A few curious things here. One is that the neighborhood of Kyoto behind the city hall has an abnormal number of modern, foreign restaurants and cafes mixed in with the old vegetable shops and paper stores. It’s quite nice, especially ‘Gokomachi street’ where we stayed. Another curious thing is the trend toward hyper-American cafes in Japan. Here’s one of them.
To be fair, they’re usually Hawaiian or at least Californian. This one was heavy on surf paraphenalia and American flags, and we sat next to a biggish, gaudy Christmas tree. Fortunately there was no ‘hula Christmas’ music playing.
The food is like this – a big display case of cakes up front, or burgers and Spam sandwiches. It being not-too-long after a kaiseki lunch, a shared piece of cake did it up. It was mediocre.
Which left me with nothing to do but put on my scarf, sit under the flag, and contemplate what it means to be an American at this, the most…won-der-ful time…of the year. In Hawaii. Errr, Kyoto.
Don’t ask.
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