She wouldn't believe me. Look, I said, sukiyaki is a dish. No, she said, Sukiyaki is a name - remember the pop song, she said, Sukiyaki it was called. Early 80s. Classic stuff. And they even sang some of it in Japanese.
Who did, I asked. I can't remember, she said, but I know they did. Aha, I said, but did they know what they were singing? Aha, she said. And then there it was on the menu of Sukiyaki for all to see: sukiyaki: "Scotch beef sirloin and fresh vegetables cooked and served at your table." She conceded with far more grace than I would have been able to muster had the situation been reversed. But it is hard to be ungracious after lunch somewhere as nice as Sukiyaki.
St Albans is not the first place you might think of looking for a decent Japanese restaurant. Mind you, if you listened to Costanza, the connoisseur of 80s pop, and The Gunner, her immensely civilised husband, you would have thought that there aren't any decent restaurants in St Albans at all - and they should know: they live there. This seems a little odd, seeing that St Albans has more than its fair share of millionaires and media hounds.
Anyway, I came across the name of Sukiyaki while browsing through the info Michelin sent along when the new guide came out recently. They had awarded it a red M, or whatever sign they use these days to signify good food at reasonable prices, and, after weeks of cutting-edge cooking and gastro-pubs, I fancied something by way of a change. Perhaps my friends can be forgiven being unaware of this little gem on their doorstep: Sukiyaki has been on Spencer Street for six years, it seems, without anyone getting terribly excited about it. But for a restaurant to survive that long anywhere is a sign that it is doing most things right.
The menu, which is helpfully laid out along western lines with starters and main courses, isn't exactly packed with ground- breaking stuff. Aside from the eponymous sukiyaki, there's a bit of teriyaki, a tonkatsu dish or two, and tempura, naturally, among the main courses; and yakitori, agedashi dofu and kushikatsu among the starters. Each dish is accompanied by a short, sensible explanation of what it is, so there is no need to worry about displaying embarrassing ignorance. Nor is there anything of the raw fish, braised jellyfish colon or deep- fried cocks-combs variety. This is Japanese food for beginners, and jolly good it is, too.
For it doesn't matter how sophisticated food is. What matters is how it is cooked and served. Both my companions were not only novices in matters of tempura and tonkatsu, but ardent vegetarians as well. No problem. The prawns were happily dropped from the roster of tempura moriawase, and replaced instead with a generous supply of further veg in an alpha-double-plus batter, light and friable. Before that, agedashi dofu - deep-fried bean curd - in a sauce bouncing with ginger, mirin, soya and seaweed stock, and a classic miso soup had provided a gentle entry, with rice and pickles to provide bulk and counterpoint.
The pickles were an item. There was a time - perhaps there still is - when a bride's way with pickles defined her negotiating strength in the marriage contract in certain countries in the Far East. On the basis of the pickles we had, the pickler in the kitchen at Sukiyaki could command her or his own price. They were delicate, poised, lightly acid little coils of vivid green cucumber and deep purple radish.
In relation to my own set of dishes - gyoza dumplings and buta shoga (thin slices of pork in a ginger sauce) - perfect foils to burnish the tastebuds between each mouthful. The pastry on the dumpling was refined, the stuffing perky with aromatics. The slices of pork of the buta shoga were like folds of linen, bathed in a mirin-sweetened sauce to which ginger added a cheerful warmth. The miso soup had an unusual degree of bloom and depth.
The point that I kept coming back to was how clean and fresh it all tasted. Do you want more? Occasionally, yes, but this will do me very nicely on a regular basis, thank you. And, at £8.50 for my set lunch, I should be able to afford it.
In fact, the huge total for the three of us was £49.35, and that included £5.40 on beer, £3 on sake and £2.30 on wine. All in all, though it pains me to say so, Michelin have got it absolutely right as far as Sukiyaki is concerned.
