Arai-san's Opening Ritual
Arai-san, of course, is the first person on-site. It’s always busy, but with only one month before the official closure, the to-do list only seems to expand at an exponential rate no matter how much time he devotes to it.
Arai-san makes his way through the dining room, towards the end of the sushi bar where he addresses a small picture of Demetre Athanassiadis, taped to the end of the bar where Demetre would always sit. Demetre is the first landlord of the building and the person to whom Arai-san owes his current ownership of the restaurant.
The basement kitchen has operated for 50 years in the same space, meaning its state is of perpetual entropy. Even before entering the kitchen proper, it's obvious that the staff had to get creative at times, with various piles of items seemingly spilling out of its
periphery, stashed in little nooks and crannies. But upon closer inspection, there is a sense of organized chaos. Everything is judiciously placed so a few quick strides places everything within relatively easy reach.
The storage nook just outside of the basement kitchen. A rice cooker here . . . a sous vide circulator there . . .
The kitchen is spacious enough although awkwardly shaped, befitting of its older construction. The main area of the kitchen is oddly shaped, with one main rectangle and two smaller rectangles jutting out of the sides. In the main rectangle, an island and a four burner stove take centre residence. And along three sides of this rectangle lie the deep fryer, the salamander, the oven, the grill, a sink and the entrance to the freezer. The pass, a thin counter where dishes are given the final touches before being sent out, completes the metaphorical rectangle and is strategically located close to both kitchen entrances. Directly to the right of the pass is a dedicated dishwashing space with two sinks and the industrial dishwasher in the corner.
And just behind the pass is another small space with the soup warmer, the freezer and more shelving with bowls and boxes of strawberry Pocky.
The walls of the main space are adorned with differently shaped pots, pans and other assorted kitchen utensils tucked into any and all available space. The utensils are well-used; no lustre or shine and dents all showing a large accumulation of sweat, toil and oil. If you stand completely still, an aura can be felt emanating from the space.
Arai-san walks to the far corner, making his way past the kitchen island towards the grill. He stops to say a silent prayer of thanks to the god of fire for the continued safe operation of the restaurant, its employees and its guests . . . and then, a similar prayer to the god of water while in front of the sinks.
Arai-san's next destination is the O-jizosan in front of the basement stairs, where he gingerly places a glass of fresh water. Prayers are given once more to the building spirits for another day of safe operation.
To operate a restaurant, an element of luck is required. The stove might not work. The ducts might be blocked. There might be a problem with the plumbing. Staff might cut themselves. A guest might trip on the stairs. Arai-san prays daily to all of the necessary gods to ensure that another day can pass without major problems.
With these important tasks completed, the day can now truly begin.
Hiroha-san
The story of Hiroha Moriyuki (広羽守順) does not start in Ottawa but in Niagara Falls, where he was working at a Japanese gift shop. His immediate goal? To get another job so he could extend his work visa and continue working in Canada.
In the early 1990s, all of the managers and chefs had quit a few months after Arai-san had become the general manager so he was desperately on the search for people. Hiroha-san came to Ottawa with a recommendation from the former first manager of the Ottawa branch. With the precarious situation of the restaurant and Hiroha-san's certificate from one of Japan's cooking schools, Hiroha-san was quickly hired and Arai-san completed the paperwork for his work visa, albeit not without some minor legal obstacles.
He has been more or less responsible for the restaurant's sushi, briefly working as one of two sushi chefs and then solo, for 30 years.
Each day, he cooks approximately 15L of rice, or the shari, in preparation for the day's dinner service. Once the rice is cooked, he places it in the wooden hangiri or 飯切, a circular shallow container with a flat bottom, and uses it to spread the cooked rice for even cooling but also for ease in seasoning. He then portions the rice into plastic containers that are stored nearby.
The second task is to prepare the neta or ネタ, which is a general term for the ingredient placed on top of the rice. This task is never the same as it depends on the day. Hiroha-san might prep for a regular dinner service, or he might have gotten a special order in from Japan for an omakase dinner. The sushi program is a large appeal of the restaurant with the chiraishi bowl being the most popular sushi item. The monthly cost for fish is approximately $10,000.
