Diners ladle sesame seeds onto noodles and sip sake that overflows from square wooden cups. Delicate rice paper lanterns, emitting soft light, sway to jazz piping from speakers. Framed calligraphy hangs from aged red brick walls.
This scene has changed little inside Omen, since opening in SoHo in 1981. Despite unassuming appearances, the Japanese restaurant is a beloved haunt for members of the art and fashion world. Patti Smith, Karl Lagerfeld, Terry Richardson, Stefano Tonchi, and Franca Sozzani all frequent this calming space, with rarely a gawking diner in sight. The creative director Doug Lloyd once referred to it as an “industry canteen.” And yet, the restaurant has escaped much pretension. Reservations are not hard to secure—we wager that you can call up and get a table for two tonight, with no arm-twisting.
Precisely why Omen became an institution is hard to pinpoint, but some of it probably has to do with the restaurant’s owner, Mikio Shinagawa, a serene man whose presence and signature silver hair lends to Omen’s atmosphere as much as anything. The one time when things can get a little more heated in the kitchen? During New York Fashion Week, which kicked off earlier today. With that in mind, Opening Ceremony sat down with Shinagawa, 59, about what it's like to run his unique establishment.
ALEX VADUKUL: How did Omen come to be?
MIKIO SHINAGAWA: Before I became a Buddhist, I was living in New York as a painter. My parents came to the city for the first time to visit me in the late '70s. I had shaved my head. They saw me wearing a black monk costume. After two weeks, they felt this community, this society, was so unhealthy. They felt American culture needed better food. So, after returning to Japan, they asked me if I’d like to run a restaurant here. [Editor's note: Shinagawa’s parents were restaurateurs in Tokyo] It was a dynamite question. I didn’t know. I was practicing Buddhism. But I eventually decided that everything we do in this life, even running a restaurant, can be practice in making life richer, brighter.
Regulars appreciate Omen’s almost Zen-like atmosphere. Is there a philosophy behind the restaurant?
My parents had two ideas which the restaurant was built on. One was to make this society healthier. And two, they wanted to introduce the idea of East meets West. They felt America had helped Japan after 1945. They wanted to return the favor in a way. They felt: “We learn so many things from the West. Maybe they can learn from the East.”
Despite its discreet atmosphere, some of Omen’s longtime regulars are influential members of the art and fashion community. Creative people seem drawn to your restaurant. What do you make of your customers?
The people that come here make this place alive. We are just the glass for them to get together. We do our best to make the best food we can. We have lots of love, and those wanting the love come here. What they experience here, it is all of us just communicating to each other. We learn and understand from each other. I appreciate people with beautiful minds. There is one thing I don’t like: ego. I respect egoless people. We hope to teach young people what is real. What is egoless.
You believe food can teach that?
We’re hoping so. What is real is what’s real. That’s the message in our statement. Fake is like makeup; it doesn’t last. True things, they grow heading up to the sky.
Part of your job involves frequently travelling to Japan.
This scene has changed little inside Omen, since opening in SoHo in 1981. Despite unassuming appearances, the Japanese restaurant is a beloved haunt for members of the art and fashion world. Patti Smith, Karl Lagerfeld, Terry Richardson, Stefano Tonchi, and Franca Sozzani all frequent this calming space, with rarely a gawking diner in sight. The creative director Doug Lloyd once referred to it as an “industry canteen.” And yet, the restaurant has escaped much pretension. Reservations are not hard to secure—we wager that you can call up and get a table for two tonight, with no arm-twisting.
Precisely why Omen became an institution is hard to pinpoint, but some of it probably has to do with the restaurant’s owner, Mikio Shinagawa, a serene man whose presence and signature silver hair lends to Omen’s atmosphere as much as anything. The one time when things can get a little more heated in the kitchen? During New York Fashion Week, which kicked off earlier today. With that in mind, Opening Ceremony sat down with Shinagawa, 59, about what it's like to run his unique establishment.
MIKIO SHINAGAWA: Before I became a Buddhist, I was living in New York as a painter. My parents came to the city for the first time to visit me in the late '70s. I had shaved my head. They saw me wearing a black monk costume. After two weeks, they felt this community, this society, was so unhealthy. They felt American culture needed better food. So, after returning to Japan, they asked me if I’d like to run a restaurant here. [Editor's note: Shinagawa’s parents were restaurateurs in Tokyo] It was a dynamite question. I didn’t know. I was practicing Buddhism. But I eventually decided that everything we do in this life, even running a restaurant, can be practice in making life richer, brighter.
Regulars appreciate Omen’s almost Zen-like atmosphere. Is there a philosophy behind the restaurant?
My parents had two ideas which the restaurant was built on. One was to make this society healthier. And two, they wanted to introduce the idea of East meets West. They felt America had helped Japan after 1945. They wanted to return the favor in a way. They felt: “We learn so many things from the West. Maybe they can learn from the East.”
Despite its discreet atmosphere, some of Omen’s longtime regulars are influential members of the art and fashion community. Creative people seem drawn to your restaurant. What do you make of your customers?
The people that come here make this place alive. We are just the glass for them to get together. We do our best to make the best food we can. We have lots of love, and those wanting the love come here. What they experience here, it is all of us just communicating to each other. We learn and understand from each other. I appreciate people with beautiful minds. There is one thing I don’t like: ego. I respect egoless people. We hope to teach young people what is real. What is egoless.
You believe food can teach that?
We’re hoping so. What is real is what’s real. That’s the message in our statement. Fake is like makeup; it doesn’t last. True things, they grow heading up to the sky.
Part of your job involves frequently travelling to Japan.