The front door at Burgstraße number 5 is quite easy to find. But inside, on a narrow, steep wooden staircase, the paths of the newcomers separate from those of the regular customers. The inexperienced storm up to the second floor. The others know that access to what is currently probably the most exciting restaurant in Munich can be found on the first floor, behind an inconspicuous, almost broom closet-like door.
It’s easy to get lost in this 450-year-old town house, known as the “Schreiberei” as the people of Munich call it. But at some point the last of the three dozen evening guests found their way and entered the interior design sensation that opened up. Between warm-toned walls, remains of medieval walls and round solid wood tables, you walk over an orange-bronze fleece carpet into the main room or to the right into the emerald-green private room. An SZ colleague aptly called the interior of Munich star chef Tohru Nakamura’s new workplace, which opened in January, “Oscar-ready”. In fact, one feels a little like an intruder in a noble private room – if the welcome weren’t so warm and the aperitif already chilled.
A feeling like in private chambers – once you have found your way into the Tohru.
(Photo: Robert Haas)
With a glass of champagne (or optionally sparkling fine sake) you take out the evening menu, which is designed as a printed Depeche, from a casket. The principle is simple: the meal costs 255 euros plus drinks. There is no a la carte. Ten courses are listed in telegram style. Where the puzzle fun begins. What was the difference between chawanmushi and katsuobushi again?
Welcome to Tohru Nakamura’s realm. Like no other, the German-Japanese, who had already risen to the Michelin starry sky with the Werneckhof, succeeds in combining the magic, the freshness, the lightness of Japanese ingredients with French classics. Nakamura does for high-end gastronomy what the British fashion designer Paul Smith created for the world of fashion: classic with a twist. Yes, it’s a blazer, but the buttonholes are purple and the handkerchief is striped.
The first course already includes a piece of Bavarian trout on a wafer-thin egg flan (Chawanmushi) with a gentle soy note. Appropriate for a summer evening, on top came a spoonful of shaved ice flakes, like those used for a popular dessert in Japan. And so began a full-length and entertaining performance, a dramaturgically sophisticated production, full of constant excitement for what may come next, including cliffhangers and plot points.
We experienced every single dish as a colorful and delicately designed work of art, without the ostentation and chichi that can sometimes be found in top gastronomy. Writing is about ingredients and combining. Wagyu, sorrel, seaweed. Asparagus, Sakura, Koji.
Refined chic: the evening menu as a printed Depeche.
(Photo: Robert Haas)
Each course has its twist. Even number three, actually just a small cup of dashi, the Japanese equivalent of a consommé brewed from seaweed, is refined at the table in the form of a small tea ceremony with grains of roasted rice. The only thing we found funny, but also a bit over the top, was a wooden rack on which steak knives for the meat main course (number nine on the Depeche) were arranged. Half an ox could have been filleted with this tool. Only a piece of lamb had to be processed. We would have preferred to use our fingers rather than heavy weapons to bring this together with two sauces, a golden-yellow turmeric emulsion and a dark-sweet-herb mustard seed demi-glace, to the tongue.
Even after dessert, an appetizing, refreshing, but not piled up, but filigree and colorfully arranged bowl made of mousse, balls, ice cream and crunchy grains (rhubarb, sudachi, matcha and roasted rice, said the menu Depeche), insatiable guests can have another one enjoy a battery of sweet fondants. Including a bubble of liquid chocolate served on a spoon and burst between the palate and tongue. A wonderful reason to justify another glass of Armagnac.
In general, the glasses: As the casket mentioned at the beginning reveals, a drink accompaniment is also offered, either seven glasses of wine or sakes. We left it at a strong Chardonnay from Austria, which we became very friendly with that evening. Also worth mentioning is the extremely tasty non-alcoholic version of three cold teas, one white, one green and one kombucha. A real alternative to alcohol, but also in terms of price (55 euros).
The evening provides topics of conversation like an art biennial
We found the service friendly and humorous. We would only have needed a slow button during the explanations of the served dishes. What was the white mousse made of next to the roasted asparagus (course seven)? Or the flower-shaped flake next to the piece of bonito (the second fish appetizer): was that maitake or myoga?
The restaurant review “Kostprobe” in the Süddeutsche Zeitung has a long tradition: it has been published weekly in the local section since 1975, and online for a few years now and with a rating scale. About a dozen editors with culinary expertise from all departments – from Munich, science to politics – take turns writing about the city’s gastronomy. The selection is endless, the Bavarian economy is just as important as the Greek fish restaurant, the American fast food chain, the special bratwurst stand or the gourmet restaurant decorated with stars. The special thing about the SZ taster: The authors write under pseudonyms, often with a culinary touch. They go into the restaurant to be tested unnoticed about two or three times, depending on how long the budget given by the editors lasts. Iron basic rules: a grace period of one hundred days for the kitchen of a new restaurant to familiarize itself. And: Never get caught working as a restaurant critic – to be able to describe food and drink, service and atmosphere impartially. SZ
Of course, an evening in a two-star restaurant is not a cooking seminar. But if you want to understand how … oh, enough with the theory, we let ourselves drift. And in the end there was just as much discussion material as after a visit to an art biennial or a grand opera. Course number two, for example, a kind of mini croquette with a pinch of caviar and fried strands of orange zest: was that a cheeky but successful creation? Or did it rob the caviar of its character? Whatever the case, everyone enjoyed it.
So, cards on the table, was there a personal favourite? Totally subjective? Yes, clearly. That was the crab, number four on the menu. Perhaps it was due to the summer evening, but there has hardly ever been a dish that exploded with the full freshness of the Atlantic on the palate. The tender strands of crab paired with the umami of a simmered mussel and the airy acidity of a green vinaigrette… gosh, Mr. Nakamura, we would have had two of this course. Or three.
Omitting? No!
And left something else out? Well, the veggie course of grilled asparagus with almond butter and koji mushroom didn’t have an easy time between threads of Wagyu beef on pointed cabbage and a buttery slice of deep-sea fish called kinmedai with beurre blanc, which funnily enough means shiny slimehead in German.
But, again: leave it out? no Never. You wouldn’t rip chapters out of a good book just because some passages are more exciting than others.
An evening at Tohru’s is a total work of art. An expensive one. But also a lasting one.
Tohru in the writing room, Burgstrasse 5, 80331 Munich. Opening times: Tuesday to Saturday from 7 p.m., telephone: 089/21529172.