Jeff W. Richards

Don’t be fooled by the sliding Japanese shori doors at the front—inside, the Monty’s all public house. The bar counter offers six taps which owner Clive will happily tell you about. Beers don’t rise above ¥1,000 for a pint, and come in middy- (¥800) and half-sizes (¥600). On offer are the likes of Belhaven Twisted Thistle IPA and Old Speckled Hen. I couldn’t help treat myself to guest beer the Rogue Breweries Dry Hopped Saint Rogue Red Ale. A deep copper with plenty of hops upfront, it never veered into overly bitter territory. Its effervescence made a delightful change from flatter ales (I’m looking at you Speckled Hen…). The guest tap changes regularly, so you’ll need to hurry to try that one.

Carlsberg is around for the non-ale-minded (¥850/¥650/¥500), along with bottles (including old standby Newcastle Brown), and ciders (Weston Old Rosie Scrumpy among others). An ever-growing selection of single malts (ask Clive about the 34-year-old Tomatin Liquid Sun) sits alongside the usual suspects.

What has always set The Full Monty apart has been its food. Clive and his partner Kae still regularly cook up the standout dish of vindaloo curry, but you can always count on one of the daily pies. Pies and chips (or mash) are brazenly proportioned for ¥1,200, and perfect for burning off the chill. The steak-and-kidney is chopped steak and generous kidney pieces in a gravy of goodness that both the fresh-made fries and the thick, flaky crust do their best to sop up.

Of course there is also the national dish of fish and chips, which starts at ¥700 for one piece. Breakfast lasts all day here: a half-size English is ¥1,200 while the regular will set you back ¥1,900. Or, if you can’t decide, just order up the—you guessed it—“Full Monty” for ¥1,200 and put that busy brain of yours on hold. Also on the burner: chicken and chips, bangers and mash, curries, kebabs and quiche from ¥700-¥1,200.

Clive still makes sure that footy’s on the large screen and the tunes keep punters on the bar stools, so there’s always something to natter about if you rock up alone. Free Wi-Fi enables a quick gathering of the troops for a good old fashioned pub night in Yokohama.

Courtesy of White Smoke

To find the restaurant, point your proboscis downhill from Azabu Tsutaya and you’ll pick up the scent. The menu is short and simple, with the stellar choice the Lone Star Beef Brisket (¥3,500 L/¥1,700 S). The cow’s breast meat is smoked for up to 15 hours in a custom-designed wrought iron pit. Sealed with a pepper-and-salt rub during cooking, the crust holds in the fatty juices and breaks down the collagen to produce a cut that must be tasted to be believed.

If you are carrying your A-game with your carnivorous A-type personality, try the Big-D Dinosaur Ribs. Not your pantywaist little pork ribs slathered in a too-sweet sauce, these are grade-A beef short ribs reminiscent of The Flintstones. Again, no sauce (Craig serves his dry, simply spiced sauce on the side—though like all good foodies, he will ask you to try before you douse it on). The ribs bring out one’s primal nature, and we (well, I… ) happily hew them in my fists and tear the tender meat from the bone with my teeth. Shredded pieces will get stuck in your pearly whites, but for those craving caveman-style viands in a country of generally over- or under-cooked strips of sad sirloin or yakiniku, it is a satisfying experience.

Other options are the smoked cheeseburger (¥1,900), plus other meats given the low, slow treatment in White’s smoker: “ham style” belly roll (¥1,600) and smoked chicken and turkey breast (each from ¥1,500). The turkey breast is served naked with just a little gravy I could have done without—the bird’s natural flavor comes out smoky good all by its lonesome when cooked in this traditional Texas style.

The drinks menu is equally bold. Classic pre-prohibition cocktails like the cognac-and-orange Side Car, and the old-fashioned Old Fashioned (from ¥1,100) sit aside premium anejo tequilas like Corazon de Agave (¥1,700) and El Conde Azul (¥2,500). A selection of bottled beers such as Red Rocket Ale and Shiga Kogen Pale Ale (both ¥950) round out the libations.

If cravings haven’t yet been sated, the coup de grâce will no doubt be the pecan pie. Just like Mom used to bake—except not so cloyingly sweet and syrupy. Then, down a shot of espresso and call it a night. Just like real men do.

Courtesy of Good Beer Faucets

It’s perhaps unfair to judge a bar after three days of operation. But clutch your hats, dear readers: we had to send back a beer.

