chicken and how have the locals reacted to Kamakura, a question to which Maria answers with a beaming smile, continuing “It makes me so happy (to see people more accepting). When we opened, our demographic was not just Asian people… our target was locals. If you come in on Saturday night, you see about 80% of customers are locals and that makes us so happy, because we want them to try how good Asian food is.” Tasty food, we agreed, has no language or restrictions. And the best ingredients make the best food, so I was particularly interested in the preparation of my meal. Especially noteworthy is the attention paid to the treatment of the ingredients: produce is bought fresh from local vendors, the ramen and sushi are prepared expertly and almost everything else in the restaurant is handmade from scratch, from the gyoza (Japanese dumplings) to the chilli oil to the teriyaki sauce.
Following this discussion, I was further educated on the parts of the menu that differentiate Kamakura from its neighbours, specifically the Bento Box. A colourful lunch box packed with a variety of healthy, delicious dishes for workers in a rush (with vegetarian options available). Not just for those in a rush, however, as their varied composition makes them a safe option for beginners who are unsure of what to try. A beginner, however, I am not, and with our conversation over, Maria orders my meal accordingly. I often try to be adventurous in these settings, but I allowed the Kamakura staff to take care of me. A selection of sushi and dumplings to begin.Often while younger, I would scoff at the idea that aesthetically pleasing food somehow tasted better, but the food at Kamakura can often be tasted before it is bitten. Tasteful, contemporary and filled with colour, my tuna and salmon sashimi arrived with little ceremony - the taste would do the talking. Succulent and meaty in every bite, it was some of the most satisfying mouthfuls of food I’ve had this
year. surprisingly filling but also exquisitely light, I had to physically force myself to stop eating so fast. Before I’d finished, a side dish of steamed pork gyoza arrived, not unlike little Christmas presents filled with meat and broth, dusted over top with a punchy chilli salt. I, like a petulant child, refused to let them cool down.
Next came the showstopper dishes. I was treated to a glimpse and taste of the chicken ramen, but my main dishes were the Matsu sushi boat with a bowl of spicy kimchi and beef ramen. The ramen was first to arrive, a steaming bowl piled high with generous chunks of soft, flavoursome beef, coriander, chillis, kimchi, noodles and a rich soup. Enough on its own to feed a family, it also managed to retain that unique Japanese measure of feeling like it was exactly the right amount of food. It tasted like a happy household, warm and comfortable. I was barely halfway through before the signature dish arrived. The Matsu
sushi is a selection of high-grade nigiri sushi with tempura rolls, arranged around an ornate boat display. If your eyes could eat, you would have your money's worth. Each mouthful was full of deep, complex flavours and satisfying textures, with each piece feeling like an individual meal on its own. More than physically satisfying, however, it was food for my spirit. The dedication paid to the display, the care in making each piece of food, implied a nourishment that bordered on love, a love that could be tasted. This was a complete meal in every sense of the word.I departed, full on both food and knowledge. Calls of thanks filled my ears from charming staff as I made my way towards the door, slightly ashamed of how quickly I'd ate. I turned back to my host who offered only a smile and a single statement for dessert: “We hope to see you again.” Rest assured, you shall.
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