We walked to Kisaku, a lovely little Japanese restaurant. It had been several weeks since our last sushi. I was in serious withdrawals. It was very good and the California roll pieces turned out to be twice the size I expected, so Paul helped me by eating the last two pieces. When it came, it was so beautiful, I wanted to take a picture. One has to be careful when taking pictures lest one be suspected of being a spy for the competitors. So, I didn’t take it. You will have to imagine how lovely it was.
Other than the waitresses, there were only two other women in the restaurant and neither of them was caucasian. The place was packed and Paul and I were the only non-Japenese people there. This place gets lots of good reviews in the papers and restaurant guides and is on the top floor of a hotel, so we expected more variety in the clientele. But, a Japanese restaurant packed with Japanese customers is a good sign that the food is authentic and good.
And, next time we’ll know to call for a reservation so that we will be able to sit at a table instead of the counter.
It was a pleasant walk to and from the restaurant. There was a cool breeze and I only got a little sweaty, mostly from the effort not the temperature. It is a pleasant change of pace. In September and October, when it was still hot, it would actually get hotter after the sun went down because hot humid air would come in off the ocean.
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