Regent Street, London
I spy an incredible mound of hair. A pink afro. I love seeing people who own every part of themselves.
And, it’s good to have a sense of humor about Style.
Hope you enjoy it.
Music: Blow Away by A Fine Frenzy
Good morning Thrill-seekers,
I’ve wrapped the best of the London posts into a photo essay! For all Anglophiles and those of who are swift of feet and may head there soon! Tips and tricks to do London on the cheap, included. Check it out. Let me know what you think.
Abeno. Japanese restaurant. It’s raining. We’re famished. Good enough.
It’s tightly packed at the front since several parties are waiting for tables. We look at the menu but it’s all Japanese to us. We have no idea what Okonomiyaki is but it sounds different and we aren’t sure if it is the kind of different we want to be familiar. We mull over our options out loud. He interjects.
Shy Stout Man of Indeterminate Accent: Is woss.
Dyane: I’m sorry.
I lean in because I think I didn’t hear him
Man: It’s woss.
He launched into a description, of which I understand the words eggs, vegetable, fry, and the phrase “in front” while he motions toward the counter. And then, “it woss.” I am looking puzzled. OneWayorAnother is faking understanding.
Man: Is woss waiting.
Dyane: (light bulb moment in head) It’s worth the wait!
Dyane (out loud): Ohhh! Thank you. Great, we’ll stay then.
I’ve never seen a restaurant try to make its customers so at ease. At Abeno you can sit at group tables or at the bar. Each seat is essentially a bench, the top of which lifts to reveal a trunk below. Inside is ample space to put in your purse, coats, etc. If the trunk had holes for ventilation you could probably put your German Mastiff in there. As a traveller it was a welcome change from narrow tables that I usually find in crowded downtown areas.
Abeno serves Okonomiyaki, a dish that can come in a variety of ways. But, every one is essential a salty pancake filled with Okonomi or whatever you like. If you sit at the bar, the waiter will cook your dish right in front of you on the stainless steel, steam-free grill before you.
We stay at the bar because that’s where all the action is.
Young Man sitting next me. Mid-20s, English. He was finishing his rice wine. I also tried the rice wine and I report that it is divine. Young Man wants a beer.
Young Man: I don’t know (probably because the names were all Japanese to him too and he’d already returned the menu to the woman)
Young Man: Yeah, well how about the first one on the list?
Young Man: I don’t know. The first one should be fine.
Waitress: Yeah, krili.
Young Man: yeah, yeah, just any one of them!
The waitress comes back with the menu. The young thought she was doubting his choice and asking him he really wanted the first beer on the list. In fact, she was saying the name of the beer. I still don’t know which beer that is.
Food is the only thing that does not get lost in translation. Okonomiyaki is delicious. It was so delicious we dined there again the next night.
Our Gentleman From A Mysterious Land was not there.