There isn’t much of interest to say about Wall Street except that…well, it’s in Kayabacho. When I worked in Roppongi it was my usual transfer point, so I used to transfer there all the time, and would sometimes just get off and walk home, looking for a place to eat along the way. Wall Street never came anywhere near making the cut.
But now that the Preacher is back in Tokyo, and has (pleasantly) moved to Tsukishima, we sometimes ride our bikes home together. This is particularly racy because he checked into company-sponsored covered parking for the bikes, and learned that company policy forbids us to ride to work. Not sufficiently dignified and elegant, I suspect. On this evening, he had a deep urge to stop at this place, and I didn’t feel a need to argue. It’s quirky, isn’t it?
Especially if you know Kayabacho. What’s place like this doing in a converted bank? Probably the same thing that all bars are doing in converted banks…
Serving drinks, in an atmospheric setting. In this case it’s simultaneously bright and dim, in a way that I don’t think flatters the drinks or the patrons, and I didn’t think it was the most comfortable place to be. We just had a drink and left…
Whereupon it became clear that Mrs. Preacher was planning on my coming to dinner, and had prepared what I thought was a ridiculous spread – home-made ebi shinjo and sesame tofu, plus a bowl of brown rice topped with barbeque eel. Heck of a dinner for a Thursday night. I should move in.
Some good background on the web site – built in 1923, which makes it a rarity in earthquake-and-firebombing-prone Tokyo. OK, not really prone to bombing, but you know what I mean.
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