Though facing competition from stalwarts Craftheads and Baird Taproom, the latest craft-beer bar, Goodbeer Faucets comes with a pedigree—it is owned by the Goodbeer Club, which sells premium beer at goodbeer.jp. Expectations were high.

The setup is nice: a smoke-free interior (a respite in hazy Shibuya), counter space and windows, and a minimal decor. We found hints, however, that form had been chosen over function: the stylish stools were uncomfortable, and the tap system was not adequately cooled.

The menu was underwhelming. Though consisting of 42 pours, one-third was Baird’s entire lineup and the remainder was dominated by trendy hoppy brews, like Ballast Point Sculpin and BrewDog.

We skipped the food—Ibérico ham (¥500), goat-cheese salad (¥1,200)—and ordered Left Coast Trestles IPA (previously enjoyed at Craftheads) and BrewDog Chaos Theory (first tasting). Both were ¥1,100 for 400ml—a 200ml glass is usually about ¥750. The beers arrived separately, thanks to a German-style pouring technique plus some extraneous technology used by the waiters, who delivered orders to the bar via iPod Touch.

Thus, the Trestles came warmish. Most Indian Pale Ales can be served “cellar” temperature (12-14ºC), though you’ll often get them cooler from tap or bottle. US-style IPAs are best at slightly cooler (7-10 ºC), as they are often hop-heavy with a thinner body. Here, the ale had to be chugged down in two minutes or it became undrinkable.

The Chaos Theory was interesting, but a bit too heavy on the Simcoe hop for me. Again, it was undermined by treacly warmth; a bit colder, and it might have been earthily fragrant. It was a struggle to finish the pint.

At this point, we should have switched to heavier beers, best served warmer. There was an Imperial Red Ale on tap, as well as some stouts. Instead, we mistakenly opted for Shiroyama’s Lemongrass Ale, remembered as a slightly sweet, herbal beer, and of a lighter persuasion. After several minutes, during which the ale was spied warming up on the counter, it arrived. After the first unpleasant tepid sip we sent it back and asked for the check.

Our server graciously removed the last beer from our check, while explaining that the beer was warm because “we don’t chill our glasses here, unlike other bars.” Still, we were urged to return, and the problems would be fixed. Let’s hope so, as Goodbeer Faucets could offer a smoke-free break from Shibuya’s buzz.

Courtesy of Ivy Place

Ivy Place’s aspiration is to be a bit of everything—from breakfast spot to late-night dining locale. The building itself, part of the new T-Site complex [for more on T-Site Daikanyama, see p.8—Eds], is split into café, bar and dining sections, with a terrace on each. It somehow combines modern and classic, with its sloping roofs, glass doors, stucco walls and wood accents, and fits T-Site’s vibe of understated luxury.

Inside, designer Kenichi Nagasaki has gone for natural wood and shades of beige, with Scandinavian-esque furnishings. The bland monotone palette was livened by a few nice touches, such as wrought-iron lanterns and sconces. Either natural daylight, or the orange-hued bulbs used at night, suffuse the place with a dynamic atmosphere.

On our visit, we ended up in the café, next to the patio door, as the place was packed. The opening of the door behind was distracting, and I was surprised such a layout was allowed, given T.Y. Express’s usual attention to detail. During the warmer months when that wall opens to the outside, it won’t be an issue. In the meantime—reservations, people!

Chef Ryohei Kobayashi’s menu, however, was just what I’ve come to expect: delicious choices, a few happy surprises and good value. As a starter, we tried the shiitake and smoked Gouda fritters (¥900)—mild, yet full of flavor. Next came the flatbread pizza with ricotta, semi-dried tomato, roasted garlic, anchovy and basil (¥1,400)—with a hearty wholewheat crust. Fans of sister restaurant Breadworks will be happy to know it supplies the bread items.

Naturally, T.Y. Harbor-brewed beers are on offer. The wine list is worth a look, as there are a few varieties available by the glass or carafe. The Yamanashi domestics in particular caught my eye, but in the end, I settled on a tart Reisling by Karl Scheafer (¥1,200). Our server was not very knowledgeable about the wines and told us they didn’t have any port, though there are three on the bar menu. Given T.Y.’s usual standards, perhaps it’s just growing pains.

For dessert, the chai crème brulee (¥900) and mango pudding with coconut cream (¥900) vied for my attention until I broke down and got both—and had no regrets. All told, my companion and I whiled away several pleasant hours enjoying the food, conversation and late-afternoon sun, so despite a few discordant notes, I’ll be back for another leisurely meal next time I’m in Daikanyama.

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