Let Us Tell You What We Actually Do Here
People walk into Wakamama with a lot of assumptions.
Some assume we are trained in vegan cuisine. We are not. Because there isn't any vegan or plant based restaurant in the world that is doing what we can. We are mostly self taught and/or trained in classical Japanese and western kitchens where dashi was made from bonito flakes and the omakase progression was dictated by the day's catch from daily Market.
Others assume we are trying to "replace" fish. We are not doing that either. You cannot replace Otoro. You cannot replicate the exact brininess of uni. Anyone who tells you otherwise is selling something we are not interested in buying.
What we are doing is applying the exact same techniques—fermentation, aging, curing, smoking, and precision plating—to the best seasonal produce we can source. The ingredients change. The craft does not.
If you're a non-vegan reading this and you're skeptical, good. You should be. Skepticism is the foundation of a discerning palate. But if you care about fine dining as a craft—if you appreciate the difference between a broth that simmered for six hours and one that simmered for three days—then we would like to tell you what actually happens in this kitchen.
The Foundation:
72-Hour Dashi
Every great omakase begins with dashi. In a traditional sushi-ya, that means kombu and katsuobushi—kelp and shaved bonito flakes. It's the backbone of Japanese cuisine. It's also, obviously, not plant-based.
When we started developing the Wakamama menu, the dashi was the first problem we needed to solve. Not because we wanted to make a "vegan version" of something. But because a tasting menu without a proper dashi is like a building without a foundation. It doesn't matter how beautiful the upper floors are—the whole thing collapses.
Here's what we do instead:
We start with three varieties of kombu—Rishiri, Ma, and Rausu—each contributing a different layer of umami. To that, we add dried shiitake that have been aged for six months to concentrate their guanylate content (that's the compound responsible for deep, meaty savoriness). Then we introduce roasted and dried vegetables—burdock root, daikon figs and let the entire mixture steep at a controlled temperature for 72 hours.
The result is a broth that has the clarity of a traditional ichiban dashi but a depth that surprises even me. It's smoky. It's oceanic. It coats your mouth with the same satisfying weight as a good tonkotsu.
When non-vegans ask me what the "secret" is, we tell them the truth: time. Time is the ingredient most restaurants can't afford. We can, because we only seat 18 guests per night and we prepare for days in advance
Fermentation: The Umami Engine
If dashi is the foundation, fermentation is the engine that drives flavor in this kitchen. This is where the non-vegan skeptic usually starts to lean forward.
Fermentation is not a "vegan thing." It's a human thing. It's how we make miso, soy sauce, sake, kimchi, sourdough, cheese, charcuterie, and yes—the funky, complex flavors that make Japanese cuisine so compelling.
When we place a piece of koji-cured beet nigiri on your plate, you're tasting five days of enzymatic activity. The Aspergillus oryzae has broken down the beet's starches into simple sugars and amino acids. The result is a piece of nigiri that has the mouthfeel of lean tuna, the sweetness of a roasted root vegetable, and an umami depth that makes you stop mid-conversation.
That's not a "vegan trick." That's fermentation science, and it's the same science that gives Parmigiano-Reggiano its crystals and miso its soul.
Shio Koji
koji fermented with sea salt
for 3 weeks
Rich, sweet and fragrance of a mild cheese
Chickpea Miso
Chickpea ferment with koji
for 3 months
Creamy, savory, reminiscent of aged cheese
Shoyu Koji
koji fermented with tamari
for 3 weeks
Rich, caramelized, almost chocolatey
Koji Cured Carrot
Inoculated with Aspergillus oryzae, aged 1 week
Deep umami, subtle sweetness, faint nuttiness
Chili Yuzu Kosho
Yuzu zest, green chili, salt, aged 2 weeks
Bright, funky, spicy, citrus-forward
Pickled Vegetables
Rice bran (nukazuke) fermentation, rotated weekly
Tangy, complex, probiotic rich
and addictive
The Smoke and Fire: Why We Torch, Char, and Sear
Carnivores love fire. There's a primal satisfaction in a charred crust, a smoky aroma, a blistered surface. We understand this viscerally.
Fire does two things that no other technique can replicate:
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Maillard Reaction: The browning of proteins and sugars that creates hundreds of new flavor compounds. This is why a seared steak tastes different from a boiled one. We apply this to vegetables with the same intention.
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Smoke Penetration: Cherry wood, apple wood, and occasionally Japanese sakura chips. We cold-smoke beets. We hot-smoked tomatoes.
The miso-glazed eggplant course that non-vegans consistently rave about? It spends 25mins under heat. The miso caramelizes into a cream crust. The interior steams in its own moisture. The aroma that hits your table is indistinguishable from the grilled black cod course at a traditional sushi-ya.
That's intentional. Not because we are trying to "fool" you. Because fire is a universal language, and We are fluent in it.
What We Want Non-Vegans to Understand
If you take one thing away from this, let it be this:
Wakamama is not a restaurant for vegans. It's a restaurant for people who care about what they're eating.
The fact that everything on the standard menu happens to be plant-based is almost incidental. What matters is the dashi that took three days. The koji that took five. The plating that took years of repetition to execute without thinking.
We have served this menu to many chefs, to sushi purists, to self-described carnivores who walked in with their arms crossed and walked out planning their next reservation. The feedback is remarkably consistent: "I forgot I wasn't eating fish."
That's the highest compliment I can receive. Not because we are trying to erase the difference between plants and animals. But because we are trying to prove that technique transcends ingredient.
An Invitation
Seats are limited. The menu changes with the micro-seasons. The fermentation crocks are always full, and the dashi is always simmering.
If you're curious about what Japanese fine dining looks like when you strip away the seafood but keep every ounce of the craft, we will be at the counter.
If you're still skeptical, good. Bring your skepticism. Bring your questions. Bring your carnivore friends.
Just bring an appetite.
Located in Pasir Panjang, Wakamama is a vegan omakase restaurant in Singapore’s west, serving diners from areas like Kent Ridge, HarbourFront, and Buona Vista.