Does anyone find Publika confusing? Yeah, I’ve frequented the place enough during the early days of Barfly when the RM10 pints of Tiger had more beer than water. Yet I’m still unable to come to grips with the confusing layout of different blocks and oddly numbered floors. Why is UG in between G2 and G3? Why are the al fresco areas of Blocks A and B on a different level from C and D? Why is the carpark so labyrinthine in structure that Theseus would wish he was back in the Minotaur’s lair? Geez.
And so we found ourselves in Publika for yet another food review.
Tsubohachi Izakaya started off in Hokkaido and is now a large izakaya chain with over 300 outlets in Japan alone. An izakaya is an informal Japanese gastropub where hardworking salarymen gather after work for food and drink in a casual atmosphere. Much like Malaysians have our mamak culture, the Japanese default to cold beers and sake while the smell of yakitori on charcoal wafts into the air.
Stepping into Tsubohachi, the decor gives off a very Japanese vibe, all dark wood, Maneki-neko (that smiling waving cat) and samurai art. These hit me with a wave of nostalgia, reminding me of the Japanese restaurants I grew up with when I was but a chubby lad. But anyways, onto the food.
Our meal kicks off with some Gobo Chips. These are thinly sliced strips of burdock root, deep fried to a nice crispy texture. Apparently a very popular bar snack in Japan, it’s not hard to see why. The chips have a tinge of sweetness about them which contrasts nicely with the salt. An underlying earthiness provides a good foundation for the flavours to mingle. Best paired with a nice glass of Suntory Premium Malts or a not-so-modest pouring of sake. Shame they don’t do free refills.
A chirashi bowl follows suit. Finely diced air-flown salmon is accompanied by cubes of avocado atop a bed of fluffy rice. Ubiquitous in most modern restaurants, a tale of two ingredients that seem practically made for each other. Japanese cucumber provides a nice textural crunch to contrast with the soft richness of the avo and salmon with some shredded egg thrown in for good measure. Good, satisfying rice bowl though a minor gripe would be that the avocado was slightly on the wrong side of ripe.
The kushimare plate arrives smelling of charcoal. To start with, a skewered chicken wing has good flavour but suffers from being a bit dry, lacking juiciness. Crispy chicken perks things up a little with a sinful savoury salty hit to the palate. The bacon wrapped enoki mushrooms further one-ups the umami because bacon makes everything better (except heart disease). We hit a slight speed bump with the negima (chicken thigh and leek) in a curious role reversal where the thigh is plump and juicy but underseasoned. The best skewer of the night was the pork belly and leek, the fat well-rendered and kissed by charcoal, melting in the mouth.
Unfortunately, we hit a big speed bump with the teriyaki fish roll. Described as a duo of maguro and buri rolled into a maki with teriyaki sauce, it was cloyingly sweet. The flavours of the fish drowned in by an overgenerous pouring of sauce. The rice here was mush and the roll lacked any sort of texture. What do you think, Simon? No, no, no, NO. Not for me, Paula. I’m not feeling it either, dawg. Back to the drawing board.
In comes bacon once again to save the day. Wrapping itself around its able sidekick, mozzarella cheese, bacon is then coated in panko breadcrumbs and deep fried. The result is a nice little croquette with a crisp exterior and a molten gooey centre. Could have used another skewer of these. Maybe 4. The chikuwa mentai kushi-age (Japanese fish cake and cod roe) has much of the same toothsome bite as its porcine cousin but was relatively non-descript. The fish cake itself tasted alright but didn’t do much to stand out. Neither could we taste the cod roe which is a damn shame. If you haven’t had mentai over hot steamed rice, you are sorely missing out.
At this point, the meal starts drifting away from the cholesterol overload and into more delicate territory.
Tsubohachi’s signature is Buta Hakusai Nabe. Thin slices of pork belly are hidden in the layers of a cabbage millefeuille and stewed. Unlike the first half of the meal, the flavours here are more subtle with emphasis put on the balance and harmony of taste. The savoury, tender slices of belly are balanced out by the inherent sweetness of the cabbage which in turn has imparted its flavour into the broth. Almost zenlike. Tsubohachi’s menu description helpfully points out that a nice porridge can be made by adding a bowl of rice to the broth but we decided to leave some room for the remaining dishes.
Next up, the Chanko Nabe. The yin to the Buta Hakusai’s yang, the main protein in this case being chicken cooked in a claypot. We see our friend, gobo (burdock root), from the beginning of the meal make a return, this time lending a herbal earthiness to the stew. Reminiscent of Chinese herbal chicken, this was a bowl of soothing familiar.
Things take a slightly Korean bent with the Ontama Buta Kimchi. Although more often associated with their neighbours, Korea, the Japanese too are fond of their pickled vege. A sizzling teppan arrives on the table, filling the air with the unmistakable aroma of fermented cabbage, tickling the salivary glands. More pork belly (no complaints here) is stir fried along with the kimchi topped by the crowning glory of a spring egg. The folks as Tsubohachi are clear believers in freedom of choice as the menu notes that one can either enjoy the sauce made from the runny yolk or let it crisp up in the teppan for a fried egg. Being yolk fiends that we are, we not-so-gently break the yolk up and mix everything together. The kimchi spice cuts through the belly fat while the yolk is a rich sauce that coats each mouthful with eggy goodness.
Inspired by icy mountain water flowing through bamboo pipes, a circulating ice bath adds a bit of theatre to our meal. A trio of noodles: soba, chasoba and somen are the main elements of Tsubohachi’s Nagashi Somen Setto. Diners have a choice of dipping their noodles in the ice bath to give them a good icy shock for that nice bite or dumping them inside to try and fish them out. Needless to say the whole affair soon descended into a flurry of chopsticks and laughter. A side of ebi tempura, freshly fried, provided a good contrast with their crunchy batter. Mixed fruits served as a nice palate cleanser and segue into the final part of the meal.
Suton Aisu, a Japanisation of Stone Ice Cream, is a brightly coloured thing. Frozen berries catch the eye in vivid shades of red atop a scoop of vanilla ice-cream. We again follow the instructions on the menu and crush the butter biscuits against the walls of the stone bowl before mixing everything up into something a bit like an Eton Mess. The sweet acidity from the berries here heightened the richness of the vanilla ice cream while the biscuits added a good crunch. A real good mix of flavour and texture and a great way to end the meal.
Overall, our meal at Tsubohachi was a satisfying one. Simple, izakaya style fare that is fuss-free in a cozy environment. Not to mention the value to be had at this price point. Well worth skipping the queues at other more famous (and extremely average) Japanese restaurant chains in the Klang Valley. Till next time! Now, where did I park my car…
Tsubohachi Izakaya
A2-UG1-9 Solaris Dutaamas,
No 1 Jalan Dutamas,
Jalan Solaris,
50480 Hartamas Heights,
Kuala Lumpur
P.S. Want to see our latest on-the-go updates and preview of places before our full blog posts go up? Follow us on Instagram at @foodgazerrr or on our Facebook page!