Chef Shun Sato interview: What India can learn from Japan’s minimalist cuisine

Chef Shun Sato grew up in Sendai, a coastal city in Japan known for its fresh seafood, from sasa-kamaboko (a traditional fish cake) to salmon and tuna sashimi. Interestingly, Chef Sato got so tired of Japanese food that he ran away from it — training in French kitchens and only later returning to his roots with a whole new perspective. Today, Chef Sato runs CENSU and Enishi — two of Hong Kong’s most exciting modern Japanese restaurants. He honed his skills at restaurants across Japan, Australia, and New Zealand. As Executive Chef at Besuto in Sydney, he is celebrated for his approach to omakase.

The gastronomic journey began with ‘Whispering Greens’ — baby spinach wrapped in a creamy sesame purée that was nutty without being heavy. Then came the scallops, sliced thin and shimmering, dressed in a yuzu-based sauce. Every course came with a drink pairing: a crisp Sauvignon Blanc here, a cocktail touched with green tea there. One of my favourites was the zucchini blossom — impossibly crisp and light, its fragile crunch giving way to a silky port wine truffle purée. The fish — a perfectly seared sea bass — was laced with smoky eggplant sauce that lingered in a warm, almost nostalgic way.

The main course gave a choice: lamb or fish. I picked the lamb, and I’m still thinking about it. Smoky, juicy, and wrapped in a spicy, umami miso-chipotle (miso is a fermented Japanese seasoning and chipotle peppers are dried jalapeño) glaze that clung to the meat like a second skin. And just when you thought you were full, they served the Censu Dan Dan noodles — hand-pulled, chewy, laced with spicy sesame and shredded chicken. And then dessert, of course: the custard-like panna cotta laced with yuzu, bright and citrusy, with the kind of texture that made you pause between bites just to savour it.

In this interview with The Federal, Chef Sato shares how Indian and Japanese food cultures share a deep emotional connection, and how pop-ups like these aren’t just about showcasing Japanese food abroad, but also about creating new conversations between cultures. He also talks about wabi-sabi — the Japanese art of finding beauty in imperfection — and how it guides his cooking. Food, at its best, is a bridge — connecting people across languages, histories, and traditions, he says. Excerpts from the interview:

What story were you hoping to tell through the omakase experience in Delhi? And what did you want diners here to feel — not just taste — as they moved through it?

Every dish I create tells a chapter from my own journey — from childhood in my father’s izakaya (a type of informal Japanese bar or pub, similar to a gastropub or tapas bar) to the kitchens of Tokyo, to Hong Kong where CENSU was born. With this omakase, I wanted to bring a part of my soul to OKO in Delhi. The scallops opened the palate like a sunrise. The smoked eggplant with sea bass told of umami, fire, and patience. I wanted diners to feel a sense of travel — as if each course was a window into another memory, another philosophy. Not just taste, but feel nostalgia, curiosity, and connection.

You’ve cooked across continents… How do you see such pop-ups shaping Japanese cuisine globally, especially in cultures like ours where food is equally emotional, layered, and communal?

Pop-ups like these are dialogues. Japanese cuisine, especially in its finer forms, is often seen as precise and restrained. But when you bring that into a country like India, where food is layered with warmth, heritage, and hospitality — something magical happens. The formality melts into feeling. What I experienced here, with Chef Kinsu and the incredible team at The Lalit, was the merging of two cultures that both respect food not just as sustenance, but as a story. These collaborations shape the future — they’re not trends, they’re bridges.

The pairings (of the food with drinks) really stood out… How do you approach pairings when you’re building a menu like this?

I see pairings as poetry. Sometimes you rhyme, sometimes you disrupt. The Yuzu Bellini at the end was my way of saying, “Thank you for travelling with me.” I believe pairings should do what the dish itself cannot — they must either amplify, contrast, or elevate. But always in harmony.

Wabi-sabi is such a beautiful idea. How does that philosophy reflect in your food and your kitchen?

