Leaving behind the urban rhythm of Nagoya, Tzuyang journeys into Japan’s tranquil countryside to uncover the magic of irori grilling in Gifu, arriving at Mizunami—a misty, serene town nestled deep within Gifu Prefecture. Here lies Yanagiya, a culinary treasure with two Michelin stars and an 80-year legacy of family-run excellence.

A Cozy Welcome to Japan’s Culinary Past

At the entrance, a fluffy wildcat greets her like a guardian of the old ways, setting the tone for an unforgettable experience. The moment she steps inside, she’s enveloped in the warm, nostalgic ambiance of a traditional Japanese irori hearth. Tzuyang has reserved the entire hearthside table, ensuring a private, immersive dining session with the master himself—grilling each skewer to perfection before her eyes.

A Taste of Gifu’s Heritage and Wild Ingredients

The first course is nothing short of historic: braised bee larvae, simmered in a savory-sweet mixture of soy sauce, sake, and ginger for six hours. Though she’s usually averse to ginger, the subtle balance of flavors wins her over.

The dishes that follow read like a love letter to Gifu’s wilderness—tender juvenile ayu fish with nearly no bones, wild boar meat free of gaminess, and duck skin grilled until crisp alongside green onion, creating a texture-packed bite.

When presented with amago—freshwater trout often romanticized in anime—Tzuyang’s eyes widen in amazement. The fish, not commercially bought but caught by a friend of the owner, is grilled gently over ash and coal. Sharing one with the staff, she notes how the delicate flesh dissolves on the tongue.

Wild Boar, Venison, and Anime Confusion

Playful moments color the meal, such as Tzuyang jokingly mistaking the wild boar meat for “Inosuke”, referencing the Demon Slayer character. But the dish itself is no joke—the boar sirloin, thick-cut and flame-seared, melts into a rich, savory finish. It came from a locally hunted 80-kilogram beast, underscoring Yanagiya’s deep ties to nature.

The venison tenderloin is equally impressive, grilled to tender perfection and paired with house-selected sake. Real wasabi, grated fresh and smooth like radish, adds an aromatic punch without the usual spiciness, making each bite of aged deer sirloin stand out.

Irori Nabe and a Heartwarming Finale

As the skewers wind down, the final course—a rustic irori nabe (hot pot)—brings comfort and warmth. She playfully mistakes taro for potatoes, giggling as the flavors speak for themselves. The duck stew is hearty, and the rice, soaked in bonito-rich broth and mixed with earthy greens like bracken and radish, rounds off the feast beautifully.

Tzuyang remarks that many dishes—such as the dureup salad and butterbur with doenjang—were new to her, yet utterly delicious. Despite the multi-course spread, she’s still eager for more, which speaks to the chef’s mastery.

An 80-Year Culinary Legacy Worth Every Yen

As rain softly taps the windows, the irori’s warm glow adds a cinematic finish to the experience. At 200,000 won, this might be one of her pricier mukbangs, but Tzuyang is clear—it’s absolutely worth it. What she experienced at Yanagiya wasn’t just a meal; it was a journey through tradition, craftsmanship, and heartfelt hospitality.

The master’s quiet pride in every skewer, every explanation, and every flame flicker reflects three generations of dedication. Tzuyang leaves with not just a full stomach, but a memory carved deep—of one of Japan’s last true irori grilling sanctuaries.