Tuesday, January 03, 2012

GYU-KAKU


Or ‘Happy Birthday’ #2 Son! On December 29th, as is the family tradition, we take #2 Son into Manhattan for his birthday.

This past birthday he wanted to go to the Museum of Natural History to see if he has any claim to cave man. This is at my suggestion since I got a view of his room one day while the door was open.

The place is huge, with long lines waiting to get in and once in, some of the patrons should be in the exhibits! Artifacts, carvings, tools and utensils are all part of the exhibits, as are life-like figures showing off ALL their stuff, if you know what I mean, both female and male, and rocks, lots and lots of rocks.

On top of the museum, #2 wanted to bring his girl-friend, a lovely young woman named Kelly AND he wanted to visit a Japanese restaurant in the heart of Manhattan on Third Avenue and 50th Street called: GYU-KAKU, which is Japanese for ‘Cook it yourself and leave me alone’.

First they make you wait a long time and then they come and get you, sit you in very cozy seating that lends a lot of privacy and intimacy. The kicker is the hibachi that sits in the middle of the table. This follows a long history of traditional Japanese culinary innovation. There was Sushi, the raw fish experience, Benihana’s sitting at the table and being entertained while the chef did an outstanding act of knife and spatula flinging while he cooked your food, and now, the GYU-KAKU, the ‘Cook it yourself and leave me alone’ culinary experience for people who have cash they would like to cook.

You select what you wish to eat, they bring it out raw, and YOU have to cook it! The waitress puts the food down and says: “2 minutes each side” or “ no more than 45 seconds each side” and so it goes, depending on what you order. I’m thinking; “And we tip her for what?”

Sitting with #1 AND #2 Sons, TLW (The Little Woman) and the lovely Kelly, I don’t stand a chance.  They all put their stuff on the hibachi and I’m left standing in the cold. THERE IS NO ROOM FOR ME! I try to push something over a little and TLW elbows me away, I try again from another angle and #! Son fends off my attempt with his tongs. I’m sitting on the end of a bench that holds two people comfortably, but I’m #3, and I’m sliding off the end, no place to put my hat and I’m sitting on my coat, the zipper biting my tukus!

I think the next Japanese experience for me will be Hari-kari.

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