About a 15-minute walk from Izukyu-Kawazu Station,
across the Kawazu River, in a quiet residential area,
you’ll find a small, tucked-away cafe:
Cafe & Records Delmonico’s.
Inside, the walls are lined with records.
Thousands of them—around 10,000, it is said—
collected by the owner, Takao, a devoted music lover.
“Do you know where everything is?”
When asked, he simply replies,
“Yeah… more or less.”
A moment later, music begins to play.
Before moving here, Takao ran a music bar in Shimokitazawa, Tokyo,
for about 16 years, while also working as a DJ.
He later relocated to Kawazu, his wife’s hometown,
and opened this café about eight years ago.
It’s a quiet town,
but that seems to be exactly why people come.
The name “Delmonico’s” comes from a single album
released in 1969 by The Fifth Avenue Band.
The band itself took its name from a historic steakhouse in Manhattan—
a place where people from different backgrounds would gather.
That same idea—of people coming together and feeling at ease—
shapes his bar and cafe.
In recent years, Japanese pop music from the 1970s and ’80s—
often called “City Pop”—has been rediscovered overseas.
Mention Tatsuro Yamashita,
and almost instantly, a record is pulled from the shelf.
Here, memories surface quickly.
Familiar sounds return without effort.
Visitors come from all over the world—
North America, Northern Europe, Taiwan, India.
Conversations move slowly, often through translation apps.
But once the music starts,
words begin to fall away.
Takao’s wife, Yumiko, prepares the food,
using healthy, local ingredients.
Her cooking is really good.
Simple, but quietly satisfying.
The café is open for brunch and afternoon tea.
It’s the kind of place you might stop by
before checking in, or after checking out.
Or simply, a place you happen to find.
A slow morning walk through hidden streets and local stories.