| rev:text
| - You ever watch those movies where the yuppie takes the dumb blonde to a ultra expensive sushi restaurant, and it's followed immediately with the sex scene? Well, this is that restaurant. Except, in this case..I was the dumb blonde, and there will be no sex.
The staff here are Japanese, which means the food is authentic, and the directions they give you over the phone is..authentically Japanese, let's just say.
I came here for a very light dinner prior to heading to the Opera, and I only ended up here because my Bay Street friend recommended the place.
I was immediately greeted by a Samurai statue at the front door, which is very cool, but a little bit creepy, and perhaps unnecessary. An old Hon Kong horror film entailed a Samurai resurrecting to a zombie and terrorize a town made an impression on me as a child, and ever since I've been wary of Samurai armour.
The waitresses here all spoke Japanese, and wore fake kimonos, which was sightly entertaining. The entire restaurant greets you including chefs as you take your seat.
I immediately noticed the outdated furniture. It wasn't like traditional outdated, but just old. The lighting was perfect, as it somehow made the experience of dining more engaging. I left the ordering to my friend, as she had been here before, and the pictures on the menu was not extensive.
They have booths for groups of four, and two elevated section where you dine the Japanese way, on your knees with no chairs. It looked very uncomfortable. I don't like discomfort when I eat. Between eating your with hands on a banana leaf and eating on your knees, I'd take the hands method any day.
My interest directed towards the patrons. This literally felt like the foreplayground of Bay Street. As I looked around, it seemed sex was on everyone's agenda. Pairs of the opposite sex that you just knew wasn't a couple.
The food came. I had no idea what I ate, but it was bloody good. The more authentic and unrecognisable the food got, the more delicious it was. I really enjoyed the mushroom dish. I thought it was a very light but satisfactory dinner, my friend thought it was heavy--she was a third my size..
My friend offered to pay the bill, but did it in a way where I knew I couldn't convince her otherwise. So for the first time in my life, I didn't argue to foot the bill..she may have been a women, but her position in her bank demanded reverence. I guess I got a reverence for Bay Street. It was expensive, I suppose you can say that it's worth the money, only if you're getting laid afterwards.
Nami has more than enough funds to renovate the space, and the owner should really consider updating a few details. Like keeping the entrance to the kitchen less conspicuous, or invest in a wine cellar, instead of keeping the dozen bottles of Yellowtail in a display fridge by the entrance like it were some kind of convenience store. Food alone; perhaps the best Japanese Restaurant experience I've had in Canada so far, honestly. I think I ate some kind of brains, but I love brains, so it's all good.
And tone down the AC, I spent a good portion of the night trying to keep that sheet of paper from blowing off of my table. You know, that sheet of paper you get in some restaurants to coaster your plate? Yeah, this restaurant had many characteristics of a shabby place, but it just isn't, and that's annoying.
"May I take that plate?"
"No please don't, I need it as a paper weight!"
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