Tokyo’s reinvigorated Nihonbashi district offers a unique snapshot of the city’s past and present.
In central Tokyo’s Nihonbashi district, a storied past and a vivacious present comingle amid a swirl of commerce and culture.
Strolling through the residential backstreets of Tokyo’s Nihonbashi district, I turn a corner to find a narrow road bursting with food stalls and sake-drinking locals. At center stage is a torii-gated neighborhood shrine dedicated to Ebisu, the Shinto god of prosperity. Sandwiched between two micro parking lots, today it is festooned, like the adjoining streets, with festive chochin lanterns to mark one of the city’s most cherished and longstanding celebrations: the Nihonbashi Ebisu-ko Bettaraichi, an annual autumn pickle fair that features hundreds of tented booths selling everything from cold beer and kushiage skewers to the headlining bettara-zuke, or Tokyo-style pickled daikon. Amidst the carnivalesque atmosphere, it’s easy to forget that the surrounding city blocks were not so long ago the financial center of Japan.
Nihonbashi takes its name from the wooden bridge around
which it grew up in the 17th century as merchants from across the country flooded into Edo, the new capital of the Tokugawa shogunate. Marking the starting point for the Five Great Highways of feudal Japan, the bridge was replaced by a stately stone span in 1911, though these days it’s almost hidden beneath an elevated expressway. Nihonbashi has likewise changed with the times. Home to Japan’s first stock exchange, the commercial district became the heart of the modern Japanese economy, rebuilding itself after the Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923 and the bombing of Tokyo during World War II only to be derailed by the bursting of Japan’s economic bubble in the early 1990s. When the exchange subsequently closed its sprawling trading floor in favor of all-electronic trading, the area quickly lost its vigor.
But Tokyo, like all truly great cities, is in constant flux, and Nihonbashi is no exception. Today, the district is in the midst of another transformation, especially in Kabutocho, a neighborhood on the south side of the Nihonbashi River. Once known as Japan’s Wall Street, the streets here may no longer teem with sharp-suited stock traders, but they are attracting a new generation of Tokyoites (and travelers) with their growing mix of independent restaurants and bars.
At the center of it all is K5, a hip 20-room hotel housed in the former Dai-ichi Bank building. Constructed in the immediate wake of the Great Kanto Earthquake, the somber neoclassical structure is one of the few buildings of that era to have survived both Tokyo’s wartime bombing and the subsequent march of development. Even so, it was earmarked for demolition before its owners were swayed to go the conversion route instead, with Stockholm-based architectural studio Claesson Koivisto Rune brought in to transform the four-story building into its current iteration. Merging Scandinavian and Japanese design sensibilities — think beehive-shaped washi-paper lanterns, indigo-dyed bed curtains, tatami-inspired wool carpets — it makes for a refreshing alternative to the city’s surfeit of high-rise hotels.
K5 is a foodie favorite too thanks to the presence of Caveman, its airy ground-floor restaurant. Born the son of a sushi master in downtown Tokyo, head chef Jun Hishiya’s changing menu of progressive Japanese cuisine revolves around classic Edo-style dishes — eel with fermented cabbage and pumpkin, say — that celebrate Nihonbashi’s deep historical roots. In the basement below, beer hall B is the first overseas taproom by New York’s Brooklyn Brewery, with a rotating selection of international draft and bottled craft beers alongside a taco-centric menu of bar bites.
“Nihonbashi is a very gray area, and Kabutocho is helping to reinvigorate the district,” one of K5’s co-founders, Yuta Oka, tells me. “After the nearby stock exchange switched to online trading in 1999, many people moved out, creating an opportunity to repurpose existing buildings.”
A five-minute drive away in neighboring Yaesu, the monthsold Bulgari Hotel Tokyo isn’t technically in Nihonbashi, but it is certainly adding luster to the vicinity. Overlooking Tokyo Station, it crowns the top floors of a shiny new skyscraper with a blend of contemporary Italian design and precise Japanese craftsmanship, a combo that’s also reflected in the property’s
two restaurants: one by Abruzzo-born star chef Niko Romito, the other by sushi master Kenji Gyoten.
Back in Kabutocho, a host of more grounded (literally) venues include Omnipollos Tokyo, an offshoot of the independent Swedish microbrewery Omnipollo. Neatly tucked away down a quiet alley, the bar’s tiny timber building is the former home of an unagiya (eel restaurant) established in the 1950s. Though the original wooden roof remains, the interiors now sport ceruleanblue walls and hits of neon — a suitably funky setting for a beer list that includes Omnipollos’s own crisp Rice IPA.
A short stroll away, another concept bar shines the spotlight on doburoku, a milky-white unfiltered rice wine. Set up by Wakayama-based sake maker Heiwa Shuzo, Heiwa Doburoku Kabutocho Brewery is a bright corner space that ferments its liquor in-house in large enamel soup pots. If the plain version isn’t to your taste, there are several other brews to choose from, including a dry-hopped doburoku and one blended with ground azuki beans.
Other recent arrivals include Bank Kabutocho, a compact lifestyle complex by renowned pastry chef Keisuke Oyama that features a bakery, coffee shop, bistro, and a floral design shop; Neki, where Kyoto-born chef Kyohei Nishi has helped to put Kabutocho back on Tokyo’s gourmet map with his casual French fare accented by Japanese flavors and techniques; and, back across the bridge on the same block as the Ebisu shrine, Commissary, a food hall that brings together five popular independent vendors. Among them is Kitade Tacos, which dishes up a Japanese take on the Mexican classic with tortillas made from Hokkaido corn, ground on-site in an electric molino (corn mill) imported from Mexico.
Yet in the midst of this ever-shifting landscape, there are still a number of venerable businesses that bridge the gap between Nihonbashi’s storied past and its promising future. One is Ozu Washi, purveyors of fine Japanese washi paper since 1653 (an on-site studio offers paper-making workshops). Another is Kiya Nihonbashi, a high-end knife specialist founded in 1792. The 1933-built Nihonbashi flagship of Takashimaya is one of Japan’s oldest department stores and a nationally designated gem of early Showa–period architecture, its original elevators still manned by uniformed attendants. And for a taste of Edo-style tempura (which is fried in sesame oil), there’s Tenmo, a familyrun business that began life as a sidewalk stall more than 130 years ago. Its premises, a humble twostory house squeezed in among the backstreet apartments of the Nihonbashihoncho neighborhood, dates from the 1940s.
Pedigreed green-tea brand Yamamotoyama Fujie Sabo has been operating in the area for over 300 years. “The reinvention of Nihonbashi truly embodies the essence of Tokyo,” resident tea master Naoko Yoshida explains while sipping a freshly poured single-origin sencha from Shizuoka Prefecture. “As you will have noticed, Tokyo is a city that is constantly evolving. It’s not easy to find historical districts that have remained unchanged. Nihonbashi is perhaps no different. But while its appearance has changed, the core remains the same.”