Agave, Roppongi

Ohhh, it’s hard to remember what to write about Agave. That’s partly because it was almost a week ago, and partly because, well…it’s a tequila bar. What does one write in a review of a tequila bar except “Oh, my head?”

No, I know that these days tequila is all about ‘sipping’, and in fact the guy sitting next to me was working on a small snifter of something called “Aha Toro”. Put an exclamation point in the middle and this sounds like someone who’s woken up in the streets of Pamplona with a massive hangover, being stared down by two tons of Spain’s finest.
I write about Agave not due to any great love of Tequila (he didn’t even finish the Aha Toro, but kept looking at it queasily), nor fondness for the poorly-made frozen margaritas I consumed, nor any rancor due to my hangover, but simply because the nachos were really tasty. In a harsh dessert climate like Japan, devoid of human comforts like rain, plant life and Mexican food, these nachos were close to heaven. The ‘you’ve been stuck in a Mexican cantina where the sun don’t shine’ atmosphere is pretty cool too. The live music (guitar and harp) is another great touch, although I was peeved that they wouldn’t let me play the guitar. Then again, I wouldn’t have let me play the guitar either.

In the name of the Blessed Virgin,
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