Yakitori. The term covers a multitude of chicken possibilities, ranging from smoky yatai and stand-up nomiya under the proverbial tracks all the way to plush establishments for Ginza madames where every bird on the menu is reared in free-range bliss, cooked over premium charcoal and washed down with Burgundy sploshed into oversized globes.

Bincho occupies a comfortable niche in the upper middle ground of this spectrum. It does not pretend to offer an exclusive gourmet experience, and yet it invests heavily in the old-fashioned virtues: a serene setting, victuals of fine quality and gracious attention to the minutiae of service. Indeed, it is well on its way to becoming a Tokyo institution.

You could dismiss it as a relic of another era, those earlier, less raucous times when the Roppongi back streets were still the venue for upscale (if risque) evening entertainments. Now, of course, it's turning into Patpongi (as those who know Bangkok's seediest tourist zone have named it) -- but Bincho sails on regardless, literally as well as figuratively above the fray.