chotto: Japanese Breakfast on Smith Street, Fitzroy

photo credit chotto High Harvard Wang

Fitzroy has recently become one of my favourite inner-city suburbs of Melbourne. It’s very…Melburnian in its composition; a neat grid runs off of an arterial street, with dainty cafes and ballsy independent fashion shops lining Brunswick Street. There is a clear bohemian vibe osmosing through this part of town, famous for its street art and music. It is home to the Messina gelateria, Proud Mary Coffee and, the kings of the Cruffin, Lune croissanterie. We park outside an artist supplier; a window display of ultramarine kangaroos and paint pigments entice the miniature painter in me to enter and have a browse. Needless to say, I haven’t left empty handed.

chotto is where my dining companions tell me some of the best Japanese brunch is available. It is closer to one than it is to noon at this point. We enter the dining room to find two large dining tables, square in shape. These sharing spaces are surrounded by tidy wooden stools and backed with a plain plywood window bench for those waiting. The room, overall, looks like a minimalist’s idea of what an IKEA showroom should look like; it’s functional and has little in the way of artistic design, save for a driftwood and orchid arrangement in the centre of the table. Overall it is less of a restaurant and more of a white box in which food is served.

An angelic server of ethereal beauty descends on silent feet to show us to our portion of tableside real estate. We huddle ourselves comfortably around a corner and survey the menu; I am offered a beverage, opting for my usual batch brew by which I’ve begun to compare local caffeinated liquids. There are a few bean options available, which the server explains in delightfully broken English. I opt for a Colombian over a Rwandan on this occasion. No reasoning behind it; maybe because it is cheaper? There is a point where Hario V60 filtered coffee runs into diminishing returns anyway. My companions order a pea-green matcha latte and Japanese green tea infused with roasted rice. The latte looks outstanding, with green matcha flecks decorating the white foam like a laurel wreath upon the head of a Grecian hero. A customer’s fishing-port Scottish accent brings back memories of a friend from Pittenweem. These are, however, not necessarily the images you automatically conjure up when you’re in Australia…eating Japanese food. It all seems a bit alien.

The menu structure is fairly similar to the majority of brunch places, with a couple of surprises thrown in for good measure. There are three “set” meals to the left, with more varied options to the right. A fish collar sounds interesting enough for me to take a punt, so I order it as a side to my charred kingfish set. I hear a couple of ladies asking about the fish collar and, allegedly, they are always sold out. Sides range from sashimi to green salad; more fish makes its way to my order, along with an attractive-sounding cod roe and potato salad.

When the food arrives I see a colourful assortment of sashimi, glistening with freshness, settled on a fuchsia-coloured mound of shredded radish. Japanese rolled omelette sits to the right, with a pedestrian scoop of potato salad next to it. There’s a pink tinge to the potato salad, probably from the cod roe and orange from delicate strands of shredded carrot. Two strips of smoked nori line the plate, on which sits the charred kingfish fillet. The server deploys three steaming bowls of miso soup, the convection current sweeping the fermented bean particles in an organically moving orb beneath a crystal clear amber consommé. Snow white steamed rice sits in a separate bowl, a canvas for the medium of fish. Finally, the fish collar descends upon us.

The collar is an unusual cut; it seems to incorporate all my favourite parts of the fish. It has the dense - yet delicate - shoulder muscle, the collagen-rich pectoral fins and the start of the belly, down to the breast. I can hear some readers now - “What the f*** is Ben on about? Fish don’t have shoulders, or breasts.” Bear with me! If you transplant (probably not a helpful term in this case) the anatomy of a human onto the fish, it has the characteristics of the shoulder and breast. It also has an arm/fin-pit which is equally delicious.

Tamago kake gohan: eaten on a separate occasion

The charred fillet itself is, unfortunately, a bit perfunctory. It is marginally overcooked, dry, and the semi-fatty goodness that usually runs from under the skin layer and through the bloodline just isn’t there. The sashimi is delicate and has nutty notes as you bite into it. The chef has blowtorched the skin of the fish to create a charred exterior but a perfectly raw centre; this is – in my opinion – inspired and should be replicated everywhere that doesn’t mind being labelled as non-traditional or a sashimi heretic. My local sushi grandmaster is rolling his eyes at me as I type this. The omelette is soft and acts as a mildly sweet vehicle with which to transmit the flavour of soy sauce from the jug to your mouth. I thought the potato salad could have packed a bit more punch. The incorporated cod roe held so much promise in the description but it turned out just a bit eggy for me. What more could I have expected from potato with fish eggs in it? Silly me.

The fish collar turns out to be from the same kingfish as the charred fillet; it is tremendously rich in places and wonderfully delicate in others. This is the reason why I love these lesser known cuts - whilst fillets can dry out, bone-in cuts will retain moisture and fattiness a lot better than flesh off of the bone. I deftly strip the shoulder (I’m running with this now, and I’ll do a full breakdown in a tutorial on here soon so you know what the hell I mean by “fish breast”) with a pair of chopsticks and fold the delicate flakes into my spoon. The first mouthful reminds me of the steamed seabass/bream my Mum cooks from time to time and the flesh dissipates on the tongue. I pluck the fins next and leave the collagen-rich goodness to seep into the miso soup, adding another layer of the fabled ‘Umami’. The sockets are still coated with the translucent gelatine and it has permeated the fish surrounding it. The muscles here are well formed and, as the kingfish is a notoriously lean fish anyway, benefit from the extra fattiness from the fins. The breast itself is as tender as you like; the meat is easily flaked and I mix this in with the rice. The muscle here is underused, as the majority of usage in that area comes from groups nearer to the pectoral fins themselves. This little secure nook often gets overlooked by the majority of fish eaters unless, like me, they are willing to put in the effort to strip the entire carcass from nose to tail – cheek, tongue, throat, forehead and all. Again, I am nothing if not a greedy bastard.

photo credit chotto High Harvard Wang

It is a meal of two halves, for me. The humble surroundings don’t detract from the enjoyment of the food, in fact the whitewashed walls serve to bring more focus on the colours in front of you. Green matcha pops and the magenta highlights amongst the shredded radish contrasts vibrantly with the bare pine tabletop and the pristine white plasterwork. The main star of the meal, being the grilled kingfish fillet, is a bit of a placeholder when you have a hunk of fish collar to be dealing with. In hindsight, a build-your-own breakfast using collar, rice and condiments would have been a better choice, but then I couldn’t ward you off going for the “easier option” of a set breakfast. The potato salad is slightly underwhelming for something I had high hopes up for. It was just too eggy for a substance that didn’t have any (in the traditional sense of the word) eggs in it. The true star of the show has to be the collar. In one cut of an animal, there is clear definition of muscle groups. With each bite you taste the purpose of each morsel, and the textures are defined. If I take anything away from this experience it will be that the collar of the fish – if I ever see it offered again – will be consumed straight away.

The spartan styling, white walls and simplistic furniture is out of necessity - for chotto is no ordinary eatery. chotto is the pragmatic result of failed negotiations with the council to create a restaurant on the current site. The pop-up cafe operates on tight margins and, admirably, prioritises paying staff a fair wage before reinvesting into the business. They have big aspirations, however, and are looking to open a restaurant called Kinome later this year. They are currently running a series of events, which can be found at the mirai link here. If you are interested, please make sure that you do your best to get along to one of them. I charge you all to go and have a delicious meal at chotto, for the pop-up does what is says on the tin.

chotto: a moment, a short time, briefly

photo credit chotto High Harvard Wang