A six-table izakaya in the 1st arrondissement where the menu is scrawled on paper lanterns and the chef-owner still hand-pulls his own noodles at 1am. Expect smoky yakitori, creamy tonkotsu ramen, and a crowd that skews heavily Japanese—office workers decompressing with shochu, solo diners at the counter, and the occasional chef from a nearby Michelin spot eating off-duty. No reservations, cash only, and the door stays locked until someone inside notices you knocking.