Scenery Viewed from Across the Counter

The tempura restaurant "Shinjuku Tsunahachi" has its main store in Shinjuku, and we currently operate about 30 branches in station buildings and department stores. My grandfather founded it, and I am the third generation; thanks to everyone's support, we are celebrating our 100th anniversary this year.

My grandfather's family ran a fishmonger in Shinjuku, but since he was the second son and only the eldest son could inherit the business, he had to do something on his own. After trying a few different restaurants, he found that tempura suited his nature, and that's how it started 100 years ago.

I joined "Tsunahachi" about 40 years ago. I am the owner now, but until my early 30s, I was frying tempura myself at the counter. So today, I would like to speak not only as a manager but also from the perspective of someone who was on the front lines.

I graduated from the Faculty of Environment and Information Studies, where I majored in media design, but I felt it didn't really suit my nature. I decided to pursue cooking, which I enjoyed as a hobby, and upon graduation, I began an apprenticeship at a kaiseki restaurant in Kagurazaka. After working there for two years, I left for a while to do a job completely unrelated to cooking, but then I returned to that same restaurant.

Later, while I was working as a freelancer doing private catering and cooking classes, I was approached by the wagashi maker Toraya. They told me their Akasaka store would be reopening in three years and asked if I could supervise the meals. I ended up supervising the food for several of their locations.

Did you go independent after that?

The COVID-19 pandemic hit about a year and a half after I started working with Toraya, and that's when I thought, "Now is the time I want to open my own place."

Since the pandemic, the demand for things like takeout has increased for restaurants, beyond just serving food and alcohol on-site. I felt that in this current climate, a style that simultaneously develops different food businesses, not just a restaurant, might be accepted. With that thought in mind, I started 'KOMB'.

While I was a student in the Faculty of Science and Technology at Keio, I belonged to the Magic Society. As part of a part-time job, I had the opportunity to perform magic at a bar, which was my first experience working in one.

At that time, I felt the charm of having customers right in front of me respond directly to my performance. I had been interested in restaurant management since high school, but that was the first time I seriously thought about starting a bar.

Did you train somewhere before opening your shop?

During my student days, I worked part-time at a bar in Kamata. It was an "authentic bar," which usually has a high threshold, but it had a rather casual atmosphere, and I enjoyed working there.

After that, I worked at bars in Shinjuku and Azabu-juban. When the time came to open my own shop, I thought the customer base and the required atmosphere might differ depending on the location, so I wanted to work in different areas to understand those differences.

In Shinjuku, I worked at a shop with a casual atmosphere, and in Azabu-juban, I worked at a classical, authentic bar.

Unlike chefs, bartenders often have to handle everything alone, don't they?

That's true. Even for a bar, what is required isn't just alcohol; you also have to be able to cook. Also, I wasn't good at talking to people, so I felt the need to cultivate my communication skills.

Finally, in September of last year, I was able to open my shop "Mr. Alcoholic" in Akasaka. Due to the influence of COVID, the timing for opening a shop was difficult, but a property happened to be available, and I think I was able to open at a good time.

When considering the business format of a tempura restaurant, the advantage of having customers eat at the counter is that since tempura is fried food, it is absolutely most delicious when eaten immediately after being fried. We have tables and tatami rooms, but even if we fry the same shrimp, at the counter, we want them to eat it right away, so we adjust the cooking time to keep it slightly rare.

On the other hand, when taking it to a table, unlike at the counter, we have to serve several items together. Therefore, we fry the batter thoroughly so that it doesn't fall apart while being carried.

So you change the way you fry depending on whether it's for the counter or a table.

That's right. At the counter, we serve items one by one—"here is the shrimp, the whiting, the eggplant"—so they can eat them while they are piping hot. This allows the craftsman to serve the item in the exact state they want it to be eaten.

Also, being able to see the customers up close is a big factor. For example, people who are drinking alcohol and people who are enjoying a meal without drinking have different eating paces. It's very important to gauge that, and we even change the order in which we serve the tempura.

It means you can match the timing of the person eating.

Exactly. I think customers are happier that way—having it served at just the right moment.

It's wonderful to be able to see the customers' reactions directly.

At "KOMB," we change the course menu every month. Each course has its own story, and we create it together with the customers. We show the seasonal ingredients, cook them, and have them taste them right in front of their eyes, allowing them to enjoy the course like a single narrative.

While I or other staff members explain the dishes, the course progresses and the atmosphere livens up, and in the end, everyone enjoys it together with a feeling of "Ah, today was great." I'm really glad I'm doing this at a counter.

Is it basically a course menu?

