When I was little I would come here with my Mom after swimming lessons. We would discuss all the things of importance to my nine year old self over chicken katsu (Japanese fried chicken with terriyaki sauce) and Japanese chicken soup. The katsu was fantastic and my little taste buds coveted that shit like a fat kid covets cake. I'm pretty sure that if I had had the chance to eat there every day, the metaphor would be half-true. The chicken soup is not your mother's chicken soup. Unless she's Japanese, then it's very possible that she would make this. In that case, is it okay if I invite myself over to your house? The setting of the Grange Mall can be a little grungy at times but that's just part of the charm. Don't bother with the dried out sushi in little styrofoam coffins.