For its size, the small coastal city of Kamakura punches well above its weight as a tourist destination. Year-round, it draws streams of visitors who come to wander the slow-paced, low-rise backstreets, explore the historic temples and shrines or just laze on its beaches.

Located just an hour by train from Tokyo and half that from nearby Yokohama, Kamakura often draws comparison with Japan’s ancient capital, Kyoto. Though far smaller, it was also for a short time the administrative center of Japan under the samurai regime of the Kamakura Period (1185-1333) shoguns.

An important center of Zen Buddhism, it also developed as a thriving cultural base for artists and artisans. But in one vital respect the two cities cannot be spoken of in the same breath: Kamakura has never been a focus for the culinary arts.

Kyoto’s cuisine underpins the gastronomy of all Japan and is revered worldwide. By contrast, Kamakura is a provincial town catering mostly to day-trippers and holidaymakers. It boasts a number of fine eateries, including noodle counters of some note, but few ryōriya (traditional restaurants) of abiding culinary merit.

Now add one more to that elite list. There was a ripple of anticipation when word spread that a new restaurant had opened in Kamakura in May 2021, helmed by a chef who had trained and worked for the best part of two decades at some of Kyoto’s most respected temples of kaiseki (traditional Japanese cuisine).

Simply called Kamakura Kitajima after the family name of its chef, it already has more than met those expectations — at least among those that have managed to track it down and secure a place at its counter.

The dining room at Kamakura Kitajima is spare and uncluttered in traditional Japanese style with eight seats at the polished timber counter overlooking chef Yasunori Kitajima’s workspace. | KOUTAROU WASHIZAKI
The dining room at Kamakura Kitajima is spare and uncluttered in traditional Japanese style with eight seats at the polished timber counter overlooking chef Yasunori Kitajima’s workspace. | KOUTAROU WASHIZAKI

Heading away from the bustle of shops surrounding Kamakura Station, a 15-minute stroll (or five-minute taxi ride) brings you to a quiet residential neighborhood of lush gardens and Buddhist temple compounds close by the city’s eastern hills. Here, tucked away behind a grove of evergreens, stands of bamboo and a venerable ginkgo tree, you find the low-slung, freestanding structure that houses Kamakura Kitajima.

From the street, the modern architecture seems modest. Once inside, though, you are surrounded by walls of smooth, earth-tone plaster, doors and ceilings of fresh cedar wood, windows muffled with washi paper and hand-brushed calligraphy in carefully backlit alcoves.

The dining area is a simple chamber in traditional Japanese style, spare and uncluttered. There are eight seats at the polished timber counter that runs the length of the room, overlooking chef Yasunori Kitajima’s workspace. The matte-textured back wall is faced in plain ocher mud, its only decoration a small flower arrangement plucked each day from the plants growing wild outside his front door.

You could be in Kyoto. You could be anywhere. One thing is for certain: You have left behind the city and all its mundane distractions.

Still in his late 30s, Kitajima has spent nearly half his life in the kaiseki kitchens of Kyoto. But Kamakura is his hometown: he grew up in the hills in the north of the city. Even so, he says it took him a year to find the right location, one he felt suitable for showcasing the skills he had mastered.

Neither of Kitajima’s parents had backgrounds as chefs. But he says he used to love watching and helping his mother as she prepared meals for the family — so much so that when he left high school some 20 years ago, he wanted to find out for himself what it might take to work in a local Japanese restaurant.

Two years later, he was clear that his path in life lay in the field of Japanese cuisine. Instead of entering culinary school, he decided to apprentice directly at one of Kyoto’s renowned ryōriya. After being taken to eat at a number of restaurants in the old capital, one in particular caught his imagination for its combination of elegance and rusticity: Wakuden. Straight away, he applied to work there.

Over close to two decades, Kitajima went on to work at each of the restaurants in the Wakuden group, eventually rising to become head chef at one of its best known offshoots, Tan, located in the city’s Higashiyama Ward. Having established a name for himself, it was time for him to realize his dream of setting up a place of his own back in his hometown.

He was under no illusions that it would be easy. Kamakura is distinctly different from Kyoto, not only in its culture and clientele but also its microclimate and the kind of ingredients available to him — the seafood, the produce from the local farmers, even the quality of the water.

