Finding the Real ‘Midnight Diner’

Every night in the darkest, most depressing depths of the pandemic, one TV show, which I watched over and over, helped get me through. Midnight Diner, a series on Netflix set in a Tokyo restaurant, became a healing balm and a reminder of the warmth of being around people.

The chef at this izakaya, referred to only as “Master,” cooks surrounded by a service counter on three sides, at which loyal regulars sit bathing in each others’ company. Perhaps thought of as a quirky cousin to the 1980s NBC sitcom Cheers, every episode tells a sweet, sad, or occasionally heartbreaking story. Master, a man of few words with a mysterious scar on his face, is like their conscience and a confidant, helping make sense of the world. Characters are kind, quirky, and loyal.

As a taxi glides dreamily through the Shinjuku neighborhood in the opening credits, Master gives a little voice-over: “When people finish their day and hurry home, my day starts … My diner is open from midnight to seven in the morning. They call it ‘Midnight Diner.’ Do I even have customers? More than you would expect.”

A little research confirmed that the izakaya in the show is wholly fictitious, yet I wanted to believe a place with that kind of food and that kind of feeling was real. On a recent trip to Tokyo, I set out to find one just like it.

“An Ideal in Your Heart”

I start seeing elements of what I hoped to find surprisingly quickly. I immediately find a postage-stamp-sized bar in my neighborhood where people are friendly and curious. At my first dinner out at an izakaya in the Nakano neighborhood, the food is surprisingly good for a casual spot: generous and unfussy sashimi, fish collar, smashed cucumbers with sesame, seared mushrooms, and an Asahi Super Dry or two. The busy, cheery waitstaff still takes the time to help me navigate the menu.

Barely 24 hours into my trip, I meet restaurant reviewer Mackey Makimoto at Toranomon Yokocho, a multi-restaurant project he has helped put together that’s like a food court in heaven. He’s sporting a short-brimmed fedora and is talking with a chef when I arrive with my fixer and translator, Mai Nomura. Over fried chicken, grilled sardines, fried oysters, and fried tofu, we bond over a love of Midnight Diner, but my first real question for him is whether a place like that exists.