Yesterday I arranged to meet an old classmate and headed straight to the newly opened 橋山 Sukiyaki from the Nibonmatsu group.
It is a sister restaurant to Nibonmatsu next door and follows the same premium path, now with authentic Kansai sukiyaki overseen by a Michelin chef. In simple terms, it places Japan's understated luxury directly inside a Daan District lane.
Everyone carries pressure now. Places where people can occasionally hide away, eat properly, and talk at ease have become increasingly appealing.
Entering past bamboo blinds and Japanese corridors instantly shuts out Taipei's traffic. Tableside service remains unhurried throughout, like an old friend slowly cooking everything beside you until just right.
We mainly tried three items this time, and they left the deepest impressions:
Japanese A5 Wagyu Shinshin
The marbling was even like a work of art. Beef-fat aroma burst first, then the meat became silky and tender like the childhood feeling of a mother's clay-pot stew melting in the mouth. It was neither dry nor overly fatty, only comfortably right. A server heated the pan with beef fat, added sanontou sugar, then meat and vegetables, turning the process into a small ritual.
Uni, Scallop, and Peizhong Caviar
This appetizer defeated my restraint immediately. Uni was lavishly thick, with scallop and roe adding silky texture and a juicy pop. It tasted like life's occasional luxurious indulgence—you know it is excessive, but cannot resist another bite.
Wantan Red Bean Griddle Cake
Choosing this dessert ending was exactly right. The exterior was crisp, the red-bean filling gently sweet, and the beans' own aroma remained. One bite recalled the comfort of hot sweet rice dumplings in childhood winters, upgraded for adults.
Overall, it avoided forced ornate stacking and simply felt like eating well and receiving good care.
My old classmate left only one sentence after eating: 'When we next have something to celebrate, we will return.'
