Wine Bar Futami

Hidden in the quiet backstreets of Sangenjaya, Wine Bar Futami is one of those places that changes the way you think about wine. Step inside and the first thing you notice is the near-total absence of color. Everything—the walls, chairs, uniforms, even the coat rack—is black. Only the counter, a single slab of pale hinoki wood, glows softly under a focused beam of light. The effect is hypnotic: a dialogue between shadow and light, austerity and warmth. For a moment, you could mistake it for a private sushi counter in Nishi-Azabu rather than a bar in Sangenjaya.

The man behind this world is S. Takada, one of Tokyo’s most quietly influential sommeliers. Known for curating the wine lists of Sushi Namba and dozens of top restaurants across the city, Takada opened Futami in 2022 as his personal atelier—a space devoted to the twin poles of his philosophy, Burgundy and Champagne.
His signature experience, the Futami Set, unfolds like a meditation. Three glasses, three small plates, and a rhythm that feels choreographed. The first glass, Pol Roger Brut NV, arrives with a single slice of cucumber pickle—fermented naturally, shockingly full of umami. The pairing lifts the Champagne’s fruit and acidity into something rounder, almost poetic.
Next comes Louis Jadot Pernand-Vergelesses Les Combottes 2019, a white Burgundy with the scent of crème brûlée and roasted chestnut. It’s served with thick-cut pickled ginger, less sweet than the usual kind, its clean acidity sharpening the wine’s soft curves.

Finally, David Duband Nuits-Saint-Georges 2013, a Pinot Noir from a rainy year, paired with kanpyō—the dried gourd used in sushi rolls, here reimagined as wide, al dente ribbons. Its gentle sweetness and plant-like resilience echo the wine’s delicate tension, completing a dialogue between earth and craft.

There are no visible bottles, no shelves of trophies, no background music—just the faint scent of cedar, the sound of a cork being pulled, and the feeling that each pairing is a conversation rather than a presentation.
Wine Bar Futami isn’t about showing off labels. It’s about quiet precision, the kind that invites you to slow down and taste the space itself. In a city obsessed with novelty, it offers something infinitely rarer: serenity with depth, and a beauty that reveals itself only when you stop to notice.