The Umami Paradox: Chef Masa’s Smoked Ankimo & Persimmon Mosaic

· Japanese cooking,Kenji Nakamura,Experiments & Innovations,Seasonal Specials,Culinary artistry
A rectangular stack of thinly sliced smoked persimmon and ankimo arranged in a mille-feuille style, topped with a balsamic glaze and sitting in a dark sauce on a ceramic plate with smoke rising.

There are dishes that you taste, dishes that you admire, and dishes that momentarily stop the world. Chef Masa’s Smoked Ankimo & Persimmon Mosaic belongs firmly to that final category. It is a quietly daring creation born in the late hours of experimentation at Sushi Masa by Ki-setsu. The dish does not introduce itself politely. It arrives with the quiet confidence of a chef who has spent decades mastering restraint, only to spend his late nights asking a different question. What happens if I break my own rules?

As with many of Chef Masa’s experimental creations, this dish did not begin with a desire to impress. It began, as he later told me, “with a mistake, and a very good persimmon.” Breakthroughs in kitchens like his often happen quietly and unexpectedly, the result of intuition brushing against curiosity.

This article is my attempt to bring that moment, and this exquisite recipe, into your kitchen. As someone who has spent more than fifteen years studying the dialogue between Japanese tradition and modern technique, I recognize this dish as a rare kind of culinary thesis. It is a meditation on umami, texture, and the subtle chemistry that occurs when the familiar is nudged, gently but confidently, into the unknown.

The Origin of a Mosaic

Just past midnight, after the last omakase guest had departed, Chef Masa found himself staring at a small batch of leftover ankimo. Monkfish liver is often described as the foie gras of the sea. When prepared with care, it is perfectly cleaned, cured, and steamed. The flavor is delicate, rich in umami, and almost custard-like in proper execution. On this particular night, a VIP guest canceled at the last minute, leaving an extra roll untouched.

Most chefs would set it aside for a staff meal the next day. Not Masa.

Nearby sat a tray of firm, late-season fuyū persimmons sent by a local farmer. They were bright, sweet, and crisp. Masa sliced one open and tasted it. “It was perfect,” he said. “Too perfect to ignore.”

He placed the ankimo and persimmon side by side. The colors, soft coral next to vivid amber, already felt like an invitation.

The question was no longer whether they belonged together. The question was how.

The Umami Paradox

A whole ripe orange persimmon fruit sitting next to delicate slices of fresh raw ankimo on a rustic wooden table.

Japanese cuisine is often described as leaning gently toward harmony, but harmony does not always mean softness. Sometimes it is about two opposing elements finding balance on the palate. Rich and bright. Smoky and sweet. Creamy and crisp.

This dish plays with that tension with intention.

Ankimo is rich and savory with a marine depth that lingers. Persimmon, on the other hand, is sweet and floral with high-toned brightness. Together, they create what Masa calls the paradox of umami. It is a meeting of flavors that should clash but instead elevate one another.

He sliced the ankimo thinly, layered it with delicate sheets of persimmon, and pressed them together. The arrangement resembled a mosaic that was subtle, elegant, and quietly striking.

It was delicious, but something was missing.

Smoke.

Why Smoke?

In Japanese cuisine, smoke is often used with restraint. It is not a blunt instrument. It is a whisper that accents rather than overwhelms.

Masa chose sakura wood for its clean, lightly floral quality. It imparts a soft smokiness with no harsh edges. He smoked the assembled mosaic for less than two minutes. The goal was to perfume the dish rather than saturate it.

The smoke softened the sweetness of the persimmon and deepened the richness of the ankimo. The aroma was warm and lingering, reminiscent of early autumn evenings in rural Japan.

“Smoke is memory,” he told me. “A very old human flavor.”

The Final Touch: The Shiso Balsamic Glaze

This is where the spirit of innovation fully reveals itself.

Traditional ankimo preparations rely on ponzu, scallion, and momiji oroshi. Masa took a different direction. He crafted a glaze from:

  • aged balsamic vinegar
  • mirin
  • soy sauce
  • red shiso

The balsamic might appear unusual in a Japanese kitchen, but its fruitiness ties the ankimo and persimmon together with ease. The red shiso adds a faint herbal aroma and a deep plum color.

The glaze is slowly reduced until it coats the back of a spoon. A few warm droplets are brushed lightly across the smoked mosaic. Enough to add complexity, not enough to dominate.

