Rokuzou, Shibuya (居酒屋六蔵)

[Jan 2011: Just had a thought that ‘Rokuzou’ could be interpreted as "Let’s Roku!” in Japanese, and that could be interpreted as a katakana version of "Let’s Rock!” in English. And I liked that thought.]

Shibuya at the end of the night. It’s not often that I need a sanjikai destination at those times; usually I’m the guy who’s agitating to break up the party so I can shuffle off to bed. In this case, Santa was leading someone and me up to the frozen north, or at least up toward Jinnan, where if you turn left at the fork (towards Parco), the 7th floor holds a branch of…   

Rokuzou, a pretty good izakaya chain. We used to go here all the time in Roppongi Hills, back in the days when it was McNoonan and Koala and Ponkan and Wolf and no one cared if we went to the same place once a week. Happy times, and great lunch sets. Even better if you could sit in the zaisu in the tatami area with the open windows looking into the western shopping expanse of Hills. I digress. There’s less atmosphere in this branch, but I’ve passed by many times on the way to the ESP Custom Shop, so it had the three virtues of being known, accessible, and open (this is called 三徳 in Japanese).

Kaku Highball advertisements over the bar are not generally a strong indicator of quality. I didn’t know we would be greeted by them. I stand by my assessment – they may have started using Koyuki in their ads to improve their image, but I think she’s just hurting her own. Then again, she did all those TV commercials wearing some kinda leathery jungle leotard thing, so maybe she’s not so worried. And if it’s boosting sales, maybe everyone’s happy.

Just a quick nihonshu for the road. Honestly, someone and I didn’t have any interest in drinking at this point, but were pretty eager to hang out and talk more. Right?

I’m looking at the web and wondering if this Rokuzou is differently-themed from the Roppongi Hills one. I guess it would make sense, and the web sites look quite different. This one lists gut stew as a specialty, while Roppongi lists fish. Can someone suggest a way to distinguish motsu nabe from nikomi? I keep calling them both ‘gut stew’. I don’t really like ‘hot pot’ as a phrase either. Good luck…GO!

You can pick your snack to go with the drink, from a basket of 5 or 6 that they bring by. It’s hard to get these things wrong, but they were pretty good quality. And I wasn’t paying much attention.

Eh, not much more to say about this completist post. I still think the Rokuzou’s are a decent chain,

One thing you should not do, no matter how the night turns out, is crouch down drunken-sickenly on the train. It’s an embarassment to your gender, and indeed to your country. This wasn’t even the last train.

Do you know MBTI? Here, you can take the test for free at this site. Only in English, but that’s OK, isn’t it? I can explain the results any time you want. I’ve always come out INTP, with a borderline score on the P/J (actually I just took it and came out INTJ, barely – years of workplanning, restaurant searching, and other ‘J’ activities can really change your personality. However I got in a discussion last night that saw me firmly on the T side, and a big, strapping Canadian on the F side, which shows that you can’t change all your stripes and also that F on this test has nothing to do with femininity.). Actually, I think the test would describe it as the ‘J/P score’, which to me is just another manifestation of how E–J is the world’s preferred mode of being. Anyhoo.

One of the characteristics of INTJ’s is ‘competence issues’, meaning ‘like to be competent at whatever they do’. For me, that extends to drinking too. This guy can do what he wants, but he oughta maintain his dignity. Sitting on the floor of the train means you’ve really lost it.

Before you feel too much like I was taking advantage of his enfeebled condition, you should know that he had a friend taking care of him.

Of course it might have been food poisoning, in which case I’m an asshole.

Let’s just go home.

When possible, I like to leave my bike by the station so I don’t have to walk home at night – once it’s dark and cold, walking is a hassle, but riding is a joy. You’re not supposed to park anywhere near here (except the for-pay lots). If you park early in the day you’ll get a ticket (and after 3, the police will heist your bike, he said from bitter experience), but if you park later someone will just rearrange it from time to time. Two nights running, I came out of the station to find my bike, and only my bike, had been moved from where I parked it. To right next to the exit. Pointing toward home. Almost like it was waiting for me.

If I made a joke like ‘Hacharinko’, would anyone get it? No? I think it’s funny.
03-3476-3438