Kojin

Kojin opens with a small performance: a couch, a glass of sparkling wine, a few minutes to decompress before you're walked to a table where the first course is already waiting. From there you make no more decisions. That surrender is the point, and the tasting menu earns it — course after course built with a confidence that shows up even in the jokes, like the truffled-cheese starfish drowned in foam, a dish that's funny and precise at once.

Stick to that menu. The a la carte side of the house is a different restaurant, and a less disciplined one — we've had two different versions of the market fish come out of that kitchen, and both lost the plot on fundamentals a tasting-menu course would never miss.

That split matters, but it doesn't erase the case for going. The set menu is a genuinely guided, genuinely memorable meal, the kind of room where the choreography and the cooking are working toward the same thing. Michelin selected Kojin for its 2026 guide, which tracks with what the tasting menu delivers. Order it. Skip the rest of the card.