the sushi nazi rides again
There's a tiny one-man Japanese restaurant nestled in a little corner of Far East Plaza, and it's run by a very grouchy guy I call the Sushi Nazi. Basically, the only welcome you get (if you can call it that) is a little device that sings out 'Welcome!' (I imagine) in Japanese everytime someone or something crosses its sensor.
You find a seat somewhere along the counter in the restaurant - no such thing as a table to yourself. If the Sushi Nazi doesn't want you to sit at a certain seat, he'll bark at you and insist that you sit in another place. He thrusts the menu at you and pours you some hot tea, plopping the teacup hard on the counter. After a bit, he'll come over and tilt his chin at you, asking for your order. The moment the words are out of your mouth he'll grab the menus from you and walk back into the kitchen.
The food arrives. You eat. He refills your tea silently; no banter, no hows-your-meal? You finish eating, he thrusts watermelon at you. You eat some more. The meal over, you may continue your conversation with your friends, but he stands at the doorway of his kitchen and glowers at you - better not take up room in the already tiny restaurant. You ask for the bill, he gives you the receipt. You eat, you pay.
Obviously there's no service charge here, nor GST. But the portions are generous and the prices cheap - my saba grilled mackerel set cost only $8 and came with rice, soup and appetizer (and watermelon of course). And of course, there's the entertainment value that comes from the Sushi Nazi himself - definitely part of the experience.
My saba meal, complete with photo-heavy Japanese magazine.
You find a seat somewhere along the counter in the restaurant - no such thing as a table to yourself. If the Sushi Nazi doesn't want you to sit at a certain seat, he'll bark at you and insist that you sit in another place. He thrusts the menu at you and pours you some hot tea, plopping the teacup hard on the counter. After a bit, he'll come over and tilt his chin at you, asking for your order. The moment the words are out of your mouth he'll grab the menus from you and walk back into the kitchen.
The food arrives. You eat. He refills your tea silently; no banter, no hows-your-meal? You finish eating, he thrusts watermelon at you. You eat some more. The meal over, you may continue your conversation with your friends, but he stands at the doorway of his kitchen and glowers at you - better not take up room in the already tiny restaurant. You ask for the bill, he gives you the receipt. You eat, you pay.
Obviously there's no service charge here, nor GST. But the portions are generous and the prices cheap - my saba grilled mackerel set cost only $8 and came with rice, soup and appetizer (and watermelon of course). And of course, there's the entertainment value that comes from the Sushi Nazi himself - definitely part of the experience.
My saba meal, complete with photo-heavy Japanese magazine.