Basically, it's only courses. We always serve clay pot rice at the end, cooked in a single pot and shared among everyone.

Of course, the customers don't all know each other, but by sharing rice cooked in one pot, a sense of unity naturally emerges. I think that's a great experience for the customers, and it makes me happy too.

For a bar, the merit of the counter is that it's convenient for providing products. For cocktails, especially so-called short cocktails or those in cocktail glasses, it's better to serve them even a second faster. And the advantage is being able to see the entire shop so that you can keep an eye on every single customer.

Also, while ordinary restaurants emphasize the menu on the table, in a bar, the bottles visible on the back bar and the menu written on the counter are important, and the counter is where those are most easily seen.

That's a presentation unique to the counter.

Yes. I think what's necessary for a bar, in addition to serving alcohol, is how to add value.

For example, with a highball, to be honest, you could provide the same thing even if you poured it in the back. But by showing the customer right in front of them that you are making it carefully and explaining the product, you can increase their satisfaction. I think that's the biggest advantage.

I think this is common to everyone, but you can show the process of the cooking right in front of them. For tempura, we show them peeling the shrimp or mixing the batter before frying it right before their eyes. The "shuwaaa" sound when frying and the savory smell of sesame oil also play a role in building anticipation before eating. Customers sitting at the counter expect that as well.

However, making things right in front of the customer also means, conversely, that they see everything.

Exactly. Everything, including the counter and the backside, enters the customer's view. For example, even the way a knife or a small plate is placed can greatly change the customer's impression. Including those points, creating a space is very important.

When I was young, my grandfather told me, "Hisaya, the counter is a stage for Kabuki or Noh." He said a craftsman is the same as a Kabuki actor. Since you are always performing, you must maintain proper posture and presence. I still remember that well.

He meant you should have that level of resolve.

In our case, especially since the craftsmen wear white coats, any dirt that splashes on them stands out. That's why we must maintain cleanliness and a solid presence.

Including the craftsman's own movements, I think it's a stage for performing a single play. Everything is seen by the customer, and we create a single space within a proper atmosphere, including the props and scenery backstage. I want to continue valuing that.

I am conscious of that point as well. Since the shop's structure itself is small, the entire kitchen is visible. Of course, sometimes things I don't want to show are visible, so I try to ensure that even if a customer sees them, they don't feel negatively.

For example, even a single pencil is placed straight. Knives are also placed straight, parallel to the cutting board. Just that makes the customer feel good and allows them to eat with a pleasant mood.

It's a small detail, but that's what's important.

Conversely, if it gets a little cluttered, the customers themselves start to feel restless, and the narrative of serving things in order in a course falls apart.

First, I try to reduce negative elements as much as possible, and I pay attention to flowers, behavior, and word choice so that they can feel even a little more comfortable. Of course, not everything goes perfectly, and I find myself thinking every day, "I should have said that then." Even so, I want to gradually make it a better space so that in the end, customers can think, "That was a good time."

You want to eliminate as much as possible anything that would be an eyesore or an earache for the customer, right?

Yes. When you do that, strangely enough, customers also start to speak with moderate voices. It feels like a sort of negotiation—I can show through my attitude that "I will do my part properly, so please do yours."

In my shop, regarding space creation, I was in a position where I could build the facilities from scratch when I opened, so I thought about the length, height, and width of the counter myself. Just a slight discrepancy can make it uncomfortable, so I was particular about those things down to the centimeter.

That's an important part.

Also, in a bar, there are many opportunities to talk with customers, but depending on the atmosphere, it can be easy or difficult for them to talk.

Earlier, there was talk about the volume of customers' voices; many people get drunk and their voices get louder when they have alcohol. That's natural, so I want my shop to be an environment where people can enjoy themselves without worrying too much about the volume of their voices.

Regarding that kind of atmosphere creation, did you have a vision of how you wanted it to be from the start, or did you think about how you would do it while looking at various bars?

When starting a bar, I think people generally think in terms of a dichotomy: whether to do an authentic bar or a casual bar. For me, I think there's a good balance right in the middle. We serve proper drinks and food and have an atmosphere, but you can also relax and enjoy yourself. I strive to create a space with just the right balance.

Recently, eating habits have really diversified, haven't they? Especially since the pandemic, things like Uber Eats are very popular. Has that had any impact?

Basically, we are in the "stomach industry," and I think everyone eats two or three meals a day somewhere. However, I believe there are probably individual patterns for how much people care about their meals. Some people want to eat homemade food at home for dinner, while others think it's fine to just have junk food for all three meals. In that context, I think people who come out to eat always have a specific intention or motivation for visiting a restaurant.

