Naoya Kurishita, a former economic journalist, inexplicably writes a lot about alcohol. In this series, Kurishita visits bars that were once favorites of great figures. What kind of drinks did politicians, literary giants, and businessmen drink, what did they talk about, and how did they enjoy their evenings? This is an "adult's bar travelogue" in which he actually visits the establishments, savors the drinks and their history, and catches a glimpse of the daily lives of these great figures.

The third restaurant we'll be visiting is Katsukichi in Suidobashi, a place frequented by literary giants Yukio Mishima and Yasunari Kawabata.

One year of weight training, zero change.

I haven't told anyone, but I've been going to the gym for about a year now. It's a proper gym with a personal trainer. But nobody notices. Maybe it's because I haven't told anyone that nobody says, "Oh, you're working out," but if you think about it, even if you don't tell anyone, if your appearance changes, people will say, "Have you toned up?" If nobody says anything, it means nothing has changed.

In fact, my weight has plateaued, and I haven't gained much muscle. My trainer says that diet is important. He has repeatedly advised me not to drink too much alcohol and to eat more protein. He is absolutely right. He is absolutely right, but I do drink too much alcohol and eat konjac noodles instead of meat.

It might sound like the grumbling of someone nearing old age, not just middle age, but the truth is, someone who hasn't exercised properly for nearly 20 years is already exhausted just from exercising, so even if they're told to "eat protein after exercise," it's pointless. I'd rather not have konjac noodles, let alone protein, and I don't really want to drink protein shakes because I have a sensitive stomach. I'll leave the gulping down eggs from a mug and eating steak after training to the YouTubers. That kind of thing is nothing but performance, isn't it?—or so I thought, until I remembered a certain great man.

It is Yukio Mishima.

A literary giant takes on a barbell.

Mishima began bodybuilding in 1955, when he was 30 years old. Standing at 164 centimeters tall, this slender, intellectual writer gripped barbells as if to say, "What I lack is a physique." Eventually, he began frequenting a gym in Korakuen. It was one of the oldest bodybuilding gyms in Japan, opened in 1953 in a corner of the velodrome. At that time, there was even prejudice that "intellectuals shouldn't be into muscles." Yet, this literary giant, who had been nominated for the Nobel Prize, was sweating profusely, lifting and lowering barbells in Suidobashi.

Mishima would eat meat after his workout. That restaurant is still located in Suidobashi, just a stone's throw from the gym. It's a tonkatsu (pork cutlet) restaurant called "Katsukichi." Work out, walk, eat. It couldn't be any more perfect routine.

An old house that extends underground

Leaving the east exit of JR Suidobashi Station and walking for a few minutes while gazing at Tokyo Dome City across Hakusan Street, you'll find Katsukichi Suidobashi in the basement of a building called Zen Suido Kaikan. If you imagine a chain restaurant-like interior when you hear it's in the basement of a building, you'll be taken aback when you descend the stairs. A space unfolds before you that feels like an entire old house buried underground, surrounded by reclaimed wood and antiques. There are approximately 2,000 antiques on display, including soba cups that cover an entire wall. Even wooden water pipes that were actually used in the Tamagawa Aqueduct are incorporated into the shop's construction. Water pipes in the basement of Suidobashi. It's almost too perfect.

The shop was founded in 1962. The founder, Yoshinosuke Yoshida, grew up in Azumino, Shinshu, graduated from Matsumoto Junior High School (under the old system), returned from Manchuria after the war, and opened this shop after working in antique shops and other places. The shop's antique collection is likely a remnant of his time as an antique shop owner.

On a weekday evening, I started with a highball. I hadn't done any weight training, but I had walked about ten minutes from Tokyo Metro Korakuen Station (not Suidobashi Station) to get here, so you could say I'd exercised a bit. I took a big gulp of the drink that was brought to me, and it was strong. So strong I almost choked. Let me be clear, I didn't ask for it to be extra strong. Even as the leader of the Japanese Highball Party, I don't often encounter a highball this strong when ordered normally. This tonkatsu restaurant is quite a character.

Opening the menu, I was surprised to find that despite being a tonkatsu (pork cutlet) restaurant, they also offered steak, hamburgers, and seasonal fish—a wider range than I'd expected. Since a strong highball requires some quick appetizers, I opted for the sashimi platter. For the meat dish, after much deliberation, I chose the large "Matsu" platter. It included pork fillet cutlet, extra-large natural shrimp tempura, shrimp cutlet, and even steak from Mishima—all on one plate. It's a dish that showcases all the restaurant's specialties. It's such a protein-packed feast I wanted to show it to my trainer!

The man who replaced demi-glace with soy sauce

This restaurant's steak has an anecdote involving Mishima. The sauce was originally demi-glace. However, at Mishima's suggestion, it was changed to a soy sauce base, and that flavor has been passed down to the present day. A classic Western-style sauce was changed to a Japanese flavor at the suggestion of a regular customer, and that change has been maintained for over half a century. The customer who made the suggestion is one thing, but the restaurant that accepted the challenge is another. After frequenting the restaurant with a well-trained body, he even managed to change the signature flavor of the restaurant. You could say this is the pinnacle of a regular customer's dedication.

