Monday 23rd April 2007 (yet again!)
Back at home I did the standard new visitor things. Feed them tea, show them their room, explain the earthquake drill and make more tea. Then we did the work bit; installed a new database uploaded the data and gave it a trial run. All OK.
I went to collect Rhiannon from school while 'T' took a shower and sorted out her stuff.
Once Tim arrived home, 'T' and I headed off to find somewhere to eat and gossip. Now, as I don't go out that often, I don't really know all the good restaurants. Apart from the place I went with the school mums, where we were fed batter-covered chicken gristle (not recommended) and a sushi bar, I didn't know any Japanese restaurants.
We set off for Akasaka as there are loads of eateries there and were confident we'd find something. 'T' is a bit of a foodie so I was under a little pressure to find somewhere good.
Up one street we went and only found Western restaurants or very Japanese places where we had no hope of understanding the menu. This is frankly a little scary as some Japanese food is known to be, erm…, unusual to our unrefined Western palates. It was also very busy with "salarymen" out on their regular jollies. Pachinko parlours deafened passersby when the doors opened and are garlanded with neon-coloured fake flowers and other decorations. There are also numerous hostess bars…
Down another street. This one housed only sushi bars and we wanted something a bit more substantial… and cooked.
Then into the unknown. The next street was a bit darker than the others but a mysterious man was carrying a framed stall that was making a gentle, yet intriguing tinkling sound. So we followed him to see what was on his cart. It was festooned with delicate glass windchimes and the sound and sight was enchanting.
Continuing up this street, we spotted a beautiful old wooden house with the much welcome sign, "English Menu"! Perfect. It was a Japanese restaurant in a fabulous setting with an English menu.
Except… we could not find out how to get in!
There was no door to be seen. We went back and forth around the building. Looked for stairs in case the entrance was up a level. Nothing. Through the windows we could see people inside eating, but how did they get there? How frustrating - so near, yet so nowhere close to finding a way in. After several circuits, we noticed a closed tiny sliding door. Could that be it? Surely not - it was only about a metre high. 'T' dared me to try it, so I did. Eureka! It was the entrance! How very authentic.
Inside we were greeted warmly and invited to remove our shoes which we left by the door. There were separate rooms off a short, dark wood corridor. It all looked extremely old and authentic. We were ushered into a room where for a dreaded moment I thought we would be expected to sit on the floor as the tables were very low. But no, under the table was a hollowed out floor enabling us to sit more comfortably. Thank goodness.
Decorated with many ancient (looking) artefacts, the ambience was perfect.
We ordered from the set menu and had the most delicious meal ever; lots and lots of courses including sashimi, sukiyaki and miso. We drunk lager from heavy, rough pottery mugs and dessert was a disturbingly grey ice-cream. Tasty, but still grey.
The toilet was surprisingly modern, but the old custom of putting on "toilet slippers" was used - these are communal wooden open-toed clogs.
As we left, just about able to walk after the copious amounts of food we'd consumed, the host lifted a floorboard by the miniature door and gave us a gift of some tins of drink. I think they were soba-pop. The drink was grey, like the ice-cream, but nowhere near as tasty. We didn't keep them.
Would you like to know what this fantastic restaurant is called? Yes?
It's called Jidaiya and now has an English website.
I can highly recommend Jidaiya if you're ever in Tokyo. Just mind your head when you go in!