With COVID this time, we were told that so-called "kaishoku" (group dining), where everyone gathers to talk and eat, was not allowed. I think that was a shock to the Japanese people. Now that the pandemic has subsided, there is a sense that the number of people who feel that the atmosphere of a meal is secondary as long as they get full has increased somewhat due to the impact of the pandemic.

As long as it's cheap and fills the stomach.

That's why we have to clearly communicate to customers the meaning of going to a shop with a counter. If we don't, I don't think customers will come. We have to figure out how to appeal the value of "Let's try going to this shop" so that it catches the customers' radar.

There are some things that won't get across unless they actually come to the shop.

In the end, there are only two types of customers: new customers or regulars, right? From the second visit onwards, they are regulars, and I believe the origin of business is how much you can increase those familiar customers.

In that sense, the initial trigger can be anything. Nowadays, there are various things like the internet and SNS. Then, we make sure that the customers who visit say, "I'm glad I came." I think it's about how we can make the customers feel the merits of the counter in the two or three hours from when they arrive until they leave, and how much we can convey that.

Have there been any changes in the customer base since the pandemic?

The number of solo diners has increased. A counter is just right for solo diners, isn't it?

However, I think there is inevitably an image that the counter has a high threshold. Especially going to the counter of a tempura or sushi restaurant as a first-timer and saying "Yo!" is quite difficult. Even I might not be able to enter (laughs).

It makes you nervous, doesn't it?

I think it's also important to reduce that kind of image. For example, at our place, we offer lunches with a slightly lower threshold—like vegetable tempura sets or tendon (tempura bowls). It's not exactly an introductory version, but we have them start from there so they can get a good impression, like "Sitting at the counter isn't that scary," or "It's nice to be able to eat for this price."

It might be due to the influence of SNS, but while we used to have more older salarymen or people using the shop for business entertainment, after COVID, the number of solo women in their 20s and 30s and young couples has increased. I think that's a good trend.

In my case, at KOMB, I run an online shop, cooking classes, and catering in addition to the restaurant business. The reason I started those was that I didn't have the confidence to stand in the shop and serve customers every day, and I wanted to run different formats in parallel.

That feeling hasn't changed even now. In the future, I'd like to reach a point where restaurant sales account for about 30%, with profits generated from other businesses. That way, I can focus the restaurant itself even more on doing only what I truly want to do.

It would be ideal if you could achieve that.

Since the COVID-19 pandemic, people go out to eat in groups of four or more less often, don't they? Personally, I'm not good at going out to eat in large groups, so I think it's good that the mindset has shifted toward not having to participate if you don't want to.

At KOMB, we do have private bookings for company dinners and such, but I have a desire for people who are close to each other to enjoy themselves slowly. So, I think it's really great that those kinds of moments have increased among everyone.

So it wasn't necessarily all negative; there were significant positive aspects as well.

In my case, to be honest, many of the people who come to my place are regulars, so in that sense, I wasn't very affected by COVID.

However, I think the number of people drinking late at night has definitely decreased significantly. We are open until morning, and in the past, people would wander in at 3:00 or 4:00 AM, but lately, there's no one.

True. There might be few people like that now.

I really feel that people's daily schedules are shifting earlier. My body rhythm fits better with late hours, so I'm more energetic then, but sometimes I think I should put more effort into earlier hours now.

That's difficult. Unlike food, people don't necessarily start drinking alcohol from the middle of the day.

However, I believe there are always customers who want to have a drink at a bar late at night, so personally, I want to continue focusing my work on those late hours as much as possible.

However, I don't think the essence of a shop should change by focusing too much on attracting new customers. Personally, whether it's a bar or a sushi restaurant, I've always admired the counter. Especially for my generation born in the Showa era, there's an image that the counter is a place where top-tier adults go.

It's cool to become a regular there, sit down smoothly with a "Yo!" or "The usual!" and have them serve you "the usual." I think we should maintain that sense of aspiration and that high hurdle in a good way.

Harada-san, do you feel that you get more customers through referrals rather than first-timers?

Yes. At first, many people came after seeing us in magazines and such, but recently there are more referrals. However, with Japanese cuisine, customers tend to get nervous because of the shop's appearance and atmosphere, and I don't really want that at KOMB. I want people to eat in a relaxed state. In that sense, I try to keep the hurdle low.

But as Shimura-san said, it's not that I want to lower the hurdle extremely; I want to maintain that high hurdle in a good way.

For example, are there cases where people you taught in cooking classes come to the restaurant as customers next time?

