Only a few more meters and we are there. We will be able to find our favorite restaurants, those without which the past year would not be complete. Toritcho is one of them. Ageless, always present, he plays the intruder in the rue des crêpes, in Paris. A stone’s throw from Montparnasse station, and therefore from Brittany, it reminds the Japanese of the taste of the country and of the regulars that of their intimate tradition.
The kawa shake, this maki with the famous grilled salmon skin is the healthy embodiment of the chip sandwich. It is fatty, salty, crispy, addictive. The six pieces are swallowed in one go.
Its unpretentious izakaya look has a lot to do with it. The unfussy welcome, the worn plastic menu, the dusty figurines, the advertising poster for Asahi beer and, above all, the mustache and the small round glasses of the itamae (the name of the chef in Japanese restaurants), present at the counter, give the impression of being at home. Even in times of pandemic, the itamae is there, behind the window on which are taped posters promoting the menus, the website, the possibility to take out, to make click and collect: in short, all the options, except that of filing for bankruptcy. However, it is 1 pm and there is no one there. The rest of the street is a giant queue for full pancakes.
To support the great classics, the order is doubled. The leftovers will hold well until the aperitif… The itamae gets to work, sizzling the salmon skin on the plancha. There is nothing better to make salivate gourmets nostalgic for this canteen also known for its smell of fats. On a bench, under a ray of spring sunshine, the plastic boxes open. The light plays with the flesh of the fish. Some sushi are tone on tone, lace of sea bream on white rice; the mackerel, thicker, slightly gray in the center, is rougher; lean tuna, maguro, is ruby.
A little bit hiding a multidimensional universe
A “crack!” And the chopsticks are on the attack. The suzuki, bar sushi, immaculate, resists slightly like thick rice paste. A slice of vinegared ginger and sea bream, tai, crystalline, melts on the tongue: pearly evanescence. Another slice of gari, the palate is refreshed. Mackerel, saba, fibrous and saline, officially declares its status as white meat of the seas. He has lamb’s lettuce, as they say.
The richness of this range always surprises. Attention sharpens. Behind this apparent nothing (a few pieces of fish on rice) hides a multidimensional world in which lemurs are yet another facet. More greedy, they describe a crunchy and tangy universe (oshinko, salted radish), bonbonesque (kanpyo, roasted squash stems) or downright transgressive like the kawa shake. This maki with the famous grilled salmon skin is the healthy embodiment of the chip sandwich. It is fatty, salty, crispy, addictive. The six pieces are swallowed in one go. Anyway, it will not be saved for the aperitif.
A little vinegar interlude and the sushi dance resumes, a little more panicked, less concentrated, carried away by the untimely movement of the chopsticks. They stop, however, seized by the cadmium red of the tuna. The maguro will be enjoyed as a dessert. Because, silky and limpid, it cleans the mouth with its iron clarity. Rituals have this strength, that of restoring immutable tastes, whatever the context.
The address Toritcho, 47, rue du Montparnasse, Paris 14e. Phone. : 01-43-21-29-97.
The service Take out on site (ten minutes waiting) or through
of just-eat.fr. Open Tuesday to Saturday from noon to 6 p.m.
The essential Grilled salmon skin maki.
The bill Around € 20 per person.
Find all our addresses here.