Let’ s Eat

Eating on the road has it’s perils. Sure, I like an occasional burger and fries, just like the next guy. But, I also have urges when traveling and to satisfy them requires a gamblers frame of mind. It’s a game of chance, sort of.

After a day of sumptuous garden wandering, we headed down the road in search of sustenance. Deb will often ask what I’m in the mood for, we discuss it and then we start the search as we drive along. Japanese was my hunger one day, some noodles, miso soup, a quiet booth, clean food.

As we motored along, a sign beckoned to us both, Miyabi, Japanese Steak House. Appetites activated, saliva flowing, we pulled in, intrigued by the distinctive Japanese theme architecture of the building. Car parked, we entered the establishment quickly melting into the faces of a crowd of young families with youngsters in tow.

The entry vestibule had an interesting waterfall fountain that defied gravity and to the immediate right, a full suit of Samurai armor. Enamored with the surroundings, we decided that hunger was in control and asked to be seated.

We were escorted to a table that was a U shaped wooden counter, the center of which was a large solid metal griddle. A fan hung above it, lights were low and a family had already been seated at the other 5 chairs that surrounded the cooking surface.

Several other dining sections of the same configuration surrounded us, and they were jammed with kids, Moms and Dads. The atmosphere was raucous, to put it mildly. A distant table was celebrating a birthday and the restaurant staff had drums and loud voices to honor the occasion in song and strumming.

We ordered, waited a brief time and savored the Japanese onion soup that was served. After a few minutes, a gentleman in a Chefs coat wheeled in a cart of bottles and trays, introduced himself and began a session of culinary theatre that kept our table mesmerized from start to finish.

The grill was turned on from below, the fan was activated and the show began. Some water thrown on the hot grill sizzled into a cloud of steam and then a tray of vegetables hit the heat. Spitting and sputtering, the strips of onion and zucchini were sprinkled with seasonings.

Then some shrimps hit the hot surface. With the clatter of spatulas and the clicking of a knife, the tails on the shrimps were cut off and flipped into a pile. Sauces were squirted on, more flipping ensued and before we knew it, a savory shrimp appetizer was portioned out to each of us. The cuts of crustacean were alive with soy and ginger, releasing a burst of pleasant flavors on the palate.

Next, a mound of rice the size of Mt. Fuji was spilled onto the grill, jazzed up with some sauces and seasonings, then shaped into a mound on a cooler side of the grill to gently warm up for service.

Now, the steaks and chicken breasts hit the hot surface, each individually prepared for each respective guest, per their order. Again with the clicking and clanging of spatulas and knives, the meats were expertly cooked, selectively seasoned and cooked to the exact specifications of each diner.

Our Chef now divided out vegetables to each of us, piled the fried rice on our plates,then proceeded to distribute the meats. With chop sticks, we gobbled up the foods, remarking that this may not have been the noodles and quiet booth we were in search of originally but, it was fun and satisfying.

As we dined, the chef created a fiery volcano of onion cuts sputtering with soy sauce. His mastery of the grill and entertaining with food filled our table with wide eyed awe and applause. The same spilled from almost every table in the room.

After dinner, and in the next few days, we talked up our experience to discover that when a sign advertised a Japanese Steak House, you can almost be assured of a dinner theatre theme, full of fanfare and flames, steam and savory foods. Search one out and give it a go.

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