Omakase Vs Kaiseki: What's The Difference?

You know it's bad when some restaurants even use the names kaiseki and omakase interchangeably. Besides expectations around decorum and both dining styles being Japanese, we can contrast the ceremonial world of kaiseki against the more playful and personalized omakase approach for a long time. But let's start off with one similarity — they're both way more than sushi. I would never say "more than just sushi" because sushi is a culinary galaxy all of its own, but sushi is only a small part of omakase and kaiseki.

While we're dismantling any preconceptions, let's remember that Chef Shota Nakajima says "Kaiseki is actually a type of omakase most of the time, but not all omakase menus are kaiseki." That's a real "every tiger is a cat, but not every cat is a tiger" statement, but it makes sense after reading up on the two traditions. Nakajima explains that, "kaiseki menus often fall under the omakase umbrella because they involve a chef deciding the progression and dishes. Not all omakase menus follow the rigid structure of kaiseki." So we're ready to leave everything we thought we knew about omakase and kaiseki dining and do some learning? Then itadakimasu!

If you look closely, the names omakase and kaiseki share rich stories about each dining style. Omakase translates literally to "as you like it," while kaiseki means "stones in the bosom" in English.

The first name is straightforward — at first glance, it's another way of requesting a chef surprise you. In English, we might say "dealer's choice" to convey that we trust a professional's expertise. Yet the historical context surrounding omakase's advent only enriches the phrase. The omakase dining style began as early as 1967 but gained mainstream popularity in the 1990s thanks to an economic boom in Japan. Nouveau riche had money to burn but lacked the background to know much about which species of fish was in season. The phrase began as a shorthand to save face but captures the faith a guest has in their chef — the term comes from the verb makaseru, which written in the traditional style of kanji 任せる means to trust. That first character 任 is said to communicate the weight of responsibility.

"Stones in the bosom" seems esoteric at first glance. Not eating after noon was emphasized in early Buddhist precepts as a healthy way to live, so fasting or partial fasting was emphasized in the Zen tradition for monks and nuns. Clergy would sometimes stash warm stones known as seki, or 石 in the kanji ideogram, into robes called kai or 懐 to comfort and distract from their grumbling tummies.

The two cuisines were born in different ends of Japan. Chef Shin Yamaoka explains, "Omakase has roots in Tokyo, the heart of traditional sushi culture. Kaiseki originated in Kyoto, the historical epicenter of refined Japanese cuisine".

Kyoto, or the Western Capital, earned its nickname as "the thousand-year capital" because it was the seat of the imperial court from 794 AD to 1869. As the playground of elites built with the Daidari palace smack dab in its center, Kyoto was the logical incubator for extravagant kaiseki ceremonies.

Tokyo was known as Edo until 1869, when it was appointed as Japan's official capital for its strategic position to trade with Western powers. Simply put, Kyoto can be thought of as Japan's historical heart and Tokyo as its' experimental future. This encapsulates the differences in our cuisines, as Chef Nakajima explains the philosophies behind the two.

"Kaiseki has a traditional structure with seasonal elements and specific rules about progression, while other forms of omakase may allow more freedom in the format and dishes served. In omakase, I emphasize storytelling through personal touch and connection with the guest. In kaiseki, I focus on honoring tradition and nature, ensuring that each course flows seamlessly into the next."

Given this historical context, it follows that kaiseki as the older tradition would also be the more formal style. This is reflected not just in the menu and decor but also the pacing of the meal.

Chef Maricel Gentile shares that, "An omakase meal typically lasts 1 — 2 hours. A kaiseki meal can stretch to 2 — 3 hours or more." A matter of hours for one meal may seem excessive, but savoring the complex tastes and textures is one of the main points of either ceremony. One of the greatest taboos would be to rush the servers and chef. Even body language signaling impatience would be disrespectful to the heart of the tradition.

Neither kaiseki nor omakase meals are the time to stuff an itinerary with places to be shortly afterwards, whether it's a date night out or if the experience is part of a larger trip. If anything, pad out your plans with an extra half hour or so after the meal is set to end to discuss your experience with any companions. Oh, and absolutely handle any phone calls or texts long before you arrive. And then turn that thing off. If you want to take a picture, communicate that with the staff in advance but keep in mind it may not be an appropriate request.

Modern day kaiseki and omakase aren't just disruptions to the hectic pace of modern life; they're portals into a chef's imagination. Chef Yamaoka establishes that guests should, "avoid behaviors like overpowering conversations, arriving late, stepping out to smoke in the middle of a meal or wasting food." Some of the courses may look unlike what you're used to — trust in the chef isn't meant to always be easy and this definitely isn't the time or place for picky eaters.

