Humpback a l'orange? A Michelin star for "Ganso Kujiraya"?

Well, thinking about it, probably not...

So today is the day. I shall be blogging LIVE from the front row on this day of high excitement and drama.  For Bibendum - that dilated Gallic champion of three-star obesity - has arrived for the greatest eating contest ever held.

Well, sort of. At 3 pm we will discover what those industrious gluttons, bon viveurs and..er...tyre salesmen have been keeping such a dark and mysterious secret. Finally, after decades of almost perversely avoiding the most eatery-intensive city on earth, the first ever Michelin Guide to Tokyo restaurants will be unleashed for the perusal of entertainment brokers, dating couples, and visiting heads of state.

It's incredibly tense stuff. The utterly irrelevant "controversy" has, of course, already begun. It's all tiresomely predictable cobblers - nonsense along the lines of  "who are these French to come here and tell us what is and isn't delicious?" versus "some of the best food in Tokyo is actually cooked by Frenchmen!" Yawn. Yes of course we care about what does and doesn't get stars - for big hitters like my pal Smitty at Blackrock it will be something of a religious experience. But in the end, the stars are probably going to be awarded to places we've all been anyway.

No. What is much more fascinating is whether Bibendum is going to be a little bit daring - especially just one day after the Japanese whaling fleet set sail with dreams of landing its biggest catch ever. After years of heartily recommending places in France that serve up the distended organs of force-fed geese and frogs whose legs are torn off while still alive, the big question-mark hangs over Michelin's view on whale-meat. Is the Michelin Man, in short, a true gourmet or has he drawn an ethical line in the sand?

Now, I think it's important to be clear about this. There is a serious possibility that if a whale meat restaurant is NOT included in the Michelin recommendations, the decision may be less political than straightforwardly culinary. Whale meat, let me tell you, is not actually that delicious. Held up against the pressed Canard au Sang of the Tour D'argent, a steaming bowl of blubber comes a fairly distant second. There's a reason so much of the annual "scientific" whaling catch ends up being dolloped-out to  octogenarians in old-folks' homes. Non-captive audiences tend to guzzle things that moo, cluck, oink or flap gills.

But that's hardly the point. Tokyo is one of the few major capital cities where you can sit down in a fancy restaurant and be served what is, in effect, an extremely rare delicacy prepared by extremely skilled chefs. As the definitive chronicler of world cuisine and fine dining, Michelin should at least consider guiding readers towards the best whale joint in town, and ignore the flak it would inevitably receive.

I am always struck by the intensity of passion on both sides of the whaling debate. Comments on one of my colleague's recent stories on the subject suggest the anti-whalers may have lost some sense of proportion. In the foaming mouths of, say, an Islamic fundamentalist, comments such as "torpedo Japanese ships", and "Is it time for another A-bomb?" would hint strongly at sociopathic dementure, brainwashing and a potential threat. When it's animal-lovers, we pretend that they are somehow "entitled" to this brand of homicidal extremism. (Oh and by the way, to those furiously calling for a boycott on Japanese goods, do some research beyond listing a handful of well-known brand-names. Be my guest. Stop buying Japanese and never use another hard disc, iPod, automobile of any brand, mobile phone of any brand, never travel in a ship or a plane, and never swing a golf club.)

The Japanese, meanwhile, have somewhat painted themselves into a corner - they quite reasonably reject foreign attempts to dictate their behaviour, but find themselves fighting a battle that wins little support from even the most avid Japanophile. France, incidentally, found itself in a similar position with its atomic bomb tests in the Pacific. Japan rightly points out that most nations on earth are guilty of slaying sentient or "cute" animals for food. I happen to find kangaroos quite entertaining, for example, because they look like big furry people with huge thighs. And yet, for all their screaming about the whales, I can happily tolerate the Australians hunting their national symbol for food without calling for atomic bombs to be dropped on Canberra.

At any rate. Some years ago, my beloved sister and brother-in-law were visiting Japan and had the best dining experience of their visit courtesy of a whale restaurant. They were  shopping in Shibuya and jet-lag had left them ravenous. Quite by accident, I left them at the door of Ganso Kujiraya, a whale meat specialist restaurant in the middle of Tokyo's most vibrant shopping district. My sister phoned me about 10 minutes later and passed the handset to the waitress, who asked me timidly: "I'm not absolutely sure that these two people are happy to be eating whale, and I'm afraid that's all we have on the menu. May I send them somewhere else?"

I agreed, and my sister was sent by the good people of Kujiraya to an absolutely fantastic mainstream Japanese restaurant, fully deserving of at least one Michelin star.