It looks like you are using an ad blocker.

To enjoy our content, please add the Japan Times to the list of sites approved by your ad blocker.

Thank you for supporting our journalism work.

New York-In the East Village of New York in the autumn afternoon, the sun sets on the dirty sidewalk. Below are the old red brick buildings with black fire escapes on the facade. The three boys tried to identify the flags hanging on the wooden shed of the roadside restaurant. In the street, a group of people sipped matcha lattes on small metal-framed tables.

The front door of one of the buildings opened and Bon Yagi rushed out-past the crowd drinking tea in the shop he owned, past the small empty wooden table of the sake bar he also owned, and then past the corner at the end of the bank block . A true New Yorker, his steps are brisk and his eyes are focused.

The 73-year-old Yagi is the head of the TIC Restaurant Group and has a quiet but inestimable influence on how New Yorkers understand and consume Japanese cuisine. Shuji Yagi, born in 1948, came to the city in the mid-1970s and opened his first Japanese restaurant "Hasaki" (named after his hometown of Hamasaki, Ibaraki Prefecture) in 1984. Affordable sushi is sold among people, Ukrainian diners 24 hours a day.

"Every time you meet him on the street, he wants to stop and ask how your business is," Rick Smith said. He and his wife Hiroko Furukawa opened a special Qing Hotel Sakaya in East Ninth Street in 2007. "He has always been interested in our way of doing business."

Today, Yagi has 10 branches, most of which are located on East Ninth Street and Tenth Street between First Avenue and Third Avenue-a typical East Village neighborhood, lined by third wave coffee shops, bohemian restaurants and Japanese wholly-owned restaurants, bars, vintage clothing shops and barber shops. Unofficially, these streets are called the "Japanese Town" or "Little Tokyo" of New York-and Yagi is the unofficial mayor.

People walk past the soba noodles in front of the curtain, which is one of Bon Yagi's many Japanese restaurants in the East Village of New York. | SPENCER COHEN A roundabout journey

Yagi’s hometown Hazaki is located on the peninsula between the Tone River and the Pacific Ocean. The waters there are rich in sardines, mackerel, barracuda and Sanma (Pacific saury). There are too many sardines, and his parents use them as fertilizer.

"I grew up looking at the sea," Yagi said, adding that as a child, he imagined swimming across the Pacific to Hawaii or the continental United States. He spent his summer in the river and the ocean, bathing in the sun on the coast.

When traveling to Kyoto with his father who collected battery boxes from all over Kanto, Yagi was called "Bon Bon". His father started using this nickname when they returned home, and the name "Bon" has always existed. But when Yagi was four years old, his father died and his mother took care of the five boys alone. That was when "life changed".

At the age of 15, Yagi took a preparatory course at the Etajima Naval Academy-"I want to accept some discipline," he said. A year later, he returned home to attend a regular high school to prepare for university, but Yagi was late for the entrance examination of the University of Tokyo and missed the opportunity. "So I told my mother,'Can I use this money to travel to the U.S.?'"

In the months before he left, he worked as a waiter at the First Hotel and a driver at Zama Camp, a US military base, where he practiced English and drove large American-made officers to and from Tokyo Cadillac. When going out at night, Yagi pretended to work for their translator and drank for free in bars and clubs; in the base store, he bought the popular Marlboro and gave it to his friends.

At this time, Yagi met two American soldiers, Louis and Small, and took them to Hazaki's bathhouse (public bath).

Yagi boarded a ship bound for San Francisco in October 1968 with only $500 and a passport with his name on him. Once in California, he sent the second half of the ticket-the ticket back to Japan-to his mother, and then took a Greyhound bus to Philadelphia, where Small's parents picked him up and took him to the At home in Germantown, Germany. Northwest of the city.

In Philadelphia, Yagi met Rocco, the "Mafia Italian", who came to German City every week to collect gambling money and introduced Yagi to a halfway house, where he started working as a dishwasher in the kitchen.

After traveling in the United States and abroad, Yagi returned to Japan in 1974, where he sold metal name-shaped brooches on the street. He couldn't find a job: When applying for a position, he could not name the Prime Minister of Japan.

"They failed me," he said. "I failed the exam. (I thought)'Japanese society doesn't want me.'" So, in 1976, he returned to the United States.

