I'm often faced with the question, "What's the best restaurant you've ever been to?" And to be honest, I don't think it's that fair of an inquiry. I always, always follow up the question with, "Give me a genre or area," because I need to hone down my options. Or at least attempt to. This city almost has too many dining out options. So much hype. So many critics. It's tough to come across a hidden gem at this point. Nearly everything has already been exposed.
And that's where my all time, favorite restaurant comes into play: Little Tokyo. Located in the most unassuming of shopping center strips in Norwalk, CT, lives one of my favorite places on Earth. Swanky? No. Elegant? Well, no. Trendy? Depends who you're talking to. Good? Not a thesaurus in this world could come up with enough synonyms to describe the goodness, no, greatness, going on at this celestial place.
And that's where my all time, favorite restaurant comes into play: Little Tokyo. Located in the most unassuming of shopping center strips in Norwalk, CT, lives one of my favorite places on Earth. Swanky? No. Elegant? Well, no. Trendy? Depends who you're talking to. Good? Not a thesaurus in this world could come up with enough synonyms to describe the goodness, no, greatness, going on at this celestial place.
Henry, the charming and charismatic main man of Little Tokyo, travels bright and early to Queens every morning to hand select his seafood. His selection is unrivaled. Pristine. Nothing shy of orgasmic.
There's no ordering that goes on. Just take a seat, have a ridiculously generous glass of white wine be set in front of you (I'm talking your mouth has to meet the glass while sitting on the table because any attempt to lift the glass would result in a spill. My kinda pour.) and get ready to have your mind blown by food unlike anything you've ever experienced.
A typical night at Little Tokyo starts off with a plate of a spicy crab salad with pieces of yellowtail sashimi that dance around the edge of the plate, delicately splashed with ponzu and a sprinkling of shaved scallions. The Pavlovian response I have to this dish alone is nearly obscene. I'm sitting here, salivating just at the thought.
If I'm at the table, Henry knows I can't leave without an oyster or two. Kumamotos, practically gorgeously swollen, dressed with ponzo, scallion, and a speck of sriracha. Coming from a girl who typically just goes with a squeeze of fresh lemon, it's almost hard for me to have them any other way than Henry's way. The pairing is sublime.I've found all I'll ever need at Little Tokyo.
SERVICE: 25
FOOD: 25
LOOK: 19
VIBE: 24
FINAL GRADE: 93
3 comments:
Another great piece Kirra,talk about Pavlovian response!!
i <3 you guys. the new blog's looking FAB!!
It is the best.. I have to hold myself back from going there 3-4 x's a week!!!
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