🔥 Not gas. Not charcoal. The world's top food lovers are obsessed with cooking over firewood. A tiny restaurant in the mountains of Spain's Basque Country sparked a global revolution, climbing to #2 in the world rankings using nothing but flames and wood. Now Japan's countryside — with its renovated farmhouses and local ingredients — is emerging as the next frontier of this ancient-meets-modern culinary movement.
What Is Wood-Fire Cooking? And Why Is It Different?
Wood-fire cooking — known as maki ryōri in Japanese — is the art of cooking food using flames from burning logs of natural wood. While it may sound similar to a backyard barbecue, the technique is worlds apart from grilling over charcoal or gas.
Charcoal is made by burning specific types of wood at extreme temperatures. It delivers consistent, stable heat, but quality depends heavily on the producer's skill and source materials. Firewood, on the other hand, can come from local forests — split, dried, and ready to use. This means the very land where the ingredients grow also provides the fuel that cooks them.
Different wood species create distinct flavor profiles. Cherry wood (sakura) adds a delicate sweetness, while oak (nara) imparts a robust, earthy aroma. The rising steam and shifting flames create flavors that no modern kitchen appliance can replicate. Each dish becomes a one-of-a-kind creation shaped by fire, wood, and terroir.
The Restaurant That Started It All: Asador Etxebarri
The global wood-fire cooking boom traces back to a single restaurant: Asador Etxebarri, tucked away in the village of Axpe in Spain's Basque Country.
Chef Bittor Arguinzoniz grew up without electricity or gas, watching his mother and grandmother cook over the family hearth. Entirely self-taught, he has spent over 30 years mastering the art of flame-grilled cuisine in this same tiny village.
What makes Etxebarri extraordinary is its total commitment to fire. Every dish — from grilled baby eels and aged beef chops to smoky ice cream for dessert — is touched by wood-fired flames. Arguinzoniz designed his own custom grills, each using a pulley system for millimeter-level height adjustments. He selects different woods for each dish: holm oak for meats, vine shoots for seafood, orange wood for lighter fare.
This obsessive dedication has earned Etxebarri the #2 spot on The World's 50 Best Restaurants list in both 2024 and 2025, along with the title of Best Restaurant in Europe in 2025. The 14-course tasting menu costs around $310, and roughly 70% of guests are regulars who return once or twice a year. Reservations open just three times annually and sell out in minutes.
Why Wood-Fire Cooking Is Trending Now
The rise of wood-fire cooking reflects a broader shift in global gastronomy.
The 2000s were dominated by molecular gastronomy — think science-lab techniques and foam-topped plates — pioneered by Spain's El Bulli. The 2010s saw the New Nordic cuisine wave led by Denmark's Noma, which emphasized foraging and fermentation. Now, in the 2020s, the pendulum has swung toward something far more primal: fire.
After decades of increasingly complex and technology-driven cooking, the world's best chefs are returning to humanity's oldest culinary method. It's both ironic and inevitable.
Food critics describe the appeal as the "beauty of imperfection." The flickering flame, the unique scent of each wood species, the subtle changes from temperature and humidity — these uncontrollable variables make every plate irreplicable. In an era of precision and automation, that unpredictability has become the ultimate luxury.
From Ekstedt in Stockholm (where everything — even boiling water — is done over firewood) to emerging fire-focused restaurants across South America and Asia, the movement has spread far beyond one Basque village. Wood-fire cooking is no longer a trend; it's becoming a new standard in haute cuisine.
Japan's Unique Take: Where Fire Meets Local Gastronomy
Japan's wood-fire cooking scene has evolved along a distinctly different path from Europe's, shaped by both regulation and geography.
In major cities like Tokyo, fire prevention codes make it extremely difficult for restaurants to use firewood. Special exhaust systems and ductwork are required, and in high-rise buildings, it's nearly impossible. But this limitation has turned into an advantage.
Instead of urban fine dining rooms, Japan's wood-fire restaurants have flourished in the countryside — in renovated kominka (traditional farmhouses), hillside retreats, and one-building restaurants surrounded by nature. This dovetails perfectly with Japan's "local gastronomy" (rōkaru gasutoronomi) movement.
The term was coined in 2017 by the lifestyle magazine Jiyujin to describe a philosophy of expressing a region's climate, history, and culture through cuisine — while building sustainable economic systems connecting restaurants, agriculture, and local industry.
Wood-fire cooking is a natural fit for this philosophy. The wood comes from local forests. The ingredients come from local farms and waters. The fire, the fuel, and the food are all rooted in the same land, creating dishes that simply cannot be replicated anywhere else.