Today marks 4 weeks from the day that Suisha will close. Ever since January 17, the day that Arai-san announced the restaurant's closure, the number of covers has steadily grown. In response, Hiroha-san has already prepared the neta and is prepping 50 sushi rolls in advance, trying to get ahead of the busy Saturday dinner service.
From afar, Hiroha-san's movements are silent, efficient and effortless. Up close, it's as if he is gliding. Without looking, he grabs a sheet of seaweed from a drawer behind him with his right hand and delicately places it on the counter in front of him. Using his left hand, he scoops rice from a container and shapes it with his right hand before setting it on the seaweed, gently coaxing the rice to fill the entirety of the surface. Ingredients are deftly placed on the bed of rice in quick succession. Sesame seeds, avocado, cucumber, unagi, salmon . . . The list goes on and on.
Using a well-worn bamboo mat, Hiroha-san softly and carefully forms a long sushi roll. He runs the edge of the knife along the counter's surface and with one smooth flick of the wrist, detaches the roll in a singular motion. Two hands transfer the roll to a waiting container behind him with a quick pivot of his feet.
Again and again, these series of movements are repeated until the containers are full. I look closely at each container in an attempt to discern their contents but nothing obvious jumps out at me. In fact, there's no discernible pattern and none of the containers have labels; they're unneeded. Hiroha-san knows the contents of each.
I ask whether he has any training and the response is humble. There is no mention of having graduated from a cooking school or any formal training; just that he has had continual practice, week after week, for 30 years.
Shirai-san and Oda-san
Shirai Takako (白井貴子) was initially hired in 1999 as a server for Suisha Gardens. She would soon take maternity leave and upon her return, Arai-san asked whether she would be interested in being the manager of Kadeya, the little shop next door that Arai-san had set up to import various hard to find Japanese goods that were previously sent by his mother. She agreed and worked at Kadeya until 2009, when Arai-san closed it down. Similar to the early 1990s, there was a small HR crisis so Yamaguchi-san, who was now the head chef at the now re-named C'est Japon à Suisha, wanted Shirai-san to work in the kitchen of the restaurant. She agreed and has been working as a chef since then.
Arai-san met Oda Tadayoshi (小田忠芳) during his time as the manager of the Niagara Falls branch in 1986. A mutual connection, Arai-san's assistant manager, would bring the two together when Oda-san was visiting Canada. After obtaining his work visa, Oda-san moved to Ottawa and soon enough, Yamaguchi-san recruited Oda-san to work as a chef in his restaurant. During this time, Oda-san met his future business partner, and opened a Japanese restaurant in Ottawa's West End. This restaurant would eventually be sold and Oda-san came to C'est Japon à Suisha where he has worked for 9 years.
Two hours from opening, Shirai-san and Oda-san are in the basement kitchen, organizing the foodstuffs brought in by major suppliers or the smaller grocery items that Shirai-san has bought in the morning and prepping what is required for the day, otherwise known as mise-en-place. They are responsible for everything on the menu that isn’t sushi.
In the past, Arai-san would experiment with the menu, adding items such as curry teishoku or ramen. In fact, oldtimers may remember a time when the restaurant had special dinners with izakaya items and any leftover items would be available for lunch the next day. But with the difficulty in bringing over staff with specific expertise and with their chef complement reduced to two as of March 2022, the menu had coalesced around the classic Japanese appetizers and entrees such as gyoza, salad, tonkatsu, donburi, teriyaki salmon or chicken.
The kitchen island where the vast majority of the prep work is completed on approximately $30,000 worth of food per month. Burners with pots containing teriyaki sauce and dashi are in the foreground,
Oda-san preparing the Suisha Combination (a dish consisting of shrimp & vegetable tempura, gyoza, chicken teriyaki and sushi) using salmon nigiri prepared by Hiroha-san. The initial concept was designed by Kubo-san, a former head chef and was very popular, if not the most, popular non-sushi dish on the menu.
