The bar and the businessmen

So we had just finished up a big dinner of sashimi and nigiri at a conveyor belt sushi restaurant and we were walking around trying to find a good spot to grab a drink. We walked down Ponto-cho Alley to try and find a place. Now imagine your favorite strip of bars in Chicago, or Austin, New York, wherever; now instead of it being a street with bars on both sides, image it’s a sidewalk, and you can reach your hand out to your right, touch one bar, and then reach your other hand out and lean over and touch a bar on the other side. That’s Ponto-cho Alley.

All the places seemed a little more “Spring Break” than we were looking for…correction, a little more Japanese spring break in a traditional 1600’s tea house than we were looking for, so we tried another steet-Shinbashi Dori. Shinbashi is another amazing large sidewalk that they let cars drive on, with preserved traditional Japanese buildings on both sides, cobblestone streets, and no powerlines. And besides the possibly homeless, but definitely drunk, old man peeing into the creek, it looked pretty cool at night. Well it turns out this is also the high-high-end part of town. Think white plates, tiny portions, large prices, a blah-blah-blah reduction, and some rare vegetable sprinkled on top. The type of unfulfilled hunger that costs a premium.

We had just about given up hope when we found a place that looked promising. On the menu posted outside, the restaurant had English numbers and poorly translated descriptions of a few dishes. There was a businessman, or at least a middle aged guy in a suit, standing outside the place smoking a cigarette. He must have been able to tell we were contemplating coming in and said something to the effect of “food good” “you are welcome” and “ room for two”. So he slide open the door and we walked in. He motioned and said something to the hostess/waitress that almost seemed like he was letting them know he recruited us and to affirm it was ok that we sit at the last two bar stools.

Like a lot of bars and restaurants around, this place was pretty small. I’m talking the size of the Key on a basketball court small. There were 10 round bar stools to sit on around the L shaped bar, and there were two tables of 4. I quickly realized that out of the 18 possible people in this place, 16 of the middle aged, red cheeked men in suits, all had a matching square lapel pin. So I figured they all worked for the same company or possibly belonged to the same illuminati type secret brotherhood.

We sat down, listened to the Japanese conversations that we didn’t understand, and laughs that we were 98% were at our expense, and ordered. I got some sake and Sara ordered a Plum-something-or-other. A few minutes later our friend from outside is setting a giant plate of Gyoza in front of us. He explains what it is, what’s in it, and that it’s awesome…or at least that’s how we translated it. So we act extremely grateful, eat it, and agree it is awesome. Then a few minutes later some miso soup arrives. And by arrives, I mean the guy making it on the other side of the bar, 18 inches away hands it to us and points to our Sapporo handed friends at the table behind us. Again we get another explanation of what it is, and how awesome it tastes.

Then for the next hour or so, we’re turned around talking to these guys who work for a “very famous” insurance company. They seemed to be in town for a conference or something. We learn a little bit about where they’re from, and what they do, and share a few “kampais” or “cheers” in Japanese. A few not so hilarious jokes by us, and these guys are throwing up high-fives like we’re in an 80’s movie. And then like a flash they were all standing up, paying, and were gone. This was when I knew my initial reaction that this was some sort of scam to get us to cover their tab or to pay for a bunch of stuff we didn’t want was going to come true. Turns out it was the exact opposite. When we went to pay the cook/bartender explained that they picked up our tab and that “they work for very famous insurance company”. I’m pretty sure “pretty famous” was supposed to translate to “pretty well known” but hey, whatever, we partied with famous Japanese people.

From Kyoto, with love.

Will + Sara