In Nagano Prefecture, for example, the restaurant "song" in Komoro uses locally harvested larch wood to fire-cook regional specialties like Miyuki pork and Saku carp. The chef trained in Spain's wood-fire techniques before returning to his hometown to reinterpret traditional dishes through flame — a perfect fusion of global knowledge and local soul.
Japan's Deep History With Fire and Food
Wood-fire cooking isn't new to Japan — it's a return to roots. Before the widespread adoption of gas stoves, Japanese households cooked rice over wood fires in traditional hearths called kamado. An old Japanese saying — "hajime choro choro, naka pappa, akago naitemo futa toru na" — is a mnemonic for achieving perfect rice by carefully managing the firewood's heat: start with a gentle flame, build it up, and never lift the lid, even if a baby cries.
The irori — a sunken hearth built into the floor of traditional homes — served as both a cooking station and the family gathering spot. Fish, mountain vegetables, and mochi were slow-grilled over the embers while family members gathered around for warmth and conversation. Fire wasn't just a cooking tool; it was the center of domestic life and human connection.
This deep cultural relationship with fire gives Japanese wood-fire cooking an emotional dimension that goes beyond technique. Today's maki ryōri restaurants are, in a sense, reviving something that was always at the heart of Japanese living.
Why the World's Wealthy Are Heading to Japan's Countryside
International food lovers — particularly wealthy travelers — are increasingly drawn to Japan not for its big cities, but for its rural dining experiences. According to gastronomy experts, food has become the #1 reason affluent travelers visit Japan, and their interest is rapidly shifting from Tokyo and Kyoto to remote regions.
Wood-fire cooking is at the center of this shift. Watching a chef grill local vegetables over flames from nearby mountain wood, dining inside a 100-year-old farmhouse with rice paddies stretching to the horizon — this is an experience money can't buy in any city.
As Kotaro Kashiwabara, president of the Japan Gastronomy Association, puts it: wood-fire cooking is not just a cooking method — it's a deep dialogue with a region's nature, history, and culture. Food is becoming the gateway through which the world discovers Japan's hidden countryside — and the ancient magic of fire is leading the way.
Does your country have its own tradition of cooking with wood fire? From Argentine asado to South African braai, Turkish mangal to American barbecue pit culture — we'd love to hear about the fire-and-food traditions where you live. Tell us in the comments!
References
- https://news.yahoo.co.jp/articles/fc6aa31613dc49c80a65ae517ce6d966e8e6fd0b
- https://www.elle.com/jp/gourmet/g69862530/takefumihamada-2601/
- https://www.elle.com/jp/gourmet/gourmet-restaurants-events/g70181732/japan-gastronomy-trend-2602/
- https://www.theworlds50best.com/the-list/Asador-Etxebarri.html
- https://www.fujingaho.jp/gourmet/gourmet-other/a68125235/japan-gastronomy-8-nagano-251008/
Reactions in Japan
Went to a wood-fire restaurant in Nagano last year, and it's on a completely different level from gas. The way larch smoke clings to the venison is beyond words. If you're tired of city French restaurants, this is where you need to go.
It's been 5 years since I switched to wood fire as a chef. Took me 2 years to learn to control the heat. But this instability is what makes it irresistible. No two dishes are ever the same — and I think that's the ultimate luxury.
Happy that wood-fire cooking is trending, but the access from Tokyo is tough. Honestly not sure it's worth a 3-hour trip one way. Wish there were more wood-fire places closer to the city center.
So it's another story for the wealthy. A $200 wood-fire course meal is totally unrealistic for regular people. If there's no way to enjoy wood-fired flavors more casually, this trend won't spread to the masses.
Our area had trouble disposing of thinned trees, but the wood-fire boom has given local timber value. A business delivering firewood to restaurants emerged, and young people are entering forestry. The connection between food and forestry is wonderful.
I wonder about the environmental impact of burning firewood. What about CO2 emissions and smoke? I hope people don't just consume this as a trendy thing, but also think seriously about sustainability.
The shock of visiting Etxebarri was unforgettable. Since returning to Japan, I've been covering wood-fire restaurants across the country. Japanese chefs fusing washoku techniques with live fire have an originality distinct from Spain or Sweden.
They call it a 'wood-fire boom,' but until the 1950s every Japanese home had a kamado hearth and cooked rice over firewood. Grilling fish on the irori was everyday life. This isn't new — we're just remembering what Japanese people forgot.
When I cook over campfire, I can really feel how different wood types change the flavor. Pro chefs taking that to the extreme is probably what wood-fire restaurants are. Gives me ideas for my own camping too.
