Why a genuine robata grill is the sharpest Japanese dining choice in London

You know when a meal is technically perfect, but it doesn’t quite haunt you afterwards?

The fish was pristine. The seasoning was correct. The service was smooth. And yet—no spark. No heat with meaning. No sense that the kitchen was doing something ancient and quietly obsessive.

That missing element often comes down to one thing: the grill. Not “a grill” in the generic sense. A robata grill: Japan’s fireside cooking tradition, engineered for precision, patience, and the kind of caramelisation that makes you pause mid-sentence.

At Aki, robata isn’t the entire menu. It’s the addition that changes how you order the rest of it, especially if you’re the kind of person who takes Japanese food seriously.

What a robata grill actually is

Robata is short for robatayaki, fireside cooking, historically done around an open hearth where heat is constant and the cook’s job is to be quietly exacting.

The point isn’t heavy smoke or loud charring. The point is controlled high heat, clean flavour, and surface caramelisation that arrives like a tailored finish: sharp edges, soft interior, nothing accidental.

If you love Japanese food, robata gives you a different register of pleasure than sushi or tempura. It’s not about delicacy alone. It’s about depth: heat meeting fat, marinade meeting flame, texture meeting restraint.

Why this matters at Aki (and why it’s the classier option)

London has plenty of Japanese restaurants. But the presence of a true robata grill is what separates the standard players from the ones fully honouring the cuisine’s depth. It is the defining element. The piece of the puzzle that proves a kitchen isn’t just assembling dishes, but mastering heat. Without it, you have elegance, certainly. But with it, you have distinction.

Aki’s approach is simple: robata as part of a bigger, more refined evening. You’re not coming to a loud, single-note grill room that peaks at the fire and has nothing else to say. You’re coming to a premium Japanese restaurant in Marylebone where the robata dishes sit alongside sashimi, sushi, and small plates… and where the setting is as considered as what lands on the table.

This is the difference: the robata grill here isn’t a theme. It’s an extra dimension. For Japanese food lovers, it means you can build a meal that moves – clean to rich, bright to smoky, delicate to decadent – without ever leaving the Aki world.

Robata dishes worth ordering (in the right order)

If you want the robata section to do its job properly, order it like a sequence, not a scattergun list.

Start clean, then let the heat build.

ASPARAGUS: brown butter hazelnut miso, yuzu sesame.
This is where you begin when you want proof that the grill can do elegance. Char at the edges, snap in the centre, a miso that reads as nutty depth rather than sweetness.

TENDER STEM BROCCOLI: satsuma yuzu wafu dressing, wasabi furikake.
The counterpoint. Bright, lifted, slightly sharp. The kind of plate that keeps the rest of your order honest.

Now you move into comfort with a twist only Japan would bother with.

BONELESS CHICKEN WINGS: garlic prawn, tomato natto miso, furikake.
This is not “wings.” It’s a study in savoury depth: the fermented edge of natto miso, the sea-sweetness of prawn, the grill doing what frying can’t—structure without heaviness.

CHICKEN & SPRING ONION YAKITORI: shiso, matcha salt, oak barrow aged soya tare.
A classic shape, finished with the kind of precision that makes you understand why people become obsessed with Japanese grilling in the first place.

Then the signatures, the ones you’ll mention later, casually, as if you didn’t plan your whole return visit around them.

CARAMELISED BLACK COD: shio koji den miso, nuka cucumber, Japanese herbs, yuzu dashi.
The robata grill’s best argument: lacquered surface, soft interior, savoury depth that stays clean. It tastes expensive in the way that has nothing to do with price and everything to do with control.

BLACK GINGER BABY CHICKEN: aged barley miso, onsen egg, fresh truffle, Japanese herbs.
It sits right on the line between comfort and theatre. The miso brings bass notes, the truffle deepens them, and the onsen egg gives you that soft, glossy finish you didn’t know you needed.

And if the evening is in its “yes” era, you finish with the dish that makes the room go slightly quiet for a second.

SUMIYAKI GRILLED CANADIAN LOBSTER: enrobed in Kobe fat, foie gras mochi, tomato lobster ponzu, Japanese herbs.
Sweetness, smoke, richness, precision. The kind of plate that doesn’t need a speech—just a second glass and someone across the table who appreciates what you’ve done here.

Robata, but make it a full Aki day (or night)

The best part about robata at Aki is that it plays well with others. You’re not trapped in a “grill-only” storyline where you leave smelling like a bonfire and regretting your choice of jacket.

This is the clever move: using the robata section as the heat line running through a broader, more civilised menu. It works just as well for a business lunch where you need to look like you know exactly what you’re doing (order the Black Cod, close the deal) as it does for a dinner that needs to impress without trying too hard.

Start with sashimi because you’re a purist. Pivot to the robata lamb because you’re human. Add a cocktail downstairs in our newly opened Kiyori Lounge because the night is young and your standards are high.

That’s what makes Aki the smarter option: the grill is exceptional, but it’s secure enough not to demand it be your entire personality.

Pair it with the wine list (because you’re not here for a single drink)

Robata asks for a proper pairing. Not because it’s complicated, but because it’s precise.

Char and caramelisation love structure in the glass. The rich, miso-lacquered finish of the Black Cod and the Kobe fat on the lobster demand a white with real presence, like the layered, spiced yellow peach of our Vincent Girardin Meursault Vieilles Vignes. Meanwhile, the smoky, savoury depth of the yakitori finds its perfect counterpoint in a supple, concentrated red, such as the Justin Girardin Santenay 1er Cru Pinot Noir.

Aki’s wine selection is a serious part of the experience, and the grill is the perfect excuse to explore it properly.

For Japanese food lovers, this is the upgrade

If you’re the kind of person who judges a restaurant by the details—the temperature, the timing, the way smoke is used like punctuation—robata is not a trend. It’s a tell. It tells you whether the kitchen understands restraint. Whether it trusts ingredients. Whether it can do power without noise.

And if your idea of a perfect London night includes Japanese cooking that feels both elevated and deeply satisfying, the robata dishes at Aki are the addition you’ve been waiting for.