Sen Ichie, Wokingham

Old friends from Singapore have just left - she is Italian, running a VC company in Japan, and he is a Belgian dad whose girls are about to fly the nest - and we were left with some lovely lacquered Japanese bowls as a thank you for their stay, as well as the trauma of a long-distance family gradually fragmenting. We live in a world that was once getting smaller but is now breaking apart. I loved the bowls. As I have previously disclosed I have a soft spot for everything Japanese. As I think we can all recognise, the Japanese do things differently.

But as unique as much of their food is, it has become a very familiar fixture all over the world in all its various guises and now Wokingham has a couple of sushi takeaways and a Japanese restaurant on what is a rather awkward corner on Peach Street where you have to breathe in so as to avoid getting run over by the traffic, so paltry is the pavement. I seem to recall that it used to be a Thai restaurant that I never visited.

Yes, the inReading food blog has spread its wings, packed our passports and headed south of the M4 again. After all, the boundary between our neighbouring boroughs has long faded from a green belt to swathes of identikit semi-detached houses.

G and I had heard very good things about Sen Ichie, and after a summer and autumn of travels, myself in Wales and Devon and him further afield in Utah and Vegas, we were long due a catch-up.

The menu is very long, with all the usual star turns: tempura, ramen, yakitori, sushi, donburi.  But not even all Japanese dishes are indigenous - tempura, like fish and chips, was a Portuguese import when they had missions in the country during its closed period (do watch Shogun on Disney+ if you have a subscription - it covers the period wonderfully).

Again, as I have previously noted in these pages, in Japan it is rare, from what I understand, to experience this. Indeed, restaurants that serve a single dish are often venerated. But this is the Western take where the choice is extensive and you worry about quality, but it turns out you do not need to be apprehensive.

The term 'ichi-go ichi-e' ('One time, one meeting') is rooted in traditional Japanese tea ceremonies and Zen Buddhism; the phrase captures the idea of treasuring the moment, reminding people that every meal, gathering, or encounter happens only once and should be met with full presence and gratitude.

So, here we are, in the moment, just G and I and a very long menu. So what better to do than order an Asahi and a Sapporo?

Now I should point out that every prolonged lunch with G has the jeopardy of turning into a Guardian 'dinner over the divide'. We both come from poor backgrounds in Celtic nations and have both done well for ourselves. But our world outlooks are very different. He loves the US, hence his frequent visits. Despite formerly living on both coasts, being married to a US citizen and taking a company public on NASDAQ, I think it unlikely that I will ever set foot in that Zionist puppet state again (oops, did I just write that out loud?). Meanwhile, G is very upset about Russian troops being killed by drones on YouTube. I reckon he's being a tad naive. These are challenged, troubled days we live in.

But we're mates and love to talk techie bollocks and eat good food, so just like the grauniad column, we somehow manage to maintain a civilised air most of the time and I suspect that we agree on most fundamental things in life. Perhaps more grumpy old men than dining across the divide then..

Sen Ichie seems to be owned and run by Chinese people - a massive group of Wokingham's ever-growing Hong Kong expat population came in whilst we were eating lunch and everyone chattered away with the staff in Cantonese. The Brits go out and eat Indian, the Indians go out for Chinese and the Chinese go for a Japanese, it seems.

In Reading the team behind Real Souvlaki are getting set to open an Italian. The creperie on Oracle's Riverside has a Brit and a Pole in charge. We can no longer, and should no longer, demand ethnic proprietorship for food, in my view. I can cook very good Indian, Italian, Thai and even Nigerian. So am I appropriating? You bet your dodo I am and I am very comfortable with it. I would argue that the sharing of food, recipes and culinary skills across borders and kitchens is one of the best developments of my lifetime. Go to any kitchen in the West End and you will find a United Nations of staff eagerly preparing your pampered meal. Britain's favourite fried chicken comes from Mozambique via South Africa (Nandos) and on Christmas day the Japanese traditionally eat KFC,

Cooking does not belong to anyone, yet we feel somehow deprived of authenticity if a British Indian/Bangladeshi restaurant has a white waiter. I find it strange. There is nothing less authentic than a traditional British Indian or Chinese restaurant, or, indeed, an American Italian restaurant (I recall being utterly horrified by my first meal in NYC's Little Italy).

