Izakayas are the tapas bars of Japan, a tie-loosening mix of alcohol and eats in an atmosphere of buzz and banter. It’s fair to say nobody at Kiko has read the brief.

A school friend of mine had a peculiar food foible. He would insist that his baked beans be served apart from his sausage and chips. Far apart, as in a separate bowl. This inconsequential tic lay dormant in my subconscious for years … until I had the dipping ramen (RMB 29-35) at Moon Concubine Izakaya. Noodles, pork, egg and nori in one bowl, soup in another. The menu warns that on no account should you add the soup to the noodles. Presumably doing so would usher in a reign of Akira-esque chaos. Or maybe it’s just something about dulling the texture of the noodles. Cleverly, the soup is thick and salty enough to ensure each dunking imbues a satisfactorily saucy coating. Lots of fun, but they also have regular ramen for you stick-in-the-muds.

Suzumei is to the phrase “best-kept secret” what Quanjude is to “tourist trap.” Just finding this tiny Japanese restaurant makes you feel part of an elite club. The reward? A wooden board plated up with beautifully carved raw fish, Jimi Hendrix on the stereo and a bottle of sake big enough to christen a warship.

It’s no secret that bars (and clubs) are still a fairly new invention in Beijing. Until as recently as the mid-1990s, Hard Rock Cafe was about the only place in town where a mixed drink didn’t mean tea leaves and hot water. Beijingers have traditionally done their serious drinking in restaurants, and most still do.

This elegant Japanese restaurant, a favorite of many Shunyi-residents, has opened a new branch in the heart of Sanlitun. The menu’s emphasis is on capturing the essence of quality ingredients, which in turn means higher prices. Each of the several small private rooms feature a teppanyaki grill as the centerpiece (hence the restaurant’s suitability for group dinners), and regulars give the entertainingly prepared (by a private chef) and artistically presented food high ratings.