Nobu

by Nobu Matsuhisa

  Although I had banned the Slider, I also knew that guests might complain when they saw that it was no longer on the menu. I had to do something. Matsuhisa is my point of origin, and as soon as I returned there, I told the chefs that I wanted to make a Nobu Style slider that was even better than the one in Malibu. Together, we brainstormed about how to make a bun without using bread. We tried replacing it with rice patties, like a rice burger, as well as with a kind of fluffy fish paste called hanpen. Our final solution was to combine crushed, well-drained tofu, yamaimo (Japanese mountain yam), and some seasonings, shape this mixture into buns, and bake them for twenty to thirty minutes. When filled with a wagyu beef patty and sautéed shiitake, these made an even better burger than the one in Malibu. That was the birth of the Matsuhisa Slider.

  NEVER FORGET THE ESSENCE—IN COOKING, SIMPLE IS BEST

  Young chefs occasionally surprise me by coming up with difficult and complex dishes that leave even me trying to guess how they made them. When that happens, I ask, “How long do you think it’ll take you to make an order of fifteen at a time?” The response is usually a groan.

  I know they want to impress me with an artistic masterpiece that showcases all their skills as a chef. But that isn’t enough to make a dish professional. It’s disappointing when something you’ve worked really hard on fails to make it onto the menu. At the same time, however, this is how chefs learn that, unlike music or painting, cooking doesn’t culminate in the creation of a single dish. You have to make that dish into a recipe that any chef can follow to reproduce the same thing, repeatedly and exactly, even if they get ten or twenty orders at once.

  I don’t reject the elaborate efforts of any chef outright. After all, I used to do the same thing myself. Instead, I simply share what I would do. I know how it feels to be itching to try new things, and I want them to feel free to experiment. I hope they will discover for themselves through trial and error that the best way is to serve food that is simple with minimal embellishment.

  There are countless ways to make food look pretty. When I was young, I garnished dishes with seasonal flowers, displayed food on large, ornately decorated plates, and came up with flashy presentations. There was also a period in my career when I liked to show off my culinary skills. Now, however, my cooking leans increasingly toward simplicity. When I slice two or three pieces of sashimi, arrange them on a plain white plate, and place them in front of my guest, I put all my heart into determining the volume, the timing, and the way I place the dish. It is a personal and impassioned performance for my guests at the counter. I feel as if I have come full circle, returning to the style of a traditional Japanese sushi bar.

  I have worked for over fifty years in the world of sushi, and I love it from the bottom of my heart. I see sushi as the height of simplicity, the most profound food in the world. Driven by this love, I have constantly pursued what it means to be a sushi chef. In all these years, this feeling has never changed.

  What does it mean to be a sushi chef? It’s hard to put into words, but at the very least, I know that it doesn’t mean showing off your skills to your guests. Only when you have stripped things down to the bare essentials and eliminated every extraneous detail can you discover the essence of making sushi. Although prep work takes a long time, the actual process of making each piece is very simple: you just gently shape it in your hand and serve it. For that very reason, I want to create the perfect balance of topping, sushi rice, and hand movement, remove any distractions in size, color, or presentation, and bring out the very best in the ingredients.

  In any profession, it’s only when we have fully grasped its true essence that we can break from tradition. Conversely, if we forget that essence, all our efforts will come to nothing. As long as we assume that success means receiving recognition and praise, as long as our focus remains fixed on the superficial, we will get no closer to the true nature of our work. If we haven’t grasped its essence and don’t love it from the bottom of our heart, our work will never bear fruit, no matter how hard we try. But once we’ve found the essence of our profession and start doing it purely for the love of it, our hard work will always open the path before us. That’s why I keep traveling the world to encourage our staff to try new things and to remind them never to lose sight of the essence.

  6

  Transcending a Crisis in Our Partnership

  * * *

  Constantly perfecting quality

  PULLING OUT OF PARIS

  Nobu Paris opened in 2001 and closed in 2003. This was the only Nobu that ever closed due to a breakdown in communication with my business partners. The restaurant itself was great and had a high reputation with our guests, but the approach of the local partner was not compatible with my philosophy.

