Fighting fatigue, we readied ourselves for the drive into downtown.
After taking a few steps, I realized it was remarkably warmer than it appeared. Icy patches remained on the walkway in spite of the above-zero temperatures. In the upcoming days, we would learn that this was, unfortunately, the norm.
Limping into the eatery, I entered through the second door - this one propped open for customer ease - and scanned the environment. The dining area was illuminated minimally and fully occupied. I hovered about until a member of staff approached me. The hostess inquired whether I had made a reservation; I hadn't. But even so, there were three tables available in the covered patio area.
Water was served prior to the arrival of the sleepy polar bear. Interestingly enough, there was no additional charge for sparkling water.
Not sure of the status of parking acquisition nor the delivery speed of sustenance on a bustling Friday evening, I took to requesting Tempura Ebi, the sole dish the sleepy polar bear was bound to enjoy, and a Hitachino Nest Yuzu Lager. The evening marked my first and only instance on the trip of being asked to provide proof of age for alcohol-affiliated affairs.
The sleepy polar bear's entrance coincided with the arrival of my drink, at which point we discussed - in brief, for one of us was hungrier than the other - the remaining items to be requested. Instead of the hostess this time, a different member of staff approached our table. Shortly afterwards, he delivered a ceramic plate with two steaming hand towels, intended to be used just before the arrival of food.