Oda-san grabbing gyoza from the freezer and layering the gyoza in a container for easy access later during the night.
Shirai-san is in charge of the fry station. Her mise-en-place consists of preparing ingredients that will be deep fried later in the evening. In the above pictures, she is preparing tonkatsu, vegetables, tofu and squid.
Oda-san prepping the salad for the day.
Shirai-san attaching the required labels to the restaurant's ginger dressing, that is sold separately. While not exactly sure when the restaurant started to sell its ginger dressing, Arai-san speculated that the Ottawa branch has been selling it since at least 1991.
Despite technically being part of a larger organization and having identical recipes on paper, the ginger dressing and all of the dishes have evolved at all of the Branches, with the coming and going of various chefs.
While there is an assigned dishwasher during dinner service, Oda-san will take on the dishwashing role during mise-en-place and is often found in this portion of the kitchen lined with sinks and the industrial dishwasher.
In the above photo, a weak yet constant flow of water is leaking out of the tap. Due to difficulties in sourcing parts for an older commercial sink and finding a plumber with the required hand dexterity, the flow of water ran unabated.
The Last Hour Before Opening
With 5PM approaching quickly, the servers are popping in the kitchen to say hello to Oda-san and Shirai-san as they continue with their mise-en-place. Everyone else is prepping the restaurant to be ready to serve.
Two staff members per day are dedicated to cleaning. They grab cleaning supplies and a bucket from the basement. Even with the two staff, Arai-san is cleaning the main floor, rapidly wiping down surfaces. Later, he would apologize to me for having to move my gear to another table so he could clean.
Two servers opening little parasols which are used primarily as decorations for dessert.
Shirai-san filling up her fry station with fresh oil and Oda-san double checking that his grill station is operational.
5PM - Service Begins
With the beginning of service, the intercom in the basement kitchen scratchily comes to life switching between the sound of patrons from the main dining room and the Japanese background music.
Originally there was an electronic bell to communicate between the two kitchens, but it was used so often that the electronics constantly wore out. Arai-san spent an inordinate amount of time looking for a hardier wireless solution, but due to the old construction of the building and resulting thickness of the walls, had to settle on this wired solution, costing approximately $600. It has lasted 20 years.
A small ticket machine to the left of the intercom churns out tickets at a leisurely pace, with the distinctly nostalgic and lo-fi sound of an inkjet printer.
While Shirai-san or Oda-san will get to the ticket if they're available . . .
More often than not, a server will walk through the kitchen and will read off the ticket before placing it on the other side of the pass. Information about their assigned tables' dining flow will also be relayed through the usage of the word "push," instructing the kitchen to prioritize certain orders should diners be eating fast.
Sliced green onions and cubed tofu, the garnishes for miso soup prepped earlier in the day, sit in plastic containers next to the soup warmer. Soon after the start of service, a server will put the garnishes in multiple bows, expediting miso soup prep.
Oda-san in the corner of the kitchen, juggling orders on the grill, on the stove behind him and the salamander to the left (not in view in the above picture). Above, Oda-san is placing gyoza in the frying pan on one of the four burners.
Shirai-san's fry station is located next to the pass. At the kitchen island, she makes tempura batter to order, and once the ingredient is coated, places it in the fryer behind her. Once complete, she plates the dish and hands it off to a waiting server for the garnishes.
The resting place for completed orders. The first completed order of the night is gyoza, tempura and French fries.
In the six month lead-up to the closing date, the restaurant is consistently full and will serve approximately 120 guests every night with 70-80 people on the waiting list. This increase of 30% has been the new status quo since Arai-san announced the impending closure.
With the restaurant closing in one month, there is some talk about reducing the food order to decrease potential food waste. But with the restaurant still being booked solid and the dislike of a possible change to the customer experience, Arai-san chose to move forward with the usual food order.
The staff is running ragged but despite it all, the focus is still the same. To serve and cook with hospitality in your heart.
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