The scaffolding facade of Piazza San Marco. Through the building, you can see the blue sign of Kenka, an underground izakaya bar. | SPENCER COHEN East Village Attitude

"Do you know why I settled (East Village)?" Yagi asked. He said that because of the church of St. Mark, and because it was the site of the tomb of the infamous "Black Ship" Brigadier General Matthew Perry who arrived on the coast of Japan in 1853.

St. Mark's Church has been standing on 10th Street and Second Avenue since it was built in 1799, as the backbone of the building. It withstood the historical evolution of the region as Kleindeutschland or "Little Germany" in the late 19th and early 20th centuries; the arrival of Ukrainians, Poles, Russians and Italians a few decades later; when it was the 1970s and 80s The center of punk and art; and still exists today.

In 1976, the East Village was full of local crimes and abandoned buildings, but it was also a thriving art venue.

"You must have seen punk rock that originated in this area. At that time you saw a lot of galleries," said Andrew Berman, executive director of the non-profit Greenwich Village Historical Preservation Society.

For Yagi, the East Village became a rugged place in New York that he could call home. "The whole place is like a war zone," he said. You cannot leave clothes unattended in the laundromat. Yagi learned hard and found his lost clothes on the street; he knew they belonged to him because the Japanese brand was written on the front.

Together with his childhood friend Wakayama Kazuo who arrived six months later, Yagi managed to open a vegetable wholesale store, live in the pedestrian streets of Sixth Avenue and Eighth Street, and store the remaining agricultural products in the stairwell on the third floor outside his apartment.

In 1980, Yagi opened a 24-hour restaurant called 103 Second Avenue to cater to creative people living in the easternmost "Alphabet City" of the area. The decoration is simple and sparse. Jean-Michel Basquiat, John Belushi and Madonna are regulars; Keith Haring paints on the black bathroom wall. "A very good canvas," said Yagi, who later reported on the work.

Given that the neighbourhood is known for its punk and avant-garde, there are few Japanese restaurants—according to the food critic Robert Sietsema in The Voice of the Country, there were only Mie and East Sapporo in 1983. Although the "sushi boom" started in the United States in the 1980s, most Japanese restaurants in the city that sell sushi are clustered in luxurious high-rise offices in Midtown further north.

"We don't need high-end midtown restaurants," said a letter to Yagi from nearby residents in 1984. He is about to open a small underground sushi restaurant Hasaki on Ninth Street. In the East Village, you can eat pizza while standing, or have dumplings at the old Ukrainian restaurant Veselka on Ninth Street and Second Avenue. You didn't eat raw fish on rice-that was for the banker.

Despite this, Hasaki thrived. Sushi is cheap and fresh. "I hope my customers enjoy Japan," said Yagi, which is his mantra to this day.

Soon, Yagi opened a few more restaurants, especially the decibel in 1993. This shop is located across Hazaki Street and is said to be the first sake bar in New York. The entrance is easy to miss. The rickety metal staircase leads to a metal door with stickers and graffiti. The door leads to a dark bar. The walls are covered with graffiti and ink and images of Mount Fuji. Today, the decibel is considered a relic of the old East Village, which is the anchor point of the 9th Street, helping to lay the foundation for the Yagi restaurant empire.

Bon Yagi is in his office. Behind him is a mikoshi (portable shrine) used for the Higashimura Japan Festival that he has held since 1990. SPENCER COHEN leads the trend

Yagi's adventure formed the backbone of the booming "Little Tokyo", which expanded from a few Japanese shops and restaurants to many in the 1990s.

Take Stuyvesant Street, which extends from Third Avenue to East Ninth Street, for example. It has now become a miniature center of Japanese culture: Angel's Share opened in 1994 and introduced Japanese bartending to New Yorkers. In the same year, Panya, a self-proclaimed "European-Japanese" bakery, began serving rice balls and pastries next door. The Japanese supermarket Sunrise Mart followed closely behind.

Daniel H. Inouye was a doctoral student in history at New York University. He visited Sunrise Mart for the first time in the 1990s. Inoue is now a lawyer and visiting scholar at New York University, and he has spent most of his academic career studying the Japanese community in New York.