Chef Nakajima expounds on the meal as art saying that, "For both styles, I want guests to leave with a sense of discovery and connection. In omakase, the goal is to create a unique, intimate experience. I want guests to appreciate the creativity and thought that go into each dish, and to feel the dynamic connection between myself and the meal they're enjoying. For kaiseki, I hope guests feel a sense of calm and mindfulness. It's about experiencing the harmony of the season, where every detail — from the flavors to the presentation — tells a story."

It is helpful to compare these meals to stories, and more specifically to a stage play. An audience member would never ask the actors to get through their lines faster or skip a scene they don't think they'll enjoy — they'd sit quietly and enjoy the work put into the event. 

Not only are the plating of a course and its contents both elements in a chef's greater vision, so is the sauce provided (or lack thereof) and the specific quantity of that sauce. So while Westerners might consider asking for a beloved condiment like a second dipper of ranch to be an innocent gesture and a matter of personal choice, this request is considered a serious imbalance to a carefully calculated dish.

Chef Gentile specifies that, "Don't ask for soy sauce unless offered — it's a performance as much as a meal." Casual Japanese eateries and even many upscale restaurants, like a tempura place, will offer little trays of condiments but in a context like this where so much emphasis is put upon the role of the chef, it's not acceptable. This taboo also extends to asking for ginger, wasabi or any other addition. 

The progression of courses also takes into account pallet cleansers so to put upon your host these accommodations at the time of the meal is, whether or not intended to be, to question their abilities to host you. The heart of omotenashi, Japanese hospitality, centers on the host's deliberate consideration of the guest's comfort and the guest's responsibility to express appreciation. Any dietary requests, ingredient omissions or allergies need to be made clear well ahead of time, ideally while reserving the meal so the restaurant can comfortably tell if you they can't.

When asked what is the most appreciated way to compliment to the chef, Nakajima suggests to, "simply enjoy the meal — an empty plate or a quiet smile is often all that's needed. For omakase, where there's often direct interaction, thoughtful questions about the ingredients or techniques are always welcome. For kaiseki, which tends to be more formal, quiet gratitude is ideal. The experience is designed to immerse the guest, so a nod of appreciation or a simple "thank you" at the end of the meal is perfect." For those of us who don't speak Japanese, a smile has the added bonus of no embarrassing mispronunciations. As the dishes are so deliberately portioned, not finishing off a dish is looked upon as rude.

Thoughtful questions asked in an appropriately quiet voice that convey curiosity about the origins of your food — like where it was grown — are welcome in moderation and when asked with consideration to the role of the chef (so don't ask them a question while they're busy making a delicate, elaborate cut). Before asking, triple-check with your internal compass that your inquiry doesn't smack of any suspicion or doubt in the judgement of the chef's team. When in doubt, stay silent and smile politely. 

While small talk might come naturally, try resting in a comfortable silence with your companions. It's yet another cultural foray. You can trust they're enjoying themselves as much as you are.

While omakase generally starts with light dishes and progresses to hardier, richer bites, there is a set format to a kaiseki menu. However, the Michelin-rated, Munich-based restaurant Sansaro warns that, "If you ask ten different chefs about the criteria of kaiseki, you will get ten different answers." Keep in mind that the following is an outline, not an exact script.

The first course is the sakizuke, an appetizer intended to set the stage for the story to come. Second is a wan-mori, a refreshing clear soup. "Wan" literally translates to bowl and "mori" can mean to pile or to prosper — both interpretations referencing abundance.  Third is the mukōzuke, often a sashimi showcasing a chef's knife skills.

Fourth is a steamed or grilled dish called a yakimono or yakihassun. Fifth is the nimono-wan or futa-mono, which are boiled dishes. A hassun may also be used, which is a small sampler pulling one element from the mountains and the other from the ocean. Sixth is the shii-zakana, a fried, steamed or vinegar-based dish.

The seventh course, a shokuji, includes rice or sushi, a soup and a side dish to represent an entire meal. Variation exists as to whether rice or noodles is provided and the thickness of the broth. The eighth course is dessert, known as the mizu-gashi or kanmi or mizu-mono. This treat can come be a compote, jelly, cake or fruit but it is typically light.

Kaiseki is often described as an homage to nature and omakase as the celebration of a specific moment which can never be replicated. This means both styles value fresh ingredients, especially local ones. The chefs provided their favorite flavors throughout the year going by season. 

Chef Ryan Stock says for summer he prefers, "citrus, watermelon, cucumber, corn but emphasis on chilled dishes" and in spring, he relies upon, "strawberry, cherry, spring onions, bamboo shoots, matcha. Floral essences, colors and profiles would be the foundation for a lot of the inspiration during this period."

