A ballet, a mesmerizing movement of a delicate duet.

There is no music in the background, just the humming of those dying neons. We are in an old place, at the center of a busy town, yet far from the noise and your typical night life. It is quiet. The bar only has 10 seats or so. Only the best seats. With the best view. It is a spectacle only for the knowing ones. No stranger comes here.

The bar sits at the 4th floor of an unremarkable building. Even the name is lame “new new bridge”. The ground floor is some sort of shopping mall like any other shopping mall. And not the most popular one around. The second floor is full of Chinese massage stations where some ladies are guarding the shabby doors, fixating their phones. The third floor starts to get empty, with some old electronic stands. When you reach the 4th floor, you start to wonder who would even climb that high. Well, no one apparently. Almost all the real estates are deserted. The sound of silence welcomes those lost guests with an infinite white walls.

Walking around, I see that old man operating a Go club for the ghosts. This time, he is cleaning a goban. All the pieces are immaculate, those tables are perfectly placed and centered. Maybe I should play there once. I thought of my father. Maybe I should play him here.

At the end of the corridor, only a small sign indicates the location. If you don’t know, you will miss it. But again, it is only for people who are in the know.

I don’t drink. I used to. A lot. And one day, I stopped. I realised that I didn’t like alcohol. I didn’t like the effect it has on me. And for a decade, I declined any sort of alcohol. I also never liked cocktails. I always thought the only good part of the cocktail was the non alcoholic beverage anyway. Of course I was wrong. But I couldn’t know before someone showed it to me.

Master Ito just finished his dance. He delicately pours the smooth citrus coloured liquid in a glass. Some foams hug those 2 large transparent rocks, the slice of lime miraculously disappears and only leaves its skin floating out. I look at it. What a wonderful drink. There is no sign of oxidation, no sign of impurity, everything in that glass belongs here. I smell it. So fresh, so clear, so nuanced. It is elegant. I taste it. I close my eyes. Everything dances now in my mouth. The spectacle continues in my mind.

Master Ito goes shopping every morning. Like the best French chefs or Japanese sushi masters, he selects the best ingredients for his clients, based on the season, and what his close network of farmers have. When I come here, I always ask what he recommends. Tonight, it’s apple, kumquat, strawberry, and tomato. Not the same tomato I had last summer though. Now, it comes from the south. We discuss fruits and vegetables. We discuss farming techniques. I try to speak as much Japanese as I can even though my friend speaks English. My phrases are broken but our passion for great things in life is universal. We share the same respect to nature and all those little things it brings.

My second glass is a Bloody Mary. I always order one here when it is available. The tomato is a tad different from last time. It is still rich, just different complexity. But the magic is the balance. It isn’t sweet, it isn’t bitter, it isn’t a soup, it isn’t a juice. It is nothing one simple word can describe but balanced. There is not one flavor that takes over another. It is a gymnastic of taste. Take one thing away and the entire construction breaks down. The level of dedication and study to make that drink is unbelievable. The master tells me about the shaking, don’t use a shaker but that cup, how important it is to use a specific size of ice cube to push the beverage out, how important it is to keep everything at the exact right temperature. Everything is important. Every detail counts. We talk about passion. The master tells me how he fears the new generation is all about business. What’s the fun if it is only business, he asks rhetorically. I smile. Of course I understand him. Of course he knows.

For my third one, I asked his recommendation. I’ll have sushi after this, so what would prepare my palate well. He suggests a skyball. I never heard of it. I’m merely a tourist in his arcanes. He takes a copper cup and shows it to me. The cup is 40 years old. It was a promotion for Smirnoff back then for the Apollo project. They created a drink that is basically some variation of a gin tonic, with a lemon.

Master Ito started in Sendai and got serious about bartending after he served his first gimlets to a client who said it didn’t taste like those in Ginza. So, the next day, he took a bus to Tokyo. After 5h, and with only a cocktail magazine in his pocket as companion, he compared all the different gimlets.

Master Ito serves me the skyball. I can smell it already. And the copper cup also gives another touch of freshness. The piece of lemon kisses the border and smiles at me. I drink it. It is fabulous. I thought gin tonic was a boring drink and like everything, mastery is never boring.

When he was just Daisuke Ito, he found one particular place that served an outstanding gimlet. It was made by Hidetsugu Ueno. Full of passion, he asked for advice, and ended up getting an apprenticeship at the bar. He spent 8 years training there.

As I’m finishing my drink, the master hands over another cup. On the house. This one is a classic gin tonic. So I can taste the difference. I thank him. It looks almost the same as the skyball. Only the lime at the center, like an island, gives a clue. I smell it. It is fresh. Maybe some bitterness. A bit different from the previous one. I taste it. The master is already smiling. He knows.

True experts never hesitate to share their knowledge. Master Ito answers my simple questions with extreme details. A joyful character who brings happiness in his craft. His charm is magnetic and brings my insatiable curiosity out. And the more I know, the more I appreciate his arts. This is the one man show of one great man.

As I leave the bar, I already start thinking about the next time. Maybe I should get that Pantheon, I pronounce it à la Française, a wonderful drink using Bénédictine liquor. Or maybe something with Japanese prune. I also want to experiment myself. I think about a list of places I should go looking for that Hermès orange bitters the master used in one of his drinks. I want to see how I can incorporate some of his techniques in my cuisine as well. Bring some of those tastes. Some of that magic.

The cold air of Tokyo hits me. Tomorrow, that wind will carry me back to California. I open my notebook and start writing down some thoughts when they are still fresh. I want to keep those emotions forever warm.