With two shabu shabu joints opening just blocks from each other in Allston in the last few months, it seemed high time to finally give this Japanese hot pot thing a try. So last Thursday night, famished after a long day at work, we dove into the pan-Asian experience that is Brighton Avenue to visit Shabu Shabu Toki.
Inside, steam was rising from pots of broth bubbling away at each table, and Yao Ming silently played basketball on two flat-screen TVs high above the dining room. A guy at the next table droned on about the distinction between Eastern and Western sumo houses, but aside from that, the only sounds were jazz playing quietly on the stereo (with "Mamas Don't Let Your Babies Grow up to Be Cowboys" inexplicably thrown in the mix) and diners murmuring as they whisked their chopsticks through the boiling liquid in front of them. It was a soothing environment, accentuated by red-backed chairs, mirrors, and sand-textured walls with wavy lines - but not so soothing that we forgot how hungry we were.
First up: firm, salty edamame and shrimp dumplings so soft that teeth were unnecessary, followed by scalding hot pieces of deep-fried chicken, beef and scallion skewers, bacon-y black pork belly wrapped around asparagus spears, and a pile of crispy quail legs so tiny it almost seemed criminal to eat them.
We could have dined all night on the other interesting appetizers: fried oysters; skewers of chicken gizzards and hearts; beef tongue - sauteed or raw with white truffle oil - but we had to save room for the hot pot.
Soon, trays of beautifully arranged raw meats and vegetables began to take over the table. The blue fin tuna, sliced flat and thin, occupied its own large platter, as did the short ribs, sliced slightly less thin and rolled into neat red tubes. We each got a long dish of cabbage, carrots, mushrooms, scallions, and watercress, accompanied by a square of tofu and tofu skin topped with a pink, spongy flower made of rice flour. Ponzu, sesame, and ginger sauces arrived for the dipping, as did little cups of chopped garlic, chilies, scallions, and radishes. It was almost too beautiful to eat. But somehow we managed.
The executive chef is Toru Oga, who owns a sushi restaurant in Natick and consults at Sushi Teq in the InterContinental Hotel. Needless to say, Shabu Shabu Toki will be adding sushi to the menu soon.
The waitress brought a pot divided in two, Japanese broth on one side and Korean on the other, and turned on the heating element built into the table. Before long the liquid was boiling - we just weren't really sure what to do with it. My dining companion dumped everything into his broth at once: cabbage, carrots, mushrooms, udon noodles, then beef, to create a bubbling soup. I preferred to dunk each bite separately: Beef barely cooked in Korean broth, then dipped in ponzu sauce and Japanese chilies with citrus. Tuna in the Japanese broth, ponzu sauce, and scallion. Yum. Every new combination was light, fresh, and bursting with flavor - but hard to replicate if you didn't pay close attention.
Finally our waitress came back and taught us the proper technique for dragging our meat-laden chopsticks back and forth through the boiling broth. This motion is known as shabu shabu, or "swish-swish," the manager told us later; "toki" means time. She also told us that shabu shabu started in the 13th century, when Genghis Khan's warriors cooked dinner right in their helmets.
I'm glad they've refined the experience since then. In fact, Shabu Shabu Toki would be a good place for a first date. You have something to do, which gives you something to talk about, and the steam rising between you is kind of romantic. And if all else fails, there are 15 kinds of sake on the menu.
Shabu Shabu Toki, 121 Brighton Ave., Allston. 617-254-8888. Entrees $11-$49. Wine by the glass $4-$8.