The Recipe: Smoked Ankimo & Persimmon Mosaic

Serves: 4 as an appetizer
Category: Experiments and Innovations
Time: 24 hours, with most of the time for curing and resting

Ingredients

For the Ankimo

  • 300 g monkfish liver (ankimo), fresh
  • 2 tbsp coarse salt
  • 1 tbsp sake
  • 1 tbsp mirin

For the Mosaic

  • 2 ripe but firm fuyū persimmons
  • 1 tbsp lemon juice
  • 1 sheet kombu
  • Sakura wood chips for smoking

For the Shiso Balsamic Glaze

  • 3 tbsp aged balsamic vinegar
  • 1 tbsp mirin
  • 1 tsp soy sauce
  • 4 leaves red shiso or perilla

Garnish

  • Micro shiso
  • Thinly sliced myoga
  • A touch of yuzu zest

Step by Step Instructions

1. Prepare the Ankimo on Day 1

  1. Rinse the monkfish liver gently under cold water.
  2. Remove the veins carefully using tweezers. This helps ensure a smooth texture.
  3. Sprinkle the liver thoroughly with coarse salt and refrigerate for one hour.
  4. Rinse away the salt and pat dry.
  5. Sprinkle with sake and mirin.
  6. Roll tightly in plastic wrap to form a firm cylinder. Twist the ends to secure.
  7. Steam over low heat for 15 to 18 minutes, depending on thickness.
  8. Chill overnight to set.

Kenji’s note: Your goal is firmness without toughness. Think of a gently set custard rather than pâté.

2. Slice the Persimmons

Wash and dry the persimmons.
Slice them on a mandoline at a thickness of 1 to 2 millimeters.
Brush lightly with lemon juice to prevent browning.
Place the slices between sheets of kombu for 20 minutes to add subtle umami.

3. Assemble the Mosaic on Day 2

Slice the chilled ankimo into thin rounds, matching the thickness of the persimmon slices.
On a cling wrapped tray, alternate layers of persimmon and ankimo.
Aim for at least eight layers in total.
Cover tightly with plastic wrap.
Press gently with a weighted plate for 20 minutes.

4. Smoke the Mosaic

Place sakura wood chips in a stovetop smoker.
When smoke begins to rise, place the mosaic inside.
Smoke for 90 to 120 seconds.
A longer smoking time will overpower the dish.

5. Prepare the Shiso Balsamic Glaze

Combine balsamic vinegar, mirin, soy sauce, and torn shiso leaves in a small saucepan.
Bring to a gentle simmer.
Reduce for about 5 to 7 minutes until the glaze becomes glossy.
Strain and allow to cool slightly.

6. Plate the Dish

Slice the mosaic into rectangles about an inch wide.
Brush lightly with the glaze.
Garnish with micro shiso, myoga, and a faint touch of yuzu zest.
Serve immediately.

Tasting Notes: A Dish That Changes With Time

A clear glass cloche dome filled with thick, swirling white smoke, covering a gourmet dish for a dramatic tableside presentation.

What struck me most when tasting this dish was not its complexity, but its evolution. The first bite is sweet, dominated by the clean floral taste of persimmon. The ankimo arrives shortly after, bringing depth and warmth. The balsamic shiso glaze brings everything into balance with its acidity and brightness.

The smoke is what lingers.

Sakura wood provides a soft aroma…

Every element feels intentional. Yet the dish never feels overly calculated. It feels natural, almost as if these ingredients have always known each other.

Why This Dish Belongs in the Experiments and Innovations Collection

Chef Masa is known for his discipline, but his creativity thrives in quiet margins. These are the moments after service, the moments when intuition challenges tradition.

This dish embodies that spirit.

It uses traditional Japanese ingredients but reimagines their relationship. It incorporates a European element like balsamic vinegar while remaining unmistakably Japanese. It requires precision, yet it welcomes small imperfections. A slightly thicker persimmon slice, a touch more smoke, or a glaze that reduces a little too far. These variations contribute to the character of the dish.

Most of all, it tells a story. A story about respecting ingredients while refusing to be limited by them.

Bringing This Dish Home

Although it appears refined, home cooks can recreate this dish with patience, high quality ingredients, and a willingness to explore.

If ankimo is unavailable, seared foie gras can be used as a substitute. Assemble the mosaic just before serving. The result will not be identical, but you will learn something important in the attempt. Luxury in cooking is not defined by rarity or cost. It is defined by intention.

If smoking equipment is unavailable, a handheld smoker works well. Even a gentle torch applied to the edges of the persimmon can provide a hint of aromatic depth.

Balance is the goal
Flavor, texture, timing, curiosity

These are the foundations of Chef Masa’s kitchen.

Final Reflections

As someone who has spent most of his life immersed in Japanese cuisine, from my grandmother’s Kyoto style simmered dishes to modern Tokyo fusion kitchens, I find dishes like this deeply exciting. Not because they are extravagant, but because they honor both heritage and imagination.

Chef Masa’s Smoked Ankimo & Persimmon Mosaic is more than a recipe. It is a quiet conversation between tradition and innovation. It respects the past but steps confidently toward the future. It is a reminder that food becomes art not when a chef tries to impress, but when he listens carefully to the ingredients.