Wood-fire cooking × renovated farmhouse × local ingredients. This could be the trump card for revitalizing depopulated areas. A Michelin-starred restaurant in the countryside creates ripple effects for lodging, transport, and tourism. Some regions are already seeing this happen.
Wine pairing with wood-fire cuisine is incredibly exciting. Basque txakoli and natural wines pair beautifully with smoky flavors. Even Japanese Koshu wine works surprisingly well. It's a real showcase for a sommelier's skills.
Wood-fire cooking has a strong meat image, but grilling vegetables over firewood brings out incredible sweetness. Turnips and long green onions can become the star of the show. I hope more places offer robust vegetarian menus.
To be honest, food smoked with firewood can sometimes mask the quality. Some places feel like they're using smoke flavor to cover things up. It's important to find restaurants with genuine skill, not just gimmicks.
Noto Peninsula has rich forest resources and seafood. The model of revitalizing regions through wood-fire cooking could work for reconstruction too. I'd love to see a system that attracts people through food and drives the local economy in Noto.
I supply pottery to a wood-fire restaurant. Dishes cooked over firewood pair beautifully with earthy, handmade ceramics. Pottery and wood-fire cooking are both 'art of fire.' I feel they connect at a deep level in Japanese culture.
For us Argentinians, cooking meat over wood fire is a weekend routine. Asado is a social event too, and some gauchos are very picky about wood types. The world is finally catching up. But Japanese wood-fire cooking includes fish and vegetables too? That's an interesting approach.
I'm a regular at Ekstedt in Stockholm. In the Nordics, we had a tradition of hearth cooking during long, dark winters, so wood-fire cuisine feels nostalgic. It's fascinating how similar this is to Japan's irori culture. I'd love to visit Japanese wood-fire restaurants someday.
Korea has charcoal BBQ culture, but cooking with actual firewood is fresh to me. I was skeptical about the taste difference until I actually ate it in Basque Country — it was a revelation. Designing dishes by wood species is educational for me as a chef.
Many households in rural India still cook with firewood. My grandmother baked naan in a clay oven with wood. It's strange seeing this become a 'luxury trend' worldwide. It's ironic that everyday life in poor areas becomes luxury for the wealthy, but I'm glad the culture is being revalued.
As a Texas BBQ master, smoking brisket over post oak for 16 hours is REAL wood-fire cooking. European fine dining just discovering this now? That's funny. But Japan's delicate approach genuinely interests me.
French traditional cooking included fireplace methods too, but modernization erased them. Since Etxebarri lit the spark, Parisian chefs are paying attention to fire again. Japan doing this in rural farmhouses echoes the French campagne spirit.
South African braai isn't just barbecue — it's a community ritual. Gathering around fire and talking is what matters. Japan's irori was the same, right? I think the real power isn't in cooking technique but in fire's ability to bring people together.
Wood-fired pizza places are increasing in Taiwan, but full-scale wood-fire restaurants are still rare. Japan's concept of 'cooking local ingredients with local wood' could be applied to Taiwan's hinoki cypress and indigenous food culture. Very inspiring.
As an Italian, I'd like to point out we've been firing pizza in wood ovens for centuries. Neapolitan wood-oven culture is UNESCO Intangible Heritage. But I'll admit Etxebarri expanded what's possible with fire beyond pizza.
As an environmental scientist, I'm concerned about PM2.5 emissions from burning firewood. One restaurant's impact is small, but if this booms globally, the air quality effects aren't negligible. This needs to be discussed alongside sustainable forest management.
Live-fire restaurants are multiplying in London's food scene. But the price points are so high that only wealthy Instagrammers can go. If wood-fire cooking is to become a real movement, it needs more casual formats too.
Japanese-American here. My grandparents were from Nagano, and old photos always showed the irori hearth. Seeing the wood-fire boom, knowing that warm scene is now valued globally, makes me emotional. I'm planning to visit my grandparents' hometown this summer.
Peru's traditional pachamanca also steams meat and potatoes underground with heated stones and firewood. 'Earth and fire cooking' exists worldwide, each unique. I'd love to experience the Japanese version someday.
After Noma closed, I thought fine dining was over. But now wood-fire cooking has emerged as a new direction. Returning to the primal after the pinnacle of technology — it feels like the food cycle has come full circle and gotten exciting again.
I'm a Japanese chef living in Germany. Bavaria has wood-oven bakeries and meat traditions too. Reading about Japanese wood-fire cooking, I see potential in combining washoku's delicacy with fire's wildness. I'm seriously considering returning to Japan to open a wood-fire restaurant in the countryside.