Like a lotus growing from the mud of a murky pond, Gesshinkyo is a still point of serenity amid the hubbub of Harajuku. Its simple wooden door lies just steps away from Omotesando's fashion boutiques and preening temples to high-end spending. But when you step past the the coarse-woven hempen noren you find yourself in an oasis of calm and cultured refinement.

The look is utterly traditional. The hallway has a tokonoma with incense, candles and an ancient block print of Buddhas. The walls are of cracked mud, with wooden beams and pillars. A young assistant dressed in a gray country-cotton tunic greets you with appropriate formality. You will, of course, have a reservation (Gesshinkyo does not accept drop-in customers).

Having removed your shoes, you will be ushered inside -- larger groups to tatami-covered inner rooms, couples to a wide, dark wood counter from where you look directly onto a large, no-nonsense kitchen that is spotlessly clean.