  This strained my relationship with De Niro and Meir as well, and for a while, we became a bit distant. It would be another two years or so before we opened any new Nobu restaurants. It was not that I disliked the restaurant in Paris. It was just that I and the local partner were not on the same wavelength. Nobu is the embodiment of my passion for cooking. If my partner doesn’t understand this, then it’s impossible to create a Nobu together. This was the lesson our management team learned through this painful experience.

  Even though we had to close the restaurant, we still gained something. It was here that we first met Hervé Courtot, who was hired as a kitchen chef when Nobu Paris opened. Hervé had previously worked making French cuisine at a luxury hotel, but he had a strong interest in and a deep respect for Japanese food. He absorbed the Nobu Style willingly and faithfully. When I taught him how to make Japanese soup stock, for example, he weighed each ingredient I used to the last milligram in his quest to replicate the flavor. After the Paris restaurant closed, I stayed in touch with him, promising him that one day we would work together again. In 2008, he joined us in the kitchen of the newly opened Nobu in Dubai.

  Dubai is located in the Islamic world, and there are many restrictions on foods, including seasonings. The use of alcohol is also strictly prohibited. Hervé was the perfect man for this job as he had once worked as a chef in a hotel in Dubai. He now oversees the Nobu restaurants in the entire Middle East region, including Riyadh in Saudi Arabia and Doha in Qatar, as well as Nobu Moscow in Russia.

  STARTING OVER IN PARIS

  My partner for the Matsuhisa restaurants in Greece ran a pop-up in a hotel in Paris. Pop-ups are temporary restaurants that operate for a limited time in one place. The Paris pop-up was manned by chefs from Matsuhisa Mykonos, which is only open from June to September. This team also operated a pop-up in Switzerland during winter from December to March, so the Paris pop-up ran during the spring and fall. It was so popular that we were asked to start a permanent restaurant.

  Having failed in Paris once, I was confident that this time around we could succeed. In fact, I had been waiting until the time felt right rather than pushing things. When it comes to ingredients, you can get just about anything in Paris, and the labor market is also very good. In addition, many Parisians like Japan and respect Japanese cuisine. When Nobu Paris opened, the concept of Nobu Style drew much attention. This time, however, I wanted to try something smaller. It seemed to me that the Matsuhisa brand would suit Paris best. Arrangements were made with the Nobu management partners, and Matsuhisa Paris opened in April 2016.

  NOBU DOESN’T BARGAIN

  America is a contract society. This means that negotiating the details in a business contract is really important. Lawyers include clauses covering everything conceivable, even the fact that you might die. The ambiguity so typical of Japanese culture is taboo. In societies like America’s, everything down to the smallest item must be negotiated and incorporated into a contract. To protect Nobu’s brand image, for example, we even specify that we will use original Nobu dishware.

  I have learned a lot about this process from conducting business in many parts of the world. Just because we’ve put things in a contract, however, doesn’t mean that all we have to do is follow e
very clause to the letter. Rather, I see the contract as an outline of the bare minimum required. When my partners and I share ideas and collaborate to make Nobu even better, we build bonds of mutual trust that transcend the realm of sticking to, or deviating from, legal agreements. It’s almost as if there is no contract. This is why it is so important that my partners understand my philosophy regarding food and service, and that I can accept their way of thinking. This is also why, even when I receive offers from big names in the business world, I will turn them down flat if we can’t reach complete agreement. I am quite comfortable doing this because I don’t feel any pressure to accept. I have no desire to push forward with a project about which I have any doubts.

  Once, during a meeting, a business partner spent so much time talking about financial details that I became a bit impatient. “I’m not cheap, you know,” I told him. This was my way of saying that we should be talking about how to make our guests happy. When we spend all our time worrying about money, we lose sight of the smiles on our guests’ faces. He grasped my meaning immediately. “Okay. I get it,” he said with a laugh.

