Step into Yakiniku Matsukawa, and you're not just entering a restaurant; you're embarking on a culinary adventure that challenges your perception of cooking. This Japanese eatery in Dublin's Docklands area is a hidden gem, offering an experience akin to precision engineering in miniature.
As I entered, I was greeted by a staff member at Matsukawa Matcha, a prelude to the main event. Led upstairs, I felt like a VIP, anticipating a clandestine encounter. The atmosphere was intriguing, to say the least.
The menu presented a dilemma: the Irish wagyu omakase at €100 or the A5 Japanese at €150? I opted for a la carte, a strategic move to curate my own tasting journey. This sister restaurant to Matsukawa's Smithfield omakase counter promises a different kind of experience.
The setting is a stark contrast to its serene sibling. Brass grills, humming extraction, and shoji-inspired walls set the stage for a culinary spectacle. Yakiniku, Japanese barbecue, is an art form here. Thinly sliced beef reacts instantly to the metal grid, and intense heat liquefies fat in seconds. It's a delicate dance of timing and precision.
Hot sake, at €36, provides a warm embrace, a necessary calm before the grilling begins. We start with banchan (€8) and choregi salad (€14), a delightful prelude to the main event. Then, the moment of truth arrives with the appearance of foot-long tweezers.
These aren't your average kitchen tongs. They symbolize the delicate nature of the task at hand. The staff, like seasoned conductors, explain the cuts and timing, then step back, leaving us to wield the tweezers with care. The Japanese A5 wagyu tenderloin (€92) is a masterpiece, with intricate marbling and delicate fat. It's a dance of heat and timing, a responsibility at €23 per slice.
The Irish wagyu tenderloin (€30) is a different story. While tasty, it lacks the finesse of its Japanese counterpart. The chicken thigh shio-koji (€12) and pork shoulder (€11) offer simpler pleasures.
The evening becomes a delicate balance of monitoring heat, adjusting placement, and rescuing edges. The omakase menus tempt from the corner of my eye, a potential ceremony I might have missed. Dessert, a raspberry and blueberry sorbet (€6.50), leaves me contemplating my choices. Should I have embraced the A5 omakase? It's a hefty price, comparable to Tokyo's top yakiniku spots. Yet, the experience here is uniquely self-directed.
In summary, Yakiniku Matsukawa offers an exceptional dining experience with A5 wagyu, foot-long tweezers, and omakase-level pricing. It's an adventure for the senses, where cooking becomes an art form. But is it worth the price? That's a question for the culinary adventurers to debate.