Of course. There are also people who use both. Recently, there are many people from overseas, and they often promote us to their friends, which is a big help. When people who are interested in Japanese culture and food and have a sense of inquiry come, it makes cooking even more enjoyable for me.

There is inevitably a certain hurdle. Of course, I think it's important to convey that a place is easy to enter through signage or social media, but I think what's important is how much people can feel the comfort once they enter, even if the hurdle is high. So, I think having a hurdle is a good thing.

There are things you can only gain because there is a hurdle.

Yes. Also, my shop is on the 4th floor of a building, so the location is hard to enter. I think that's also one of the hurdles in a sense, but I want customers to feel as if a different world begins the moment they open the door. I feel that strongly.

The number of customers from overseas has increased recently, hasn't it? I imagine it's especially increasing at places like Shimura-san's.

Thankfully, tempura is very popular with overseas customers, and many people are coming. Some places seem to change their menus for overseas versus Japanese customers, but we don't do anything like that; we just provide an English translation of the menu. Everyone seems to enjoy their meal.

What everyone has in common is that they want to sit at the counter to experience the "sizzle" (the sense that whets the appetite) and the live feeling. Many people want to see the cooking process happening right in front of them, and some people are enthusiastically filming the tempura being fried or the chef's knife skills.

People who come seeking that live feeling enjoy it and then head home. For example, if a customer comes with the expectation of eating mushrooms because it's autumn, and I tell them a story about how I went mushroom picking, they show a lot of interest. That's the same for both Japanese and overseas customers.

Japanese cuisine in particular is sometimes structured on the assumption that the customer has common knowledge as a Japanese person. For points that are difficult for overseas people to understand, such as why we are serving this dish today, I provide supplementary information when serving the food.

Akasaka really has a lot of foreigners. Since the shop is on the 4th floor, I thought it might be hard to enter, but many people just pop in after seeing the sign.

One thing I keep in mind is that since many people are visiting for sightseeing, I think it's important to create a "highlight," like "I saw that when I went to this shop." It would be great if I could do that with drinks or products, but that's a work in progress, so right now my magic tricks have become that highlight (laughs). Anyway, I believe that leaving a highlight in some form increases customer satisfaction.

Is there a difference in the drinks ordered compared to Japanese customers?

I think there are differences depending on the country, but many people order cocktails. Whiskey-based cocktails, which Japanese people don't often order, are popular.

Thanks to taking orders from various foreigners, I can generally predict what they will order. People who order cocktails often drink something quite strong and leave after one or two glasses, while conversely, those who drink casual beverages might have several glasses and stay in the shop for a long time. I think there is such a tendency.

Whether they are Japanese or from overseas, I think communication skills are what's important at the counter. If there are ten customers, there are ten different personalities, so you have to respond to each one accordingly.

That's the difficult part, but it's also the best part, isn't it?

As you gain experience, you start to get a sense of what kind of person they are from the feeling when they first sit down, or how they take orders and order drinks. That's interesting.

This is something that can only be cultivated through face-to-face interaction.

We have many locations and dozens of craftsmen, and when I talk to them in internal training, questions like "How can I talk to customers?" come up.

I think the start of a conversation begins with something small. You can talk with confidence about things you know well, like "What are today's seasonal items?" or "Where did these shrimp come from?" I think you should have several such topics ready.

Those are the things asked most often.

For example, since we use sesame oil, I think conversations can flow well from things related to the products and menu, such as how the sesame oil is made, or where today's recommended sake is from and what kind of tempura it goes well with.

It's like always having several topics ready while also gaining experience in practice.

Of course, I don't think it's necessary to talk all the time. If we are talking the whole time, some people might think, "This craftsman is noisy." Since both sides are human, there's compatibility, so I don't think you have to be liked by everyone.

Thankfully, some customers nominate a craftsman, saying, "I like Mr./Ms. So-and-so." I think that's very important. If they eat delicious tempura under the Tsunahachi brand and sign, and also have a craftsman they like, they can have a double or triple layer of trust with the shop.

That's why I tell everyone at the shop to do work that makes regulars say, "I'll come again." The existence of these regulars also builds the craftsman's confidence. A young craftsman will happily report to me, "President, that person came all the way to see me the other day." That little bit of confidence might be the trigger for a second, third, or fourth regular to follow.

When that person transfers to another shop, the customers sometimes visit the shop they moved to. That's a very wonderful thing.

I also try to always pay attention to what kind of atmosphere the customer has and how much communication they want. Before service begins, I share detailed information about each customer with the staff. For example, in the case of business entertainment for a company, we keep our talking to a minimum and place importance on the business negotiations proceeding smoothly.

