What could be more straightforward than yakitori? All that's required is to chop up some chicken into bite-size chunks, skewer and hoist them over a grill, then season to taste and eat. Simple? Yes. Easy to do well? Obviously not, or there would be far more places of the caliber of Toriyoshi.

You can tell straight away this is not an ordinary neighborhood yakitori joint. For a start there's no red lantern outside, no cheerful clutter of bottles and detritus, no clouds of oily smoke billowing out of the door. In fact, were it not for the sign by the door to tell you otherwise, you'd think it was a full-fledged ryoriya of some distinction because it seems so neat and tidy.

The interior is equally clean-cut, new but traditional in its simplicity. A score of basic, low-backed chairs are pulled up to the counter of smoothly scrubbed cedar wood that runs around three sides of the open kitchen work area. The dark-green walls sport minimal decoration. But this doesn't mean Toriyoshi is in any way austere or elitist, just that nothing extraneous is allowed to divert your attention and appetite from the enjoyment of your yakitori.