Tokyo’s dining scene is filled with restaurants built around concepts, pedigrees and carefully polished identities. AZ feels different. It is, at its core, a chef cooking the food he wants to cook.
The restaurant is essentially run by a single man. Kazuki Yokohama serves as chef, host and sommelier, assisted only with basic support and dishwashing. There is no brigade, no elaborate choreography and little in the way of theatrics. The focus is squarely on ingredients, cooking and hospitality.
Yokohama’s... More
Tokyo’s dining scene is filled with restaurants built around concepts, pedigrees and carefully polished identities. AZ feels different. It is, at its core, a chef cooking the food he wants to cook.
The restaurant is essentially run by a single man. Kazuki Yokohama serves as chef, host and sommelier, assisted only with basic support and dishwashing. There is no brigade, no elaborate choreography and little in the way of theatrics. The focus is squarely on ingredients, cooking and hospitality.
Yokohama’s background helps explain the character of the restaurant. Originally from Shizuoka Prefecture and raised in Iwate, he trained at the prestigious Tsuji culinary school in Tokyo before spending roughly eight years working within a restaurant group operating in Ebisu and Nakameguro. Unlike many chefs who focus exclusively on the kitchen, he also earned certification as a J.S.A. Sommelier through the Japan Sommelier Association, one of Japan’s most respected professional wine qualifications. The dual training is evident throughout the experience. AZ is not simply a restaurant run by a chef; it is a restaurant run by someone who thinks equally about food, wine and hospitality.
Our visit was entirely unplanned. After a concert at Suntory Hall, we called on the off chance that they might be able to accommodate two late arrivals. Rather than turning us away, Yokohama welcomed us in and assembled a short tasting menu from what was available that evening, incorporating a couple of personal requests along the way. The result felt less like a restaurant performance and more like being cooked for by an exceptionally talented host.
The menu moved comfortably between Italy and Japan. It began with aged ham and olives, followed by Hokkaido trout, grilled vegetables, sea bream from Kumamoto, octopus and a succession of thoughtfully composed dishes showcasing excellent seasonal produce. Throughout the meal, the quality of the ingredients was immediately apparent, but equally impressive was the restraint with which they were handled. Nothing felt overcomplicated. Every dish seemed designed to highlight rather than disguise its primary ingredient.
The chef was also happy to accommodate a small request and prepared two pasta courses that were not part of the standard sequence. The first, a spaghettini with hamaguri clams and young leeks, was beautifully understated, allowing the natural sweetness and salinity of the clams to take centre stage. The second was a classic Bolognese prepared at our request. It would have been easy for such a dish to feel out of place in a menu built around premium seafood and seasonal produce, but instead it felt entirely natural—comforting, deeply flavoured and executed with the same care as the rest of the meal.
One detail that stood out during the evening was Yokohama’s approach to pasta. In an era where many ambitious Italian restaurants automatically equate quality with house-made fresh pasta, he deliberately goes in the opposite direction. He uses a premium dried pasta from a carefully selected producer, believing it provides superior texture and structure for the sauces he serves. After tasting the pasta courses, it is difficult to argue with the results. The pasta possessed the firmness and resilience that only excellent dried pasta can achieve, providing the perfect vehicle for both the delicate clam sauce and the richer Bolognese.
The highlight of the meal for me was the beef course. Rather than the young, heavily marbled Wagyu typically associated with luxury Japanese beef, Yokohama served mature Tajima cattle from Awaji Island. Tajima cattle are the ancient purebred foundation of Japanese Wagyu, prized for their unique genetics and low-melting-point fat. While commercial Kobe beef generally focuses on carefully raised steers around thirty months of age, these rare mother cows spend many years developing flavour and character. The result is fundamentally different: firmer texture, less overt richness, but layers of nutty, savoury umami that younger cattle simply cannot achieve.
This style of beef is not for everyone. Diners expecting the buttery softness of conventional Kobe may find it too firm. I happen to fall firmly into the other camp. The additional maturity creates complexity, depth and persistence of flavour that reward chewing and contemplation. It is beef with personality rather than merely texture.
Equally noteworthy was the wine service. Yokohama’s J.S.A. sommelier training was evident in the thoughtful recommendations throughout the meal. The pairings felt natural rather than formulaic, enhancing the dishes without drawing attention to themselves. His ability to move seamlessly between the roles of chef, sommelier and host contributed enormously to the relaxed and personal atmosphere of the evening.
What struck me most about AZ was the consistency of the chef’s convictions. The mature Tajima beef and the decision to use premium dried pasta instead of fresh pasta are both expressions of the same philosophy. He is not particularly interested in following convention or meeting preconceived expectations. He simply chooses what he believes produces the best flavour.
AZ is unlikely to be mentioned alongside Tokyo’s grand tasting-menu destinations, nor does it seem interested in competing with them. What it offers instead is something increasingly rare: a talented chef-sommelier cooking excellent ingredients according to his own convictions, while remaining flexible enough to welcome two unexpected guests after a concert and cook them a memorable dinner.
Sometimes that is more than enough. Less