Mishima wasn't the only regular customer. Yasunari Kawabata, who was close to the founder Yoshinosuke, also loved the food at this restaurant. Incidentally, in 1956, shortly after he started bodybuilding, Mishima placed an advertisement in the newly launched "Shukan Shincho" magazine seeking fellow bodybuilders. The condition was "only slender novelists." He even wrote that he wanted Yasunari Kawabata to be the chairman. At the time, Mishima was the only member. So, the man who tried to get a future Nobel Prize-winning author to be the chairman of his weight training club, and the man who almost got the position, both became regulars at the same tonkatsu restaurant.

However, the anecdotes surrounding this restaurant aren't limited to those involving famous writers. There's also a story about the founder who, when a customer who had lost all his money at the nearby velodrome showed up with his child, silently fed him. They serve equally delicious food to both literary giants and the penniless. It's a great restaurant.

Pork cutlet that can be cut with chopsticks, and soy sauce steak

Soon, a magnificent platter arrived. Several kinds of cutlets were lined up, with a few slices of soy sauce-flavored steak beside them. Served on an antique plate, it sat there with a cool air. I reached for the steak first. The savory aroma of soy sauce filled my nose. Although it looked like Western food, the core of its flavor was definitely meant to be eaten with white rice. Indeed, Mishima was right. It was a flavor that could stand up to a strong highball, but it also made me want to gobble down some white rice. However, apparently eating too much white rice is bad for muscle training. I'm not exactly in a position to worry about that anymore, but I still didn't order any white rice. I can't help but wonder why I'm sticking to that principle when I'm drinking plenty of alcohol.

Next up is the tonkatsu. Katsukichi's tonkatsu is fried slowly in low-temperature oil, almost like simmering, for over twenty minutes. Impatient people shouldn't order it. On the other hand, the tonkatsu that comes out can be cut with chopsticks. The batter is crispy, and the meat inside is fluffy and sweet. Since it's a mixed plate, each piece has a different appearance, and the slowly cooked meat melts in your mouth—writing this makes me sound like a food connoisseur, but in reality, I'm just eating so intently that I don't really know if it's melting or if I'm biting it. All I do know is that it's delicious, and while the sauce is good, salt brings out the sweetness of the meat better. And the highball is as strong as ever, but before I know it, I'm on my third glass. Three glasses of that strength. I haven't been working out, but protein and alcohol are steadily being consumed.

Mishima would eat meat here after his workout. Exercise and nutrition. Logically, it makes perfect sense. I won't write about where his passion eventually led him, as this is a series about alcohol. However, eating katsu surrounded by antiques in the basement, it's not hard to imagine the literary giant descending the stairs with his barbells down.

When I left the shop, it was already dark. Across Hakusan Street, the lights of Tokyo Dome City twinkled. That's where the gym Mishima used to go to used to be. The gym and the velodrome are long gone. Now it's a city of entertainment with a Ferris wheel. Yet, on this side of the street, Katsukichi is still frying pork cutlets, just as it was half a century ago. The literary giant ate it after working out. I just ate it. I feel like it's not really a matter of order, but at least it's an improvement over konjac noodles.

As an aside, the next day when I ordered a highball at a different bar, I thought it was water. No, it's not the bar's fault. It's just that the one I had at Katsukichi had become my standard, and it was probably just a normal strength, but that night I ended up repeatedly saying, "Make it stronger," and "Excuse me, make it even stronger." I never thought a tonkatsu restaurant would mess up my standards for alcohol. Suidobashi is truly formidable. Or maybe not.

Today's recommendation

Large platter serving of pine-colored pine (for 2 people)
Includes domestic brand pork fillet cutlet, extra-large natural shrimp tempura, shrimp cutlet, Wagyu beef fillet steak, etc. 6,700 yen

Assorted sashimi (three kinds): 1,480 yen

Mount Fuji Foothills (Highball) 500 yen

Shop information

Katsukichi Suidobashi Store

Address: B1, Zen Suido Kaikan Building, 1-4-1 Hongo, Bunkyo-ku, Tokyo
Phone: 03-3812-6268
営業時間：平日11:00～15:30／17:00～22:30、土11:00～22:30、日祝11:00～22:00
*Please note that business hours and prices may change, so please contact the store for details.

Access: Approximately 1 minute walk from Exit A1 of Suidobashi Station on the Toei Mita Line.
JR Sobu Line, Suidobashi Station, East Exit, approximately 3 minutes on foot.

Naoya Kurishita

Born in 1980 in Tokyo, he is a writer and book reviewer. After completing his studies in business administration at the Graduate School of International Social Sciences, Yokohama National University, he worked for a specialist magazine before becoming independent. Although he started out as an economic journalist, he somehow writes a lot about alcohol. His books include "What I Learned About Life from Getting Drunk" (Sayusha), "How Great People Survive: Side Hustles, Job Changes, Financial Strategies, and Begging" (ibid.), "The Drinking Habits of Politicians: The Drinkers Who Moved the World" (Heibonsha Shinsho), and "Profit and Virtue" (CE Media House).