In Fall, Chef Yamaoka likes to utilize, "fattier, richer fish in his dishes like Mackerel." For winter, Yamaoka shares that, "menus may feature root vegetables, preserved ingredients, and fish like buri (yellowtail), a prized catch during the colder months." Chef Nakajima's list of winter ingredients includes, "turnips, Black Cod, Buri (Japanese Amberjack), crab, yellow Yuzu, Shungiku (Chrysanthemum greens)". Gentile agrees, adding that both styles "shine in winter with ingredients like crab, pufferfish, and root vegetables. In kaiseki, you might see a hot soup or a steaming nabemono course. For omakase, fatty fish like toro (tuna belly) and uni (sea urchin) are highlights."

For both omakase and kaiseki Chef Gentile explains that, "As for pouring drinks — if you pour own drink it's like saying the other people are not paying attention to you — so you are embarrassing them. If you want to get your glass filled, fill someone else first and they will in turn fill yours." Actually, there's a whole hierarchy of who to pour for first to consult before you fill glasses. 

This is another example of an action that's second nature to many of us being perceived as a serious slight. It's also a good lesson to apply to overall life beyond fine dining; if you'd like some else to care for you then you should initiate by caring for them. And if your meal companion isn't keeping pace with you, consider slowing down. The point isn't to get drunk anyway — inebriation is definitely an insult to the nuances of a chef's efforts. 

The sake being enjoyed will most likely be quite high end and customized to the meal, so fewer and smaller sips are encouraged. Sake sommeliers, known as a Kikisake-shi, are always eager to share their expertise about the type of sake being served and how it compliments your meal, where the ingredients were harvested from and what makes this bottle unique, or even the overall process used to produce sake if you want to raise the topic artfully.

Gentile outlines that when using chopsticks, "don't stick them in the bowl of rice (or any food) — rest them on the chopstick rest, or edge of your plate. Also don't pass food with chopsticks. Bot of these resemble what is done at funerals."

The taboo originates from upright chopsticks resembling funerary incense and the extra bowl of rice set aside for the dead. Known as tate-bashi, it's considered bad manners and even bad luck. Passing food with chopsticks is crude because after a funeral service, the closest loved ones to an individual accompany the body to cremation and then pick up remaining bones with chopsticks and place them into an urn. 

Chopstick etiquette abounds; chopsticks should be placed down parallel to one another, never crossed. Rubbing together your chopsticks as you would disposable ones is rude because it insinuates you think your host has provided splinter-y, poor quality chopsticks. Pointing with your chopsticks is also rude, as is giving up and poking your food to skewer it onto the chopstick. Obviously. 

In the unlikely occurrence a chopstick rest isn't present at your table, make one with your napkin but never rest your chopsticks across the bowl like a bridge. Gentile adds that a diner should, "use the non-eating end of your chopstick to get food from a communal plate." That one is basic hygiene. 

Look, neither type of meal is cheap and when it comes to seafood — especially when served raw — a bargain can signify less freshly caught fish. As a metropolitan center with a myriad of kaiseki and omakase options, you can't do much better than Los Angeles. The city has the largest Japanese population outside of Japan and suburbs like Torrance boast some of the highest Japanese-American populations for a medium-size city nationwide.

In a round-up of some of Los Angeles's kaiseki and omakase restaurants, the priciest option for omakase was at MORIHIRO coming out to $400 per person for bar seating close-up with the chef or table service for $250. UKA Restaurant provides a three course omakase for $75 and a five course omakase for $150. More affordable options like Masakazu offered omakase for $88-165 and if you drive out from the city to Redondo Beach, Sushi Chitose hosts omakase meals at $80 per head, although the number of courses isn't specified. 

Kaiseki averaged out at $350 with m/Naka offering thirteen courses for $365 and a 9 course kaiseki/omakase meal at Japan House running exactly $350. UKA Restaurant also settled on a cost of $350 for a nine course kaiseki menu. The lowest cost kaiseki came from n/soto and their $95 seven course meal, which isn't labeled as a kaiseki but the menu does roughly fit the form discussed earlier.

While many restaurants serve kaiseki at tables, Gentile shares that, "Traditional settings may require modest attire, and you'll often be seated on tatami mats, so comfortable clothing is a good idea. For women, short skirts are generally acceptable but revealing cleavage or midriff is considered inappropriate. Instead, focus on modest, polished outfits that project elegance and respect for the occasion." If there's any chance of being seated on a tatami mat, keep in mind that the way to sit is with your legs folded beneath you, hands resting on knees. This might be the time for a maxi skirt or pants.

Omakase is typically business casual, but Gentile explains that many people must rethink what qualifies as business casual. "Even what's considered "business casual," [is] typically more formal than in the West. While Western business casual might include jeans, polo shirts, or casual dresses, Japanese business casual leans closer to what might be considered semi-formal in other cultures." 

Gentile explains that another cultural convention is to "Be aware that many traditional Japanese dining experiences, especially in kaiseki settings, may require you to remove your shoes so plan ahead by wearing easy-to-remove footwear."