Yen's entrance is an arched wooden bridge over a pond — moss, stone, and the kawara-tiled roof of a Japanese tea-house. In noisy District 3, the restaurant opens like a pause: a small garden, water, and the smell of cedar.
The long cedar counter is the heart of the house — Japanese chefs stand there all service, forming every nigiri in front of guests. Warm shari, fresh wasabi, and fish cut to exactly that day's thickness.
The sashimi moriawase is the kitchen's greeting: hand-cut fish, fresh uni, arranged with no excess garnish — the sea's colors speak for themselves.
Upstairs is the sake bar with rows of wooden plaques overhead — and at lunch, the same kitchen serves eight listed lunch sets, 218k to 648k, for anyone who wants a taste of the craft without an omakase evening.