  I don’t like people who take unfair advantage of others, either. The only time I think about money is when considering how much it will cost to do something. I don’t want to waste my energy haggling for better conditions. If I had extra energy for that, I would rather spend it on my guests, which is why I also turn down offers from people who try to bargain.

  Working with people from many countries and types of organizations, I have come to realize that they each have their own way of doing things. No matter how big the project, the best approach is for the people at the top to talk together. They should share their thoughts and ideas with each other frankly, even if it results in a clash of opinions. There is no point in doing business unless it is to succeed. The same is true for a business in which multiple organizations are collaborating: the main goal should be to ensure that the project succeeds. If a business fails because those involved wasted their time and energy asserting their own share or their own rights, it’s because they got their priorities wrong. I have no desire to waste my time guessing my partner’s true intentions or having them probe mine.

  According to the rules of American society, you have to foresee and include within a contract even the minutest details. It is not only a way to protect yourself, it’s a declaration that tells others you’re no pushover and that you won’t let them get away with unreasonable demands. What I want, however, is different. Instead of using a contract as a shield to defend ourselves from each other’s selfishness, instead of insisting on “me, me, me,” I want to invite the other person to work together as “we.” Negotiations should be about understanding the other party’s position while bringing them closer to your own. If we insist only on our own point of view, we will never get anywhere. Even in negotiations, it’s important to ask, “What if I were the other person?”

  Because I have stuck with this approach, people now know that “Nobu doesn’t bargain.” And that makes decision making quick and easy.

  RELATIONSHIPS WHERE 1 + 1 = 100

  In a good partnership, one plus one adds up to a hundred, while a poor partnership can actually result in a minus value. If one or both parties have a bad experience that kills their motivation, one plus one makes even less than two, and it would have been better to have had no partnership at all.

  Sometimes I think I have a sixth sense for spotting people who are fixated on money or are trying to take advantage of me. This keen nose for trouble probably developed during my many years overseas. Communicating with my guests or negotiating was a struggle because I didn’t know the language. Through this process, however, I instinctively developed ways of communicating that didn’t rely on speech alone. Perhaps my internal radar is more sensitive to the meaning that lies behind the words, picking up cues from such things as gestures and facial expressions. If so, it’s a very precious tool.

  When I am planning to open a new restaurant, I always go to the site to check out such things as the availability of ingredients and the location, but a relationship of mutual trust with my partner is far more important than either of these. Take, for example, Nobu Cape Town in South Africa, which is located inside One&Only hotel and has a terrific view of Table Mountain. I first worked with the owner to open Nobu Atlantis, Paradise Island in the Bahamas and Nobu Atlantis in the Palm Jumeirah hotel in Dubai. As both of these were overwhelmingly successful, he then proposed that we open a restaurant in Cape Town, where he was born. The owner of Nobu Budapest, who happens to be the producer of such movies as Rambo and Die Hard with a Vengeance, was originally a regular at Matsuhisa in Los Angeles. For years, he kept telling me that he wanted to open a Nobu in Budapest, Hungary, his hometown. In the end, we did. Many Nobu restaurants around the world were established through such personal connections, a fact that demonstrates how important trust is for me in a business relationship.

  THE GROWTH OF THE NOBU MANAGEMENT TEAM

  The painful experience of having to close Nobu Paris actually strengthened the foundation of our management team, which consists of De Niro, Meir, and me. We have gotten very good at carrying out our individual roles while respecting what the others do. Drew became less involved in management after Nobu London, while Meir, who had only been a silent investment partner when we were developing Nobu New York, gradually took on a central role in negotiating with local partners. His experience as a movie producer makes him a highly skilled negotiator, which requires the ability to juggle many interrelated elements.

  When we get an offer to open a new restaurant, Meir starts off by consulting with the prospective local partner. If he thinks there is a possibility of doing business together, he contacts me, and I meet with the candidate. If I feel that we can understand each other and work together, Meir leads the way in negotiating the license contract. Once the contract has been concluded, I consult with the chief operating officer and corporate chef about personnel and concrete operational details, including which chefs we can send in and who should be promoted to the position of manager. When it comes time to open the new restaurant, De Niro, who is known worldwide, handles the publicity, appearing on television and being interviewed with me.

