At Tohru in the Schreiberei in Munich, head chef Dominik Schmid is in charge of day-to-day operations, whilst Tohru Nakamura continues to cook alongside him whilst also carrying out his overarching duties as managing director. In the Restaurant-Ranglisten.de podcast, Schmid describes this division of responsibilities as deliberately clear-cut: The “day-to-day business” falls to him, whilst Nakamura additionally takes care of everything “that goes a bit beyond the kitchen”. The division was established from the outset as a “gentleman’s agreement”. This organisational clarity is a prerequisite for a kitchen that relies heavily on advance planning, product development and constant adjustment. Schmid describes just how labour-intensive working with producers can be. When it comes to vegetables in particular, the focus is on the long term. An annual cultivation plan is drawn up with the market gardener in Munich, which is not decided in a matter of minutes: “It’s a process that can take ‘three or four hours’ until the plan for the year is finalised.”

The development of new dishes follows a similar structure. For the first time, an annual plan has been drawn up for the menus, in which the broad seasonal outlines are already set. Nevertheless, the specific details remain flexible. Schmid emphasises that an autumn menu cannot be fully defined months in advance because one “doesn’t really feel it yet”. Creative influences from travel, restaurant visits and the restaurant’s own evolution only come together coherently in the moment. A simple guiding principle is key here: “We prefer to serve what we ourselves would like to eat if we were to come to the restaurant tomorrow.”

Seasonality and availability play a greater role than any abstract menu idea. Schmid cites winter fish as an example: the colder the water, the better the quality. That is why it is only logical to feature fish as the main course in winter. On the other hand, reality repeatedly forces a rethink. For a spring menu, the team had initially planned to serve venison, but then had to change their plans because they had overlooked the closed season. For Schmid, such adjustments are part and parcel of everyday life in an ambitious kitchen. The important thing is to remain spontaneous and creative enough to develop a new main course without compromising on quality.

In general, Schmid thinks of menus less in terms of rigid categories and more in terms of function. A dish might start with a product, a method of preparation or a flavour profile. Equally important is its position in the sequence. At Tohru in the Schreiberei, snacks and amuse-bouches are no longer formally separated from the main menu, as even the first course is regarded as a complete dish in its own right. An oyster at the start is not merely a small prelude, but, in its complexity, already part of the whole. That is why it counts as ‘a fully-fledged part of the entire menu’.

This results in a structure that, whilst based on fixed stages, can be adjusted in detail. If, during test cooking, it becomes apparent that a course is more robust or more delicate than anticipated, its position on the menu may change. Schmid refers to internal ‘working titles’ for specific roles: starter, fish course, main course. The sashimi course is deliberately served after a lukewarm starter, in keeping with Japanese omakase principles. It is intended to relax the palate and sharpen the senses for the raw fish.

A hallmark of the cuisine is the fusion of classic French fundamentals with Japanese-influenced approaches. This applies particularly to the sauces. Schmid explains that whilst one always has the classical background in mind – such as how a jus or a beurre blanc is constructed – one simultaneously seeks out other, deliberate ways to achieve the desired result. Thus, a ramen-style broth can form the basis of a sauce, which is then finished with butter. It is precisely in this that Schmid sees part of the restaurant’s signature style.

Acidity plays a central role in this. For Schmid, it is what makes a classic Michelin-starred menu lighter in the first place and keeps the palate alert. It cuts through the richness of butter, jus and crème fraîche without sacrificing their depth of flavour. “It remains on such a varied trajectory,” says Schmid of the guest’s palate, “that one is always actively able to experience the flavours as one tastes, without it becoming dull.” This approach also explains why the dishes do not feel heavy or filling, despite their intense concentration.

Biographically, Schmid and Nakamura share more than just their current collaboration. Both worked at the Vendôme and the Oud Sluis, albeit not at the same time. They met through a mutual contact during Schmid’s time in the Netherlands. Later, following a meal at the Werneckhof, Schmid applied for a position with Nakamura in the traditional manner. After stints as sous-chef there, a period as head chef and co-manager at the “Kaminzimmer im Staudenwirt”, and a season in Lech, he returned to Munich in 2023. The collaboration works so well because both share a similar visual language and, as Schmid puts it, understand each other almost blindly.

At the same time, Schmid describes the evolution of the cuisine since the Werneckhof years as a significant refinement. In the past, they had tried to showcase as much as possible: crisps, crunch, gel, emulsions, purées – at times an “absolute battle of ingredients on the plate”. Today, the cuisine is more focused, straightforward and precise. However, this reduction also raises the bar for technical precision. “The less there is on the plate, the more perfect, of course, what is on the plate must be,” says Schmid. There is therefore no room for “maybe” in the kitchen; anyone who has to ask themselves whether something is right already has the answer.

This conceptual rigour does not end with the main course. At Tohru in the Schreiberei, the sweet course is also treated as a menu in its own right. Instead of the classic sequence of pré-dessert, main dessert and petit fours, the menu features just a single collective term: “Okashi”. The idea behind this is to present the sweet course with the same attention to detail as the savoury. After a refreshing starter, small, independently conceived compositions are served on a tray before the actual main dessert arrives. This is intended to prevent the patisserie from being perceived merely as an afterthought. It is precisely here that an understanding of the menu as an overall composition is evident, in which each section has its own dramatic structure. (Summary of the podcast episode with the support of AI)