Kamakura Kitajima specializes in premium seafood, like this deep-fried tachiuo (cutlass fish), from fishing ports on nearby Sagami Bay. | KOUTAROU WASHIZAKI
Kamakura Kitajima specializes in premium seafood, like this deep-fried tachiuo (cutlass fish), from fishing ports on nearby Sagami Bay. | KOUTAROU WASHIZAKI

Kitajima found help and inspiration from a respected local seafood broker, Hiroki Hasegawa, who is known for his expertise in the shinkeijime technique of keeping fish fresh by paralyzing their nervous system as they are caught. Working closely with this trusted middleman, he now sources his seafood direct from the fishing ports of Sagami Bay, along the coast of Kanagawa Prefecture.

“From the start my aim was to bring Kyoto cuisine to Kamakura,” Kitajima explains. “But thanks to Hasegawa and my other contacts, I can offer my guests dishes that they can only find here and that reflect this particular location.”

Dinner at Kamakura Kitajima is a leisurely affair, beginning each evening at 6 p.m. once all the diners have arrived and usually lasting a good three hours. In true kaiseki style, its composition will change constantly according to whatever is in season at the time.

One of Kitajima’s signature summer starters features slices of tokobushi (a variety of small abalone) and tōgan (winter melon), topped with a rich, savory jelly made by reducing the juices of the cooked mollusks.

This he serves in bowls packed in ice, each covered with a leaf of sato-imo (taro) glistening with dew and taken fresh from his garden. It makes for a sensational opening gambit, and the ensuing meal echoes that same precise yet relaxed interplay of refinement and down-home rusticity.

He will follow this up with a sequence of fish-based appetizers. First, perhaps, a bite-sized cut of nodoguro (blackthroat seaperch) deep fried as tempura, then covered with a small mound of vinegared sushi rice. Next, a few slices of sashimi — probably a whitefish, such as akahata (blacktip grouper) — beautifully complemented by the century-old art nouveau glass bowls from Europe in which it’s served.

And then, suddenly, the dining room fills with the sharp fragrance of scorching as Kitajima brings out a red-hot length of premium binchōtan (charcoal made from ubame oak trees) to sear the skin around a filet of kuromutsu (Japanese bluefish). As with the sashimi, this is just sliced and served as is, needing nothing more as seasoning than a sprinkle of sea salt or a drop of soy sauce and a dab of wasabi.

For his suimono (clear broth) dishes, Kitajima uses a very different level of technology. Because the water in Kamakura is harder and chalkier than in Kyoto, Kitajima has to first pass it through alkalizing equipment to produce dashi stock that meets his standards.

Kitajima grills his fish using an antique hibachi brazier made from Kamakura bori lacquerware. | KOUTAROU WASHIZAKI
Kitajima grills his fish using an antique hibachi brazier made from Kamakura bori lacquerware. | KOUTAROU WASHIZAKI

To taste it, you would never tell the difference. Made in the classic Kyoto style, using dried tuna along with katsuobushi (bonito flakes), it is clear but luminescent, wonderfully rich in umami.

Throughout dinner, Kitajima remains the focal point, engaging in conversation with his customers and pouring drinks to accompany each course. Besides sake and shōchū (Japanese distilled spirits), he has a substantial wine list on which Champagne features prominently.

He explains the ingredients and provenance of each course, along with the vessels in which he cooks and serves them. His ceramics include several pieces created by the legendary 20th-century gastronome and potter Kitaoji Rosanjin, who worked for a time in Kamakura and whose abandoned kiln was a favorite place for Kitajima to explore and play as a child.

Even more remarkable is the massive, vat-sized hibachi that his assistant hoists onto the countertop for Kitajima to prepare the yakimono (grilled seafood) course. Dating from the late-19th century and beautifully carved in the unmistakable local style of lacquerware known as Kamakura bori, this is more than just an artifact or conversation piece.

It is also Kitajima’s powerful but unspoken declaration of allegiance — just as much to his hometown and its distinct cultural legacy as to Kyoto and its profound culinary tradition.

Omachi 4-3-18, Kamakura 248-0007; 0467-73-7320; kamakura-kitajima.jp; dinner at 6 p.m. daily; set menu from around ¥22,000 (according to season); nearest station Kamakura; nonsmoking; major cards accepted; little English spoken