YEARS ago, while traveling through Japan, I booked a last-minute room through the tourist office at Kyoto’s train station and ended up at a traditional guesthouse without knowing what I was getting into.I was greeted at the entrance as if I were a long-lost relative, led to a hushed tatami-floored room where I traded my clothing for a robe, and shown a wooden tub where I later chose to cap the day before falling asleep on what seemed like a cloud. I did not levitate, just slumbered peacefully inches from the floor on a futon mattress that was as firm as it was yielding, lying beneath a comforter both weightless and substantial.This was my introduction to ryokans, Japanese lodgings that became my obsession for a time. I fantasized about my stay long after my return to the United States, even returning to Japan to try other ones there. I never considered that I could save myself the airfare and recreate the experience within driving distance of my home in Brooklyn until this winter, when, as I searched for a last-minute getaway for me, my husband and our 19-month-old son, I found the Berkshires Shirakaba in New Ashford, Mass.
It is one of a handful of Japanese guesthouses that have sprung up across the country seeking to offer the closest thing to staying at a ryokan this side of the Pacific.I was skeptical — Berkshires Shirakaba’s Web site bills it as a “Japanese American” accommodation — but if there was any chance that it would resemble a ryokan, our stay would be worth it. Days later, in the thick of our four-hour drive from Brooklyn, we received a promising sign: a text message from our host requesting sizes (including our son’s) for yukata, the cotton kimono worn at a ryokan. My doubt yielded to excitement. New Ashford, a town of 200 nestled between Mount Greylock State Reservation and the Taconic Mountains, is more a collection of houses tucked into deep-wooded pockets than a municipality. At the end of a residential yet rustic road, a hunk of granite with feathery kanji lettering signaled the entrance. A stoic Buddha meditated chest-deep in fresh snow, and noren curtains fluttered in the doorway.
The innkeepers, Louise Palmer and Sadao Yagi, greeted us in the genkan — a sunken entrance area designated for leaving shoes — with fluffy slippers in exchange for our boots. The couple, who met in 1992, opened the guesthouse in 2006 in a 2,600-square-foot, two-story post-and-beam structure that used to be their private residence.Ryokans, which date as far back as the 11th century, are like a cross between a bed-and-breakfast and a spa. They feature a décor that is decidedly traditional — low-slung furniture, tatami mats, futon mattresses — and many offer treatments and meals, including tea service, as part of the nightly stay. There are new vocabulary words and customs to master, and hosts in ryokans that cater to Western tourists double as cultural guides. The idea of turning off a state road in Massachusetts and feeling transported to Japan seemed unrealistic. But once we arrived, it made sense. Mr. Yagi, a native of Osaka, is reserved yet attentive — a Japanese host.
And Ms. Palmer, raised in Ohio, showers guests with attention and gifts like embroidered Japanese hand towels, baseball caps and tote bags at every turn. This may have been a Japanese-inspired ryokan transported to New England, but its setting, and owners, had balanced traditional elements with Western amenities, making it more user-friendly to uninitiated Americans. Our room was a prime example of their efforts. We were led to the Matsu No Ma (Pine Suite), spacious enough to fit both a tatami mat room with sliding fusama doors for privacy, and a Western-style bedroom. Other flourishes included rice paper bedside lamps, Japanese snacks and, in the bathroom, a heated Japanese toilet seat with a command center of curious buttons. As promised, three perfectly pressed robes awaited us, in large, small and toddler-tiny.The common areas of Berkshires Shirakaba were also a blend. The kitchen, lounge, deck, contemporary Western dining area and traditional Japanese dining room flow in an open plan on the second floor.
Even the shoes-off/yukata-on customs were flexible. With the exception of the tatami rooms, the hosts did not insist that guests leave their shoes at the door. “Most people like the choice of slippers we offer,” Ms. Palmer said. “And the yukatas are pretty popular — 90 percent of guests choose to wear them.” Before slipping into something more comfortable, we headed outdoors. Shirakaba translates to “white birch,” which are prevalent on the 20-plus forested acres, set on a ridge peering out at the surrounding hills. Here, it was impossible to avoid the fact that we were indeed in the Berkshires. But the setting was so peaceful, it was not jarring. On the main road, we ambled by a solitary church, the Christian Harvest Center, unadorned except for the five side of a die on the steeple, a request from the gambler who financed construction in 1828. The one-room schoolhouse nearby, built in 1792, is where Phoebe Johnson, the first woman to vote in a national election, cast her ballot on Nov. 2, 1920.The rest of our stay was true to traditional ryokan form.
Returning for tea, we settled into the low chairs at the squat table in our tatami room. Ms. Palmer brought us soothing green tea and freshly baked cookies, and gave instruction in wrapping our yukata (it matters: right side over left is only proper when preparing a body for burial). As the only guests that night, we had the pool house, with a lap pool and hot tub, to ourselves. We splashed away the afternoon, which is an excellent way to exhaust a toddler while you are rejuvenating midwinter. We tucked our son into the crib provided in the Western-style bedroom and headed upstairs (with the baby monitor) to the formal Japanese dining room for dinner, an option for an additional fee. The room was dominated by a long, low table that the couple built in their shop using a mix of woods. Sliding the fusama doors open and then shut behind her each time she entered the room, Ms. Palmer presented each of the six courses, including straightforward dishes like miso soup and chicken teriyaki, prepared by Mr. Yagi.
Though he is not a trained chef, he did have an expert teacher in his mother. “I learned from her about how things should taste and how to present them,” he said. “I teach my cooking techniques, but I do not share my recipes at the moment.” When he is ready to share, I will request the one for chawanmushi. This firm egg custard, served in a delicate cup perspiring from steam and garnished with a ring of carrot flowers, was the meal’s highlight, with its layered savory and sweet notes. The house-made matcha ice cream nicely punctuated the leisurely dinner. Like many Japanese, we ended the day with a bath of sorts. We steeped in the hot tub just off our suite, small cups of sake in hand. Ms. Palmer had prepared our tatami room for bedtime, adding to our bedding the traditional Japanese buckwheat pillows she sews, turndown service, as it were. And then came the sensation that I hadn’t experienced since that first night at the Kyoto ryokan: the elusive, cloudlike sleep.
I sank into the futon mattress, which was somehow firm yet cradling. I left this guesthouse sated.Nap on a Futon or Soak in a Teak TubJapanese-style accommodations can be found throughout the United States. Below are a few standouts. BERKSHIRES SHIRAKABA At this Japanese-style bed-and-breakfast in a very New England setting, yukata await guests of all sizes. 20 Mallery Road, New Ashford, Mass.; from $345.FUURIN-OKA This private cottage has authentic details (tatami mat floors, futon bedding, rice-husk pillows) and retreat-like perks (Japanese garden and breakfast, ofuro tub). 12580 Vista Drive NE, Bainbridge Island, Wash.; from $185.PEMBROKE SPRINGS RETREAT At this hybrid of country charm and Japanese hospitality, there are two highlights: large baths fed by a natural spring, and a traditional breakfast with specialties like hijiki, seaweed with shiitakes, carrot and burdock root. 6238 Wardensville Grade, Star Tannery, Va.; THE OSPREY PEAK BED AND BREAKFAST This inn resembling a farmhouse has Japanese touches (meditation space, fresh ikebana arrangements) in a coastal California setting: the forest near Point Reyes National Seashore.