Movable Feast
EVERY once in a while you feel the urge to pump up=20 those iodine levels and taste the flavour of the deep=20 blue sea as immediately as biting into a salt-water=20 oyster. When this happens, listen to your body. You=20 need sushi — that wonderful art form of the Japanese=20 chef, which takes the purity of fish and harnesses this=20 with steamed rice, held together by a band of seaweed=20 to create a gateway to foodie heaven.
In Cape Town, the doors to sushi nirvana are in Long=20 Street, unexpectedly positioned next to a sleazy=20 lingerie shop. It’s called Tokyo Sun and, contrary to=20 common belief, it doesn’t take reservations. Walking in=20 the door you’d expect to be greeted by a tall, angelic=20 figure, but you may be disappointed. Furthermore, not=20 all the visitors to cloud nine get to sit at tables.=20 Still, you can choose to sit at a table or on the floor=20 in the traditional way. You’ll need to doff your shoes=20 beforehand, and beware — once you’ve sat at one of=20 those low-slung tables for a few hours you may never be=20 able to put your shoes on again, never mind stand in=20
Myself and Sado-san had a Japanese beer while we took a=20 look around. Yes, there are wall ornaments ranging from=20 the authentically interesting (some beautiful kimonos)=20 to the awesomely tacky (these you must see for=20 yourself). Yes, there are real Japanese chefs doing=20 their knife flashdance on unsuspecting food. And yes=20 (the test), there are a number of Oriental patrons=20 enjoying the cuisine (but why are they drinking J&B?).=20 The head waiter even wears a Japanese tunic. The=20 waitresses seem slightly cowed by the authoritarian=20 style of the owners — better order soon, we were told=20 at nine in the evening: the chefs are cleaning up.
So order we did. The crayfish in the tank at my head=20 suggestively waved his broken feeler (this was no=20 nirvana for him). I ordered the sushi special. This one=20 doesn’t come in a wooden boat, but others do. Sado-san=20 chose a chicken dish called oyakodon. Also added were=20 one kani roll, with a filling of crab, and one Japanese=20 roll with the most delectable mushrooms. These are=20 exquisite treats; the tastes are varied and delicate,=20 and the textures are worth closing your eyes over. Plus=20 there’s that wild horseradish that makes you blink.
The meal was begun with complimentary appetisers of=20 crunchy-fried sprouts with a hint of soya — a great=20 chopstick challenge to get you into the swing of=20 things. The oyakodon arived in a lidded box (not a=20 coffin — this is heaven) and proved to be full of=20 subtle treasures — quick-fried pieces of chicken and=20 onion in an intriguing sweetish sauce, laid over a bed=20 of rice. A double bed at that — there was too much=20 rice, but if you’re hungry this’ll fill you up. The=20 dish is refined: no crashing cymbals here.
The head waiter recommended the sushi, boasting that he=20 ate a kilo and a half of raw fish daily and felt great.=20 In a fake wooden bowl arrived about four different=20 types of fish and some Japanese salad, plus more weed- wrapped rice with a cucumber core. Alongside you get=20 excellent thin-sliced pieces of ginger to set the=20 tastebuds aglow.
The sushi lingered but the beer didn’t, so we ordered=20 some sake, and sat and gently ate as the restaurant=20 grew quiet. Gradually we realised that our asses were=20 sore and our appetites calmed. There are temptations=20 like deep-fried ice-cream on the menu, but that’s the=20 devil’s work, as you should know.
Tokyo Sun: Long Street, Cape Town. Tel: (021) 23-6055