Beyond those Noren curtains adorning Itadaku’s unassuming entrance lies a profound sense of authenticity.

Itadaku’s intent is clear - ‘We would like Itadaku to be not just a restaurant for eating, but a restaurant where you can also experience Japanese culture’, the menu explains.

I’d forgotten how efficient service is in these establishments. Meticulous mise-en-place means dishes are prepared, plated and presented often in seconds.

This resulted in impeccable timing, with dishes arriving just as we finished the previous one. I assumed it was because I had lived in Japan for four days and was ‘in sync’ with the rhythm, but it was probably just the mastery of the service team.

We ordered several small plates after navigating the Tardis-like menu.

The best chefs act as guardians of quality, and you intuitively trust them to uphold the integrity of ingredient and technique.

@masaru.sakagami is one such chef.

His menu proudly showcases provenance, calling out specific farmers and fields, celebrating Japanese ingredients and techniques. Shout out to Farmer Takeda for his awesome sweet potatoes.

The food was outstanding – possibly the best series of dishes I’ve eaten this year.

We started with pickled cabbage, to put the Serb at ease. The chicken meatballs were light, fragrant and delicate, the teriyaki sweet, fatty and moreish. Hard to believe they came from the same animal; such was the difference.

The wagyu beef was a winner. The Serb claimed she sensed its greatness by its aura alone. It was succulent, decadent umami on a stick.

The vegetables were next – the shiitake’s simplicity, the sweet potato’s sweet heat, and the eggplant’s complexity – they should be poster children for vegetarianism.

As we left, the team’s enthusiastic ‘Arigatou gozaimashita’ was infectious. I found myself thanking every table on my way out.

Well done for creating another great restaurant so far from where I live.