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When it snows in Hokkaido, it’s time for the smoky flavours of ‘robatayaki’

Yellow 'chochin' lanterns beckon customers to enter 'izakayas' along a snow-laden alley in Hokkaido. — Pictures by CK Lim
Yellow 'chochin' lanterns beckon customers to enter 'izakayas' along a snow-laden alley in Hokkaido. — Pictures by CK Lim

HOKKAIDO, Jan 13 — It’s freezing in Hokkaido. Winter in Japan’s northernmost island is serious business, with temperatures dropping to as low as -6°C when it’s cold.

Which means that staying warm with hot food is a necessity but more than that, in Hokkaido, it’s a culinary tradition. Why not ward off the icy chill while partaking of a delicious meal at the same time?

There is nabe, a traditional Japanese hotpot, as well as morsels of oden bobbing away in a vat filled with a light dashi broth. There are delicate slabs of simmered yudofu, steaming hot nikuman (meat-filled buns) and yakiimo (roasted sweet potatoes).

Even dessert during wintertime must be soupy and hot: you can’t go wrong with a bowl of shiruko, a sweet soup made from adzuki beans, and full of chewy mochi (glutinous rice cake) balls.

Smoke gets in your eyes (left). Grilling skewers of fish over charcoal (right).
Smoke gets in your eyes (left). Grilling skewers of fish over charcoal (right).

But there are exceptions to this soupy, steamy rule.

Walk into a snow-laden alley with shoulder-to-shoulder izakayas (Japanese diners) on both sides, the chochin (paper lanterns) at every entrance beckoning customers to enter, and you will soon realise what calls out to you the most isn’t the subtler aromas of oden or nabe broth but the savoury smoke of meat, fish and vegetables being grilled.

For when it snows in Hokkaido, it’s time for the smoky flavours of robatayaki. Legend has it that robatayaki was first introduced by fishermen who desperately craved hot foods while on long, cold fishing trips.

They couldn’t exactly start an open fire on their boats, made entirely of wood, so they brought stone hearths on board with them. Filled with charcoal, these portable hearths were more than a way of grilling the catch of the day; they were also a way for the fishermen to keep warm in the cold seas off the shores of Hokkaido.

Arranging 'binchotan' or white charcoal is a skill honed from years of practice.
Arranging 'binchotan' or white charcoal is a skill honed from years of practice.

Today, there are robata restaurants with proper communal-style irori hearths, around which customers may watch the cook, often a master with years of experience, grill skewers of fish over charcoal. And not just fish; there could be scallops infused with the aroma of smoke and lightly charred tiger prawns.

Though less common, even meat and greens are now part of a robatayaki menu. Which blurs the line between robatayaki and other grilling styles such as yakitori (chicken) or yakiniku (predominantly beef and pork). Some robata restaurants might even allow you to grill the food yourself, depending on their setup.

At better robata restaurants, only binchotan or white charcoal is used. First produced in the Wakayama Prefecture during the Edo period, binchotan is specifically made from the ubame oak. Harder than black charcoal, binchotan can burn longer and doesn’t smoke up a room as much.

From preparing to plating, every aspect of 'robatayaki' is carefully performed.
From preparing to plating, every aspect of 'robatayaki' is carefully performed.

That last trait is especially important when you consider that traditional robatayaki involves a large room of patrons arranged around the robata chef cooking over his treasured irori hearth. Arranging binchotan or white charcoal is a skill honed from years of practice, and the chef’s full focus is crucial here.

Indeed, from preparing to plating, every aspect of robatayaki is carefully performed. However, dining robatayaki style isn’t limited to just robata restaurants.

In the port town of Kushiro, it isn’t uncommon to see outdoor robatayaki stalls being set up on the banks of Kushiro River once the temperature drops and the snow starts falling. It’s quite a wintertime wonder, with the iconic Nusamai Bridge overlooking passers-by as they stop at their favourite stalls.

You can tell by the savoury, smoky aroma that every piece has been grilled to perfection by a master.
You can tell by the savoury, smoky aroma that every piece has been grilled to perfection by a master.

Some might argue that these yatai stalls aren’t truly offering the robatayaki experience, given that it’s in the open air and that anyone could drop by. (Historically, robata restaurants tend to have a male-dominated clientele so perhaps some of that chagrin is misplaced chauvinistic nostalgia.)

Fans would counter that the true robatayaki experience is what you make of it — a group of strangers gathering to watch a master grill meat and seafood in front of them, and to wait patiently for their turn to be served.

As with other foodie FOMO (“fear of missing out”) situations, a visitor might make his decision as to which robatayaki stall to patronise based on the length of the queue. But truly, one should just trust one’s senses, especially one’s sense of smell.

A lightly charred tiger prawn, 'robatayaki' style.
A lightly charred tiger prawn, 'robatayaki' style.

You can tell by the savoury, smoky aroma that every piece has been grilled to perfection by a master. And if your smell betrays on one particular instance, no matter; that’s just another reason to try the next robatayaki stall.

There could be worse problems than to sample the grilled delicacies at different stalls till you discover what you judge to be the best. At any rate, it will keep you warm and your mind off the snow, now falling heavier, like a blanket of binchotan ash.

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