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Restrooms say a lot about a restaurant. Especially those with charcoal-infused floss picks, hand lotion, three flavors of mouthwash, black toilet paper, and a $485 Le Labo diffuser.

To my delight and amusement, I found these amenities and more in the genteel washroom at Showa, which quietly debuted in March with a Japanese tasting menu. Opening the restaurant was a decade-long dream for the owners, maître d’ Joe Chang and Japan-born chef Koji Endo. The former says their luxurious WC was designed with intention: “It tells the customer everything about the restaurant.” 

Modeled after restaurants in Japan that are dedicated to the art of breaded, fried food, Showa bills itself as “San Francisco’s premier tonkatsu specialty restaurant.” However, of the 12 courses on the $150 tasting menu, only four are katsu — a direct result of feedback on the opening lineup, which included eight fried bites. 

With just 18 seats and a front-of-house team consisting of Chang and one server, Showa offers a single seating per night. The entire dining room receives each course simultaneously. The meal starts with sakizuke, small bites akin to an amuse-bouche. A lacquered tray holds a tender cube of dashi-simmered pumpkin, a salad of tofu and green beans, a seared Hokkaido scallop, and a Japanese riff on caprese — all of which await guests at their tables when they arrive. Chang says this is part of the kaiseki dining tradition. The appetizers are intended to be simple and light, enjoyed alongside a glass of wine or sake. “It’s not about how much you consume but about the flavor of each bite,” he explains. 

You’ll know you’re approaching the best part of the meal when Chang lays out an array of accouterments, like an individual mise en place that includes tiny ramekins of tsukemono, or Japanese pickles, and a never-ending bowl of light-as-snow shredded cabbage. For dipping, a sweet-and-tangy sauce made with peaches, mango, and figs is meant to be seasoned with toasted sesame seeds and horseradish. Finally, Chang presents a bowl of claypot rice and delicate, umami-rich dashi, brewed in a siphon coffee maker to ensure the liquid stays under 90 degrees in order to achieve the cleanest flavor.

Finally, the katsu courses begin flying out of the kitchen in rapid succession, hot from the fryer and glistening in oil, each bite placed on a mini wire rack to preserve the exquisitely crunchy texture. The art of katsu requires achieving a stark juxtaposition between the crisp interior and juicy inside, and Endo nails the contrast in every bite. 

To start, an unexpectedly light bite of bluefin tuna, blush-pink and rare inside, arrives, topped with briny caviar and wrapped in cool bib lettuce. Next comes a Dungeness crab croquette encased in breadcrumbs made of dehydrated rice that, when fried, stay light and extra crispy. A patty of Iberico pork and Wagyu beef comes next, wrapped tightly in a thin layer of short-grain panko mixed with parsley and cilantro. And the apex of the meal — a skewer of dry-aged Duroc pork — is encased in long-grain panko made from a special low-sugar, high-yeast loaf baked by Craftsmen and Wolves, which allows the bready threads to withstand a longer dip in the deep fryer.

By the time I’d reached the last course — a bowl of dashi and somen noodles so delicate they seemed held together by sheer force — I was both impressed and exhausted watching Chang zip around the dining room delivering plates, refilling drinks, and answering questions. Chang says he and Endo wanted to open a restaurant so they could “answer to no one,” allowing them to put the comfort of their customers and the sourcing of the highest-quality ingredients above everything else. 

Together, they made the meal one of my most exciting and soul-satisfying this year. 

Showa Le Gourmet Tonkatsu