TOKYO — The question of whether to remove yakitori from its skewer has long been a hot topic of debate at Japanese drinking parties. For some, sliding those barbecued chicken morsels off their little wooden spear and onto a plate is an act of courtesy — making it easier to share the food among everyone. For others, eating directly from the skewer feels impolite or uncouth.
But one yakitori restaurant in Tokyo’s Shimbashi district has taken a firm stance on the matter. A bold warning plastered on the wall reads: “If you remove the meat from the skewer, go to a yakiniku restaurant!”, referring to Korean barbecue places. Beneath it, a smaller note adds, “The price will increase every time you remove the meat.” At first glance, it seems like a joke, but the owner is dead serious. And there’s a reason behind this strict policy.
The perfectly calculated skewer
At Shusse Sakaba Daitoryo, customers are greeted with a clear directive: “Please eat directly from the skewer.” When a plate of glistening, tender liver skewers was brought to the table, a staff member reiterated the rule.
Despite its reputation as a “strict” establishment with many rules, the restaurant was nearly full when I visited on a Friday at around 4 p.m. The moment the liver hit the tongue, its rich umami flavor spread throughout the mouth — a testament to the owner’s skill.
On a weekday morning the following week, the shop’s owner, 52-year-old Makoto Sawazaki, was busy preparing for the day’s business. Asked why he insists that customers eat directly from the skewer, Sawazaki responded with a laugh, “Our yakitori is designed to grab your heart with the first bite. Every yakitori shop has its own way of skewering meat — some make the bigger pieces the second bite. But here, the first bite is the biggest because we want our customers to think it’s tasty with the first piece. That’s how we do it. Our yakitori is like me — broad-shouldered and triangular, just like a reverse triangle body shape!”
Sawazaki begins his daily preparations at 5 a.m., with other staff joining him at 8:30. The process continues until early afternoon. His second son, 27-year-old Arashi, helps with the prep, carefully arranging cuts of meat by size before skewering.
“This preparation before skewering the meat is important,” Arashi explained as he lined up the pieces. “If someone pulls the meat off the skewer, all that effort goes to waste.” Once the meat is prepared, Sawazaki expertly skewers it, ensuring everything is in perfect balance.
“The way the meat is cut is key,” Sawazaki emphasized. He explained that each piece is sized to be just large enough to fill the mouth in a single bite, adding, “If the pieces are too small, the flavor isn’t as satisfying.” They calculate everything — the size of the pieces, the order they’re skewered, and how they’re grilled — so that when customers bite into the skewer, they think, “Wow, that’s delicious.”
The controversial “price increases for removing meat” rule is, as Sawazaki put it, “absolutely serious.”
“We put so much effort into preparing these skewers, and then some customers just pull the meat off like it’s nothing. It’s frustrating. For customers who respect the skewer and eat it as intended, we serve them the best cuts of meat. Good customers deserve good meat.”
“No leftovers”
Sawazaki, who worked as a traditional Japanese chef before opening the restaurant 15 years ago, has enforced the “no removing meat from skewers” policy since day one. Over the years, he has added more rules: “No nondrinkers allowed,” “No solo diners” and “Leftovers will be charged at 1,000 yen (about $6) per skewer.”
At the restaurant’s entrance, these rules are clearly displayed. First-time customers are instructed to read them carefully before entering.
“When I say no solo diners, that doesn’t mean groups of two or three are guaranteed entry either,” Sawazaki clarified. “These days, restaurants can afford to choose their customers. If you can’t follow the rules and adapt to the atmosphere, this isn’t the place for you. But for those who can, it’s a comfortable, enjoyable space.”
The “no leftovers” policy, he explained, comes from a respect for the ingredients. “We’re dealing with lives here. It’s important to appreciate that. I want people to think about that as they eat, drink and enjoy themselves.”
(Japanese original by Maki Nakajima, Digital News Group)