Food is to be shared, from the ingredients to the eating - have you ever wondered what British food was like before the potato, or Indian food before the chilli was introduced from South America? Our local Indian, kebabs, Chinese and many other restaurants in North Wales were taken over by a couple of Turkish businessmen and they run them all fine.

But, I hear you despair, this is a restaurant review not an anthropological essay. Let me segue.

First of all, it has to be stated that the food was very good. We deliberately mixed it up and everything was delicious. We need not have worried about the breadth of the menu.

The edamame came well steamed with salt. Too often they are undercooked. I love peas but am not a huge fan of these protein hits (I think it has something to do with when I first ate them and thought that the whole pod was edible), so G scoffed most of them.

The chicken gyoza were perfectly stuffed and generous with the usual vinegar ginger dip. I am a bigger fan of the slightly fatter Chinese 'pot sticker' guotie (锅贴) dumplings. I doubt they were made on site (my apologies and admiration if they were), but they were both delicious and perfectly cooked - fried on one side whilst being steamed and with rice pastry that was not too sticky...

The chicken yakitori was a very nice stir-fried noodle and chicken dish in soy and mirin. Not great, but not bad and is a dish you can find all over the Far East, from mie goreng to chow mein (OK, that's a US invention - see what I mean ?). It would easily have been a good lunch on its own had I been eating solo.

The tempura mix of veg and prawns was lovely along with a soyish dip. The sweet potato and aubergine were enjoyable, but the prawns were the star. Plump, tasty and fishy. The Japanese knew what they were doing when they 'borrowed' this recipe from the Portuguese all those years ago and improved on it (Tempura batter is different because it uses ice-cold water, low-protein flour, and a minimal mixing technique to create a light, lumpy, and delicate crust that shatters rather than a heavy, dense, or breaded shell more familiar to us in the UK). This was lovely and light and very yum.

Finally, the tuna sushi plate was a delight. It arrived with its own plastic blossom tree in situ - an endearing touch. The fish was soft, the rice good if a bit dry and tasteless (it needed more vinegar in my opinion, preferably the slightly sweet Japanese red rice vinegar). The portions of sushi, nigiri, maki and uramaki with avocado and a spicy sauce were perfectly bite-sized for my big mouth. Now that two of my favourite fish, hake and mackerel, are on the 'at risk' list, tuna is both becoming indigenous again to British waters and is being successfully farmed in various places around the world. Good. I love tuna and am a bit bored with salmon. This was good tuna and the sashimi melted in my mouth and the simple, unadulterated meaty fish was my favourite. The waitress came over and mentioned how expensive each slice was and, for sure, ingredients aren't skimped upon here in Sen Ichie.

The fact that there is one sake on offer was disappointing, but we enjoyed it warm. If in doubt, drink it warm. If it's good, drink it cold (or so I have been assured by those who know and understand these things better than I do).

Nothing we ate was below average. Everything was slightly better than we had expected. You could come on five visits and have five different Japanese meals and leave happy every time should you so desire.

If I lived in this part of our extended conurbation I might well be a regular and, more so, would probably be ordering in so as not to risk my life after a beer and a sake whilst trying to navigate my way sideways down the ledge of a pavement leading back in or out of town.

But it should be added that prices are bargain basement - we ate all for the above plus two beers and a bottle and a half of sake for just over £100. That's extraordinary value for money these days. We left a £20 tip for the totally unobtrusive but lovely service. Sen Ichie is a case in point that the cult of authenticity should not get in the way of a great meal out. The gastronomic range of Wokingham has expanded considerably over the last few years - Spanish, Thai, Turkish, Lebanese and it is fast becoming somewhere anyone living in Reading should go to for a great meal and night out, whether you originally come from Wales, Scotland, Hong Kong or any other corner of our diverse culinary world.