  IT’S FUN TO WORK WITH PARTNERS WHO HAVE HIGH IDEALS

  Larry Ellison, the cofounder of Oracle Corporation, has been a regular since the early days of Matsuhisa in Los Angeles. He also owns the Nobu Malibu building. Originally, Nobu Malibu was located in a mall, but when Larry bought land along the beach, he suggested that we relocate, and we did.

  Later, I learned that Larry had bought the island of Lanai in Hawaii. He is, after all, one of the wealthiest people in the world. In the fall of 2012, he contacted me to tell me that he wanted to open a Nobu on the island and asked me to come and see him. He sent his private jet to pick up Meir, our chief operating officer, our corporate chef, and me.

  Lanai, which was once a Dole pineapple plantation, currently has a population of around three thousand. It can be reached in just thirty minutes by plane from Oahu and in about forty-five minutes by boat from Maui. Despite its accessibility, however, it retains its natural beauty, and much of the landscape is untouched by development. Four Seasons runs two hotels there: The Lodge at Koele, which is on top of a hill, and The Four Seasons Resort Lanai at Manele Bay, which is located on the coast. We went to see the one on Manele Bay. At that first meeting, we decided the design we wanted, and just six weeks later, in December 2012, the restaurant opened. Sometimes it’s possible to open a restaurant that fast, although I have to admit that this case was exceptional. The timing just happened to be perfect. The opening of Nobu Hotel had been slightly delayed, which meant that we could send dishes and other things intended for that project to Lanai.

  In De Niro’s office with Meir.

  Establishing a Nobu on Lanai was only one part of Larry’s plan. His aim, he explained, was to develop an environmentally friendly and sustainable economic model for the world. He even boug
ht an airline, which he intended to use to increase the number of flights to the island and encourage more visitors to come. Other plans included developing local renewable energy sources and the infrastructure for electric cars. Larry also described his dream of protecting the island’s ecosystem by making shelters for its teeming population of stray cats, and encouraging ecotourism to provide local jobs.

  It was very clear to me that Larry wasn’t interested in development for the sake of short-term profits. Instead, his passion was directed toward high ideals. This made me want to contribute in whatever way I could. I proposed setting up a vegetable garden to grow produce and fish farming facilities to raise fish for the Nobu restaurant. If we produced a surplus, we could start a weekend farmers’ market. It might even be fun to include food stalls.

  Less than half a year after the restaurant opened, we launched Nobu Garden at Bennie’s Farm under the capable leadership of Nobu Lanai’s executive chef at the time, Oyvind Naesheim.

  WHEN A NOBU OPENS, THE TOWN CHANGES

  After choosing a good partner, the next most important thing is choosing the building. I always go to the site myself and look it over very carefully. While I’m there, I imagine what kind of Nobu the place would become. If the image that comes up is a good one, then I’ll take it. I have only my intuition to rely on. I either get a feeling that it will work—or that it won’t. I know it will be a sure success when I can visualize which chefs would do a good job in that particular location and can see the smiling faces of the guests seated inside.

  People often say that when a Nobu opens, the whole town changes. This idea arose from a comment that Madonna made, but I think it’s true. With the establishment of Nobu New York, for example, the run-down warehouse district of Tribeca livened up. When Nobu London opened on Old Park Lane, a street lined with luxury hotels, it raised the level of other Japanese restaurants in the area. Similarly, I have heard that the service in restaurants in the Bahamas improved after we opened a Nobu there. The Bahamas is quite laid-back, and servers usually think nothing of making their customers wait. Nobu’s spirit of thorough service, however, changed what people in the local service industry had once accepted as common practice. One of our London regulars who happened to visit Nobu Atlantis in the Bahamas praised it lavishly the next time he saw me and declared that the service was even better than Nobu London’s. Little did he know that the London manager happened to be right beside me. “You’ve got to be kidding,” the manager muttered, and then lapsed into a stunned silence.