"In the 90s, you started to see more Japanese students or people who recently graduated from New York University," he said. "Some of them settled down in the 9th Street and 8th Street apartments in that area. I think that's when it really started to develop." Although the East Village has never developed like other ethnic settlements in the entire city A wealthy, multidimensional community of expats and immigrants, but it does flourish as a center of Japanese food and culture.

"Something like Mart... definitely shows that this'little Tokyo' is becoming bigger, more fulfilling, and has expanded to more than just a few good restaurants," Berman said.

But according to Yagi, Japanese tourists often think this neighborhood is unsafe. "Workers, business Japanese, they didn't come to decibels because the Japanese government said (the area) was too dangerous,'Don't go.'" So in 1996, he was in the basement of an office building near Midtown Central Station.

Nevertheless, yakitori restaurants and ramen bars have gradually opened in Piazza San Marco. The center of punk is increasingly intertwined with Japanese restaurants and shops, such as Kenka, a camping izakaya bar Umeki Yuji that opened above his vintage clothing store Search and Destroy. The windows are filled with dolls, skeletons, and even There is a Mickey Mouse.

Yagi has been working silently all the time. At each opening, he will introduce new Japanese cuisine to New Yorkers, whether they know he is behind the scenes or not. In 2000, unable to find his favorite ramen, he opened Rai Rai Ken, selling "Tokyo Ramen" before the New York ramen boom; in 2000, he opened Otafuku, a small street snack selling takoyaki and taiyaki Stall; In 2013, he created Hi-Collar, a kiss cafe during the day and a sake bar at night, and it has become a frequent visitor to the community. "Enjoy Japan without a ticket" is still the company's motto.

The growing appeal of Japanese cuisine in the 2000s accelerated the transformation of the community. With Yagi’s approachable Japanese cuisine, Higashi Village has become a destination for delicious and fashionable foods in Japan and other Asian countries. Ramen chain Ippudo opened its first international store in the area in 2008; Michelin-star dim sum chain Tim Ho Wan opened a branch in 2017; the city’s bubble milk tea craze took root nearby, catering to NYU’s booming China Student groups.

"I think you can say that (East Village) is very different from the past in many ways," Berman said.

In early October, I met Yagi in his office, near his restaurant. He was wearing a suit and a blue buttoned shirt. He wears a bracelet on his right wrist, and a small metal pin of Falun is inserted into his lapel. Hanging on the wall is a large photograph of Central Station and Japanese kanji paper. We were sitting at a long wooden table next to a real mikoshi, used for the East Village Japanese Festival, which Yagi has organized since 1990. At first glance, you wouldn't know that this is the 2019 Sun of the person who won Japan's famous Rising Medal.

"Now, my business is under a lot of pressure," he said. COVID-19 has hit New York restaurants particularly hard. At the height of the pandemic, Yagi’s premises and many locations throughout the city were temporarily closed; the industry has not yet fully recovered.

When TIC's restaurant reopened for takeaway only in the spring of 2020, his daughter Sakura Yagi helped run the business as the chief operating officer in recent years, and she brought meals to the hospital. "The most meaningful part is to remind us how resilient we are," she wrote in May.

Towards the end of our meeting, Yagi took out a green framed black and white photo of his parents. Even under the mask, his smile is clearly visible.

"Life is always like a roller coaster. So, when you stand high, I don't know when, but I must be ready to get down," Yagi said. "But then again, this is life."

In an era of misinformation and excessive information, high-quality news is more important than ever. By subscribing, you can help us report the story correctly.

Using your current subscription plan, you can comment on stories. However, before writing your first comment, please create a display name in the "Profile" section of your subscriber account page.

Your subscription plan does not allow comments. To learn more, please refer to our FAQ

The younger generation took all risks to overthrow the Burmese military government

Xi Jinping conveys the party's ideas to change the course of China

Chinese virus experts launched a severe attack on the "COVID zero" push

Basho Kyushu is full of charm despite the sluggish attendance

As COVID-19 reduces the number of passengers, JR East will cut train services starting next spring

Looking for the lost wolf in Japan

Is this mysterious beast — said to have been extinct since 1905 — still there? In the five-part series, we traced a long-lasting mystery that attracted the imagination of many people.

Sponsored content is curated and edited by JT Media Enterprise Division.

Copyright by Japan Times Co., Ltd.