It all started with Sushi Yasuda: Ever since Yasuda-san went back to Tokyo to open a horse sashimi restaurant (no kidding), I’ve steered clear of Sushi Yasuda, thinking that his replacements might not slice like The Master. I went in January and returned on Friday and, folks, I’m here to tell you that the hamachi, anago, unagi, and what-have-you are oiishi.
Followed by delicious fava bean crostini and garganelli with pork ragu and porchetta sandwiches at Locanda Verde. The waiter dissuaded me from grandma’s ravioli; emailed chef A.C. about this and we agreed: Why should a waiter push his preferences?
The very next day it was grilled mackerel and oxtail ragu @ Lupa. Service was initially on the “Huh?” side, but picked up and I left convinced that this place has food of great depth. I’d had my doubts after checking out Locanda, but why compare Roman to Italian-American?
That night: Yakitori Tori Shin. You might as well be in Tokyo. First rate food and an atmosphere utterly urban Japanese. The only downside was the chaotic service that resulted in people after us waiting for between 30-45 minutes for our ringside seats. Staff threw eating customers under the grill and blamed us for the delay rather than admitting to disorganization. The result? As we left, a plump, sock less man smiled ironically and said to me: “Should we applaud?” I smiled back, shook his hand, and said, “They’re very disorganized tonight.” He said he was sorry for having said anything.
I thought of the lines from perhaps my favorite movie of all time: “I’m sorry too, Dimitri. I’m very sorry. Alright! You’re sorrier than I am! But I am sorry as well. I am as sorry as you are, Dimitri. Don’t say that you are more sorry than I am, because I am capable of being just as sorry as you are. So we’re both sorry, alright? Alright.”