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After entering a building that almost looks abandoned, tucked between Mr. Park and Man Man Unagi in the Grha Tirtadi Building, I finally got to check this off my bucket list, finding a hidden gem in Senopati.
Junsei Izakaya & Listening Bar, an authentic Japanese restaurant serving everything from simple Midori to delectable yakitori, proves that first impressions can lie. Stepping into the intimate space on the second floor, I was greeted by dim lighting, an open flame behind the grill, a sleek cocktail bar and a DJ spinning vinyl.
I wasn’t sure if I had entered a Japanese gastropub, a lounge or a sonic den. By the end of the evening, I realized it is all three, and it works.
As I made my way to the bar, I learned the night included an open bar. Lucky me, I got invited to a free media meal. I just hoped I’d stay sober enough to write an honest review.
Sip and tune in
Four cocktails were on offer, and I was tempted to try them all.
First up was Gypsy Woman, a blend of tequila shishito, lacto-fermented melon, strawberry syrup and citrus.
Then came Sushi, a mix of vodka, sake, rice-fermented syrup, citrus and egg white.
Next was Meat and Myth, a bold fusion of wagyu fat-washed whisky, smoked maple and house bitters.
My favorite? Umi No Ume. A dashi-shu tequila base shaken with Aperol, yuzu, ume and egg white, garnished with seaweed. Tangy, oceanic, subtly sweet—and addictive.
While sipping, I finally got the vibe. To my left, vinyls were displayed like I was in Urban Outfitters. In front of me, the DJ spun tracks as if lifted from my own playlist.
The music was a collaboration with Sounds Great, a Jakarta-based analog collective, dropping hits like “Be My Baby” by the Ronettes, “Never Can Say Goodbye” by the Jackson 5 and “For Once in My Life” by Stevie Wonder.
It was nostalgia piped through a setup that felt more Berlin than Jakarta. For a moment, I forgot about pollution and traffic jams.
I now understood why Junsei, which opened last year, recently rebranded as a listening bar. The concept fits, the dodgy entrance, the moody energy, the creative drinks.
I munched on complimentary chicken skin topped with togarashi, served with carrot and cucumber. Perfectly salted and a great match for the sweet and tart cocktail I was nursing. I had a good feeling, but I didn’t know the night had barely started.
Plates and palates
To really get Junsei’s eight-course journey, you have to understand that “joon-say” means genuine in English. The food here leans less on opulence and more on purity and play.
As the menu notes, the team brings out bold flavors from simple ingredients, using every part of the chicken, from beak to tail.
“Yakitori was created as a poor man’s food,” co-founder Zach Farr explains.
“After work, people would head to these stalls for dinner. Sellers kept prices low by using 100 percent of the bird, wasting nothing.”
Farr and Indonesia’s own Hadits Fahlevi, Junsei’s head chef, first opened the brand in London. Chef Hadits says 70 percent of the menu remains the same across both cities, but they have added liver and digestive tract here to cater to more adventurous local palates.
“For me, food brings people together,” Zach adds. “Unless you’re a vegan,” he chuckles.
The journey began with Crab Korokke, a rich croquette anchored by smoky ginger-scallion mayo and topped with caviar. Crispy, indulgent, gone too soon.
Next: Chicken Nanban. Marinated, karaage-style, filling. Comforting and familiar.
Then came the Midorizu Oyster, dressed in cucumber sauce and citrusy soy. Subtle, saline and not too sour. I always say yes to oysters, and this was no different. One just wasn’t enough.
The softness gave way to Wagyu Tartar. Buttery, gold-topped, served on a deep-fried leaf. Luxe in look, light in feel. I wasn’t full yet, a good sign.
Then: salmon belly on a skewer, with a warning, wasabi ahead. The spice was subtle, and the salmon’s juices wrapped in smoky koji oil. A satisfying crunch followed. Source? Still a mystery.
By the time the katsu sando arrived, my stomach was signaling surrender. But I pushed through. Between the fluffy bread was a shrimp-chicken hybrid layered with coleslaw and seaweed. Hands down, the best thing I’ve eaten between two slices of bread.
I usually don’t eat this much. The manager offered a shot of Sesshu Otokoyama as a palate cleanser. Gradually warming and not too sweet, it was the perfect intermezzo.
The skewer quartet
What’s coming next is the pièce de résistance: Junsei’s yakitori quartet doesn’t arrive all at once. It builds, like a setlist.
First, chicken tenderloin with wasabi. Mild, but dry. Then comes momo, chicken thigh with house-made tare. It’s juicy and sweet-salty.
The third, negima, thigh with leek and lemongrass kosho, breaks apart seamlessly in your mouth. The taste doesn’t melt but it has a clean citrus-laced finish.
Last, hatsomoto: the chewy upper heart, bathed in rich tare sauce. Not for the timid, but deeply savory and certainly bold.
Overall, momo deserves its crown as best skewer. It’s safe, it doesn’t overpower and it is a good company for a drink or two.
The final, sweet cabaret
Just as I’m almost all tapped out, dessert arrives.
A hojicha ice cream sandwich, wedged between crisp rice crackers. A sneaky burst of blueberry jam oozed from one side, throwing off my first bite in the best way. It’s cold, creamy and clever. Not heavy, a nice surprise.
By the end of the night, my verdict is clear. The food’s grounded, creative and tightly executed. The cocktails deliver without showboating. The soundtrack, curated with authenticity and thoughtfulness, isn’t a simple window dressing, it elevates the entire vibe.
And while the eight-course tasting menu might stretch your appetite, Junsei doesn’t overpromise. It delivers thoughtful hospitality with authenticity. You don’t need to love wasabi, own vinyl or chase omakase trends to enjoy it. You just need to show up hungry.
The omakase package comes in two choices: 14-course Tokubetsu or 10-course Hyojun. For the 14-course menu, you’ll spend around Rp 850.000 (US$52). If you’re more about the drinks, a 10-course might do you good at Rp 500.000. For both packages, you’ll get a choice of seasonal plates, yakitori selection, palate cleanser and more.
My final review? I’ll definitely go back, but next time, à la carte. Not because it’s not worth it, but because of my small stomach. Because I will opt for more alcohol, most probably.
Also, I’ll bring a friend. Eight-course solo is a personal triumph, but one better shared.