In terms of increasing my topics of conversation, I try to visit the production areas of the ingredients I use. When I do that, the details of the story are different. Customers are also happy, and conversations like "We were able to eat that again this year" or "Is that producer doing well?" are born.

I have the staff accompany me as much as possible, and when they do, they can explain the dishes with more heart, which expands the conversation with the customer.

Communication is born from various triggers.

Yes. I think if you can just create a trigger, you can have a smooth, natural conversation. If you try to force a conversation, it inevitably becomes unnatural and cuts off quickly.

If the email address at the reservation stage is a company name, I sometimes look up that company. Of course, I don't say that, but if I have some information about their work in my head, I can somewhat understand the conversations I hear in the background, which can be a trigger for me to join the conversation.

As a major premise, I want to first think about what the customer is looking for and communicate with them.

Of course, I think they can feel about 70% satisfaction just by enjoying the drinks and food without communicating. But with that, it often ends with "it was a good shop," and they don't feel like going again.

In that case, even if I'm thought of as a bit noisy, I try to communicate deeply. It might turn out negative, but even so, I think it's better for my business format to act with courage in a sense.

A shop that leaves even a slight impression might be more likely to have people come back. You mentioned you aren't very good at talking, but is the conversational skill of a bartender something that can be acquired through effort?

When people have a drink, they feel more relaxed and find it easier to talk. In those drinking situations, I try to talk while thinking about what would be fun for the customer to hear.

However, being a poor talker is often thought of as a disadvantage, but it's surprisingly not so. Rather, it can be accepted as a character trait. That can even liven up the atmosphere.

Rather, you make it your weapon.

Also, especially in the past, I used to rely on magic tricks when I was in trouble. Even now, I hint at it on my website and social media, so customers sometimes ask me, "Do you do magic here?" In that sense, magic is also one of my weapons.

This relates to the high hurdle, but I think the space of a counter is like a stage for "hare" (special occasions).

The reason people come to the counter is to see the various things related to the dishes unfolding before their eyes, or the personality of the chef or owner. To borrow Harada-san's words, it lies in the shop and the customer creating a single story together and getting excited as a whole.

At the counter, the chef or craftsman inside focuses their nerves on how to entertain the customer today, and when the customer feels that they are doing that much for them, they think, "I'm glad I came today." The moment that flow is successfully created is what you could call the best part.

I understand that very well. I think it's not just the taste, but the memory, the mood at the time—when everything reaches a climax, you think, "Ah, this is delicious." So, I'm very happy when the customer's tension and mine match perfectly and I can serve them.

Of course, I want the shop to be a special space, but at the same time, I want them to feel a comfort like being at home. For that reason, I value the attitude, wording, facial expressions, and atmosphere in customer service very much. I hope that customers who relax there can experience KOMB and recall memories like "Ah, how nostalgic," or receive new memories like "This is my first time!"

Should I call it the moment it clicks? I also have times when I can feel that, and that's when a customer comes to the shop for the second time. I can think, "They enjoyed themselves last time."

When I'm serving at the counter, I worry that maybe the customer is just smiling because they are kind, but when they visit again, I can truly feel that they enjoyed themselves.

I want as many people as possible to know the goodness of the counter. To that end, I want to continue promoting a counter culture that customers can aspire to.

My wife's uncle is the writer Tomomi Muramatsu. When he appeared in a Suntory Old commercial long ago, a narration played over the footage of him sitting at a bar counter, saying it's fine to drink with one finger, and fine to drink with two fingers. I still think that's very cool. The hurdle might be high, but I think there's a pleasure to be gained when you overcome it.

For example, when a gentleman is wooing a lady, going to a trendy French restaurant might be good, but I think his stock goes up a bit if he shares some trivia at the counter or demonstrates his etiquette there. Including such things, I think the counter is a place where a person's humanity comes out.

I think the presence of the food, the chef inside, and the atmosphere collectively make it so. I think it would be great if people could master the counter culture in various situations.

This is an era where Uber Eats and such have become so widespread and delicious things are easily delivered. In such times, the reason to go to a counter is to meet people and spend a fun and delicious time together. At that time, experiencing the aromas and dishes that can only be tasted there, and the story beyond that, is the best part of the counter, isn't it? I think demand will increase more in the future, and I want to provide such a space at KOMB as well.

From now on, it seems like unmanned restaurants will increase. While there are such efficient ways to eat and drink, I want to value the things that only exist at a counter. To do that, I think we won't be able to survive unless we show the unique individuality of the shop more than ever before. I want to do my best to become such a shop.