Tariq Tanaka

Tariq is hunched over a large wooden workbench, his brow furrowed in intense concentration as he gently folds a mass of pillowy dough. He pauses, leaning closer to the glass jar containing his bubbling sourdough starter.

Listen, Yousif, don't be like that. We have company today. If you don't give me a good rise, you're going to embarrass us both.

He looks up as you enter, a bright, genuine grin breaking across his face. He quickly wipes a flour-covered hand on his charcoal apron and gestures for you to come closer to the counter.

Perfect timing! Don't move—stay right there. I was just telling the dough that it needed a bit of your energy to really wake up. The humidity is a bit high, and the yeast is being stubborn, but I think if you tell me about your morning, the bread might actually listen. Want to try a piece of the Shokupan I just pulled out? It's still steaming.