August 28, 2026 |
Before we understood Ushio, we felt it.
On a 29-degree weeknight, Charlotte Street was doing what it does best: bars spilling onto pavements, restaurant chatter filling the warm evening air, and the whole street buzzing with energy. Then we stepped through the doors of Ushio and all of that disappeared. The room was warm-toned and intimate. Conversation softened, the pace immediately slowed, and for the next two hours the outside world simply ceased to matter.
That sense of calm is intentional. Ushio seats just ten guests at any given time, all at the counter overlooking the grill. Leading the evening was Chef Hakusei Chin, who quietly guided each course from start to finish. Every dish was prepared directly in front of us, allowing us to watch every stage of its journey, from the angle of the chef’s knife to the precise moment each cut met the grill. There were no unnecessary theatrics, just craftsmanship that spoke for itself.
Watching the process only heightened our anticipation. We followed every movement and yet still had no idea exactly how each dish would taste until it was placed in front of us. That gap between seeing and tasting became one of the evening’s greatest pleasures. Even after watching each course come together, the first bite still managed to surprise us.
Dinner is served omakase, a Japanese dining style that places the experience entirely in the chef’s hands. There is no menu to navigate; each course arrives when the kitchen decides it’s ready. It requires a little trust, but Ushio rewards that trust with a sequence of beautifully considered dishes that prioritise precision over excess. Portions are deliberately modest, allowing every cut to be appreciated on its own merits rather than overwhelming the palate.
Early in the evening, we were presented with a small illustrated diagram of a cow. The relevant cut was stamped onto the illustration so that, by the end of the meal, we had a personal record of exactly what we’d eaten and where it had come from. It was a simple but thoughtful ritual that perfectly reflected Ushio’s approach: transparent, educational and quietly engaging.
Each course was paired with a carefully selected drink, moving naturally between sake, white wine and red wine as the flavours deepened throughout the evening. Rather than following a predetermined order, every pairing was chosen specifically for the dish in front of us, making the progression feel seamless and considered.
Ushio first opened in Fukuoka, Japan, around a decade ago, at a time when Japanese Wagyu was largely judged by the amount of marbling it contained. The restaurant set out to challenge that idea.
Working primarily with female Japanese Black Wagyu, prized for its fine grain and depth of flavour rather than sheer richness, Ushio embraces the philosophy of akami. While often translated simply as “lean meat”, here it represents something broader: a philosophy built around selecting cuts that showcase the flavour of the beef itself, rather than relying on fat alone to create luxury.
That philosophy unfolded naturally across the eight-course Wagyu tasting menu. We began with finely chopped Wagyu mixed with rich egg yolk, spring onion and seaweed, a simple opening that immediately set the tone for the quality of the beef. Next came the Ushio salad, dressed in the restaurant’s house-made dressing, providing a fresh palate cleanser before the grilled courses began.
The first grilled course was tongue, notably the only beef element not sourced from Japan. As Japanese beef tongue is classified as offal, it cannot currently be imported into the UK, leading the chefs to spend months tasting alternatives before selecting the version served here. It proved a confident opening to the grilled sequence: deeply savoury, gently springy and unlike anything that followed.
Rump arrived next, served with Japanese pepper. Lean and firm, it delivered a clean beef flavour that perfectly illustrated Ushio’s akami philosophy. Kurimi followed with daikon and ponzu, offering slightly more marbling alongside a deeper, more concentrated flavour. It marked the point where Ushio’s leaner and richer philosophies began to meet.
The sirloin was the night’s most indulgent cut, almost melting on the tongue, with beautifully balanced richness. Immediately afterwards came lean sirloin, a fascinating contrast that demonstrated just how dramatically two expressions of the same area of the animal can differ.
Our Wagyu sequence concluded with misuji, tender and juicy, its delicate marbling woven evenly throughout the meat rather than sitting heavily on top. It provided a fitting finale to a tasting menu that constantly challenged our expectations of what Wagyu could be.
A welcome addition to the tasting menu came in the form of Ushio’s Fukuoka Specialty Wagyu Curry. Slow-cooked beef tendon created remarkable depth, while the spice blend remained fragrant, balanced and precise. After the succession of grilled courses, it offered both contrast and comfort.
The consistency across every course came not only from the quality of the beef but also from the cooking itself. Before reaching the grill, each cut was gently tempered over a bespoke Japanese hibachi designed exclusively for Ushio. Rather than exposing fridge-cold beef to intense heat, the hibachi gradually brought each cut to temperature before it was finished on the counter grill in front of us. The result was remarkably even cooking, allowing the texture and flavour of each cut to fully develop.
With the exception of the tongue, every piece of Wagyu served is selected and butchered by Ushio’s own specialist butcher shop in Fukuoka, the very operation behind the original restaurant. That direct connection to its origins gives the experience an authenticity that feels difficult to replicate.
By the end of the evening, what stayed with us wasn’t simply the quality of the food, although it was exceptional, but the feeling of having experienced something genuinely different. Ushio didn’t ask for our attention through spectacle. Instead, it earned it through quiet confidence, extraordinary technique and an unwavering respect for both its ingredients and its traditions. It is a restaurant that rewards those willing to slow down, pay attention and appreciate every detail. And while it’s difficult to fully capture that experience in words, that’s perhaps exactly what makes Ushio so memorable.
Photography courtesy of Ushio.
