Heartwarming matcha soba by the old folks of Torikiku

Uji is the mecca of matcha, and I couldn’t think of a better way to start our day than with some locally-made matcha soba.

I punched Uji Soba into Google Maps, and back came several suggestions. Top of the list was Torikiku (とり菊), a stone’s throw away from Byōdō-in Temple (平等院).

Rating and reviews on Google (4.6⭐/5.0 | 589 reviews) were great, and further corroborated by submissions on Tabelog (3.18⭐/5.00 | 25 reviews), the definitive food guide in Japan.

On surface, 3.18 out of 5.00 seems borderline dodgy, but you have to bear in mind that Tabelog ratings operate on a different scale and tend to skew significantly lower.

The general rule of thumb to remember is that anything above 3.00 is good, and restaurants above 4.00 are rare and exceptional.

Starting from the Keihan Uji station, we slowly made our way to Torikiku.

It was our very first time visiting Uji, and we found its quiet serenity and understated but picturesque landscape very appealing.

After many distractions and photo stops along the way, we finally reached our destination. Even though we were there quite early, a queue had already formed outside its eye catching purple noren.

We could tell from the sun-bleached decorations and faded photos of their simple menu that they’ve clearly been around for quite some time.

Choices were limited, but that’s actually a good thing when it comes to small eateries like this. It’s much better to do a few dishes really well, instead of many mediocre ones.

Despite the proximity of Torikiku to Byōdō-in Temple’s main entrance, prices were surprisingly budget friendly. All of their teishoku set meals were ¥1,000 or less.

Soon, we reached the front of the queue and were invited inside by an elderly, short and slightly hunched obaasan. Recall any Studio Ghibli anime you’ve watched, and she would have fit right in.

It was still the tail end of the winter season, and while it wasn’t particularly cold, it still felt nice to step in to a warm and cosy interior and escape the chill outside.

As it was just the two of us, we were ushered to a pair of high chairs at the counter. Which suited us just fine, since we always prefer front row seats to observe all the cooking action.

There were small rooms by the side that could accommodate larger parties, but it was still a small establishment that could seat probably less than two dozen customers.

Upon taking our seats, we were served a pot of hot sencha, along with two pretty little teacups that looked very much handmade.

There were two different pickles that we could help ourselves to. The sliced yuzu daikon was especially tasty, and we pretty much wiped out the entire container over the course of our meal.

Since we had ample time to peruse their menu while waiting outside, we already had a good idea of what we wanted.

I chose the cold chasoba teishoku (¥800), which came with tempura, onigiri and pickles. The Wife ordered essentially the same set, but with a hot soupy version replacing my cold soba.

An ojiisan with kind eyes and sporting a simple but cute beanie took our order.

With his thin metal-framed spectacles and calm demeanour, he looked more like a literature professor or calligraphy master rather than a soba chef.

“Photo ok?” I asked, mimicking the action of taking one with an old school analogue film camera, and he graciously agreed.

Besides himself, there were three other people in the restaurant. They bore a similar likeness and I assume that this was a family-run establishment.

In no time at all, our lunch arrived. The portions were more generous than they appeared in the menu, making for a hearty lunch that would help fuel our exploration of Uji.

I love soba in all its forms, but I particularly enjoy cold soba because it’s just so fun to eat.

First, pick up some noodles with your chopsticks. Then, give them in quick dunk in the mentsuyu dipping sauce. And finally, vacuum them into your mouth with as much force as you can muster.

The louder the slurp, the tastier the noodles. Really.

If you’re worried about being rude, don’t. Because that’s the accepted etiquette in Japan. In the past, I’ve even gotten nods of appreciation from the decibels I managed to generate.

So, how did the cold matcha soba at Torikiku taste?

They were simply oishii, with a firm bouncy texture and a mild but clearly discernable matcha flavour. I slowly but steadily chipped away at the mound of noodles until not a single strand remained.

Truth be told, it wasn’t the best cold soba I’ve had though.

That crown goes to the shiso soba that we had at a chain store restaurant inside a mall in Singapore. Hard to believe, I know, but it just goes to show that hidden gems can be found anywhere.

Back again at Shimbashi Soba for their seasonal shisokiri seiro

I tried some of The Wife’s soupy soba and found it more interesting than mine.

Hot dashi was poured over the same matcha noodles, and topped with some greens, a slice of fishcake and a sprinkling of fried tempura batter.

The broth had a clear citrusy note of sudachi that shone through, plus something else that we couldn’t quite identify. Whatever it was, it made the dashi taste extra special.

A special mention goes out to the small dish of matcha-flavoured salt. It accompanied the tempura and even just a tiny touch elevated the taste of the deep-fried vegetables.

I’ve had matcha salt before, but none have been memorable as this. But then again, we were in Uji, the mecca of matcha, and it was only natural that it was special.

If you’re ever in Uji during winter, and looking for something hot to chase away the cold, you can’t go wrong with a heartwarming bowl of matcha soba made by the old folks of Torikiku.

It’s nothing fancy, but it definitely hits the spot.