Wabi-sabi is everything to me. A slightly charred edge, a handmade ceramic bowl with an uneven rim, a sauce that lands imperfectly on the plate — these are not mistakes. They are human. I teach my team not to chase symmetry, but soul. We embrace irregularity because that’s where honesty lives. In the kitchen, it’s about grace under pressure, and finding flow even when things don’t go to plan. Wabi-sabi is the heartbeat of CENSU.

What does ‘simplicity’ mean to you at a time when fusion food and fast trends are everywhere? Can a simple dish still surprise people?

Absolutely. In fact, the simpler the dish, the more naked it becomes. There’s no hiding. A slice of perfectly cured sashimi with a single brush of soy and wasabi — if done with intention — can move someone more than a 10-element plate. Simplicity is restraint, clarity, and respect for ingredients. It whispers. And sometimes, that whisper leaves a deeper echo.

You grew up in your father’s izakaya… What did that early experience teach you about food, and how did it shape the chef you are today?

My father’s izakaya was loud, smoky, and full of laughter. It wasn’t fine dining — it was heart dining. I learned that food is not just on the plate; it’s in the room, in the warmth of the service, in the energy of the kitchen. That early exposure made me who I am — a chef who doesn’t just cook, but listens. I watched how grilled meats brought strangers together, how a bowl of ramen comforted tired souls. That’s what I want to recreate — anywhere in the world.

Indian and Japanese cuisines are both built on emotion. What do you think these two food cultures can learn from each other?

So much. Japanese cuisine can learn from India’s fearless use of spice and celebration of abundance. Indian cuisine can learn from Japan’s restraint, its celebration of seasonality, and the poetry of minimalism. But more than techniques, it’s about respect. Both cultures respect their ingredients, their rituals, and their elders. That mutual reverence makes for beautiful collaboration.

What makes a restaurant ‘alive’ for you?

A restaurant is alive when it breathes with its team and guests. It’s not the lighting or the playlist — it’s the soul. When staff believe in the food, when the energy flows from kitchen to table and back, when there’s laughter, curiosity, and moments of awe — that’s when a restaurant is alive. At CENSU, we curate those moments like a conductor with an orchestra. That’s the magic.

What excites you about the future of Japanese cuisine? Any new directions or experiments you’re working on?

I’m excited by the blend of tradition and innovation. Young chefs are revisiting kaiseki and street food with new eyes. I’m currently exploring fermentation in more nuanced ways — using koji in dishes that feel modern, but are deeply ancient at heart. I’m also interested in cross-cultural umami — finding ways to merge miso with ingredients like Indian jaggery or Italian bottarga (preserved fish roe/eggs delicacy, made from grey mullet or tuna roe — salted, pressed, and air-dried). The future of Japanese cuisine is not about dilution, but expansion. And it’s just getting started.

Omakase: A Japanese dining style where the chef designs a surprise multi-course meal, trusting the diner to leave the choices entirely to them.

Izakaya: A casual Japanese bar that serves drinks and small plates, similar to a gastropub or tapas bar.

Wabi-sabi: A Japanese philosophy that finds beauty in imperfection, transience, and simplicity.

Wasabi: A strong-tasting green root used in Japanese cooking, or a green sauce made from this.

Miso: A traditional Japanese seasoning made by fermenting soybeans, known for its rich, umami flavour.

Chipotle: A smoke-dried jalapeño pepper, often used to add heat and smoky depth to dishes.

Sake: A Japanese alcoholic beverage made by fermenting polished rice, often served warm or chilled with meals.

Yuzu: A tart and fragrant Japanese citrus fruit used in both savoury and sweet dishes.

Dan Dan noodles: A spicy noodle dish originally from China, often featuring sesame or peanut-based sauce, and minced meat or vegetables.

Koji: A cultured mould (Aspergillus oryzae) used in Japanese fermentation to break down starches in rice, barley, or soybeans — forming the base for products like miso, sake, and soy sauce.

Umami: One of the five basic tastes (alongside sweet, salty, sour, and bitter), umami is a savouryflavour often described as meaty or brothy — found in ingredients like mushrooms, aged cheese, tomatoes, soy sauce, and seaweed.