I closed my eyes as I extracted every ounce of visceral pleasure masticating the billowy, succulent morsel of Kobe beef, my lips anointed from the marbled unctuosity. Wagyu always elicited a dramatic response from me, but for this particular experience at Japanese BBQ Yoshi, the absence of visual distractions slightly heightened my senses of smell, taste and touch—or at least, that is what I convinced myself to believe—enabling me to fully savor some of the remaining portions of certified Kobe found in Hawai‘i.

I admit, after committing to do a tasting of Kobe beef acquired from the recently shuttered Teppanyaki Ginza Onodera, I felt as though I downed a bigeminal cocktail of elation garnished with a sprig of anxiety. While I did not consider myself culinarily handicapped, my track record at yakiniku restaurants was comprised of a number of mishaps involving me congregating with friends or family, engrossed in conversation and oblivious to the smoldering plumes of smoke that engulfed piles of neglected marinade-cloaked meats that I loaded up on a char-crusted grill of burnt soy. Hence, entrusting me with searing a parcel of highly coveted Japanese Black cattle seemed all too sacrilegious, if not improvident. Fortunately, the staff at Japanese BBQ Yoshi offered to grill each segment of wagyu individually right at my table, as if I had a personal valet practically spoon-feeding me bites, delivering me to the sybaritic gates of meat heaven.

Reflecting on the attentive service coupled with the luxuriant cuts of beef, I thought at first that this establishment represented something too antithetical to the humble origins of yakiniku. But then, I contradicted myself with the hypothesis that each stage in the evolution of Japanese barbecue seemed increasingly portent to its upscale progression. The term yakiniku was initially used to refer to Western barbecue as introduced to Japan during the Meiji period (circa 1868–1912), the era that ended the country’s 250 years of self-imposed isolation. During this watershed moment, Japan inaugurated its effort to become an international power, and opened Osaka and Kobe as international ports of trade, subsequently lifting the ban on beef consumption by order of the emperor. It was not until after World War II, though, that yakiniku became more categorically associated with Korean cuisine. Resourceful transplants residing in a post-war Japan plagued with food shortages collected horumon (beef and pork offals which were often discarded by the Japanese) and opened food stalls serving the grilled proteins. These horumon-yaki establishments began to flourish, advertised among immigrants as serving flavors of Joseon (the name used to refer to Korea prior to the division of the peninsula) before expanding its appeal to a larger domestic audience with the inclusion of loin, short ribs and other higher quality cuts of meats. Throughout the late 1950s and through the 1960s, the use of sauces further contributed to an upsurge, giving rise to the tsuke-dare (or dipping sauce) culture that is representative of the contemporary yakiniku experience. Unlike in Hawai‘i, where the scene is mostly comprised of a continuum of affordable grilleries with the social dining aspect being paramount, in Japan, a prevalent number of stately establishments along the lines of Hachiyama or Jojoen Yugentei and humble taverns such as Satobriand emerged, focusing on the appreciation of refined ingredients and exceptional preparations.

Japanese BBQ Yoshi is archetypical of that elevated Japanese approach, showcasing slices of wagyu, washugyu (Japanese-style U.S. wagyu, a crossbreed between American Black Angus females and Japanese Tajima sires), and U.S. Prime lightly brushed with sake and garlic, allowing for the optimal appreciation of the beef’s natural flavors, be it ribeye, kalbi short rib, anchan (or nakao-chi kalbi, the meat nestled between rib bones that are slightly tougher than kalbi but still rich in umami), bolder-flavored harami (skirt steak), beef tripe, horumon or beef tongue. What makes an experience at Yoshi tough to parallel are the scarcer discoveries, like kaburi (ribeye cap, considered to be the most tender and flavorful cut), misuji (tender, leaf-shaped cut taken from the chuck primal and sometimes labeled as flatiron steak), nodomoto (highly coveted, back-of-the-tongue cuts that are extremely tender and fatty), and tokusei tongue (obtained from the same part as nodomoto but sliced thin for those who appreciate the slightly crunchy, chewy qualities), all roasted evenly over a smoke-mitigating infrared grill. Menu selections also encompass chicken, shrimp, squid, Hokkaido scallops and kurobuta (Berkshire black pork from Canada), some of which are seasoned with ginger, garlic butter, miso butter, or other accents. A trio of dipping sauces—amadare (sweet soy), ponzu with daikon oroshi (grated Chinese radish), and sesame oil with salt and pepper—are served to offer salvation to those who seek a lacquer of seasoning, though I recommend asking for the kizami wasabi which is tempered in its nasal pungency and a complementary condiment to just about everything, including a shoe.

With social distancing and travel challenges continuing to beleaguer our culinary adventures, splurging on a celebratory yakiniku experience with a significant other may be the appropriate panacea for these depressed times. Being able to savor the buttery yet meaty qualities of Kobe and other superior grades of beef without the hassle of international travel may just be a complimentary shuttle ride away, that is if you live within a 5-mile radius of Japanese BBQ Yoshi. Besides, there may be only enough filets left from Japan’s finest Tajima cattle to last through the end of the year, before they become part of Hawai‘i’s yakiniku history.

Japanese BBQ Yoshi, 1316 Young St., (808) 773-7013, japanesebbq-yoshi.com