fish balls?

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As I have previously mentioned, I love Erin. So. Much. I love how she is constantly painting unicorns on her toilet or going on adult field trips. So when we had plans for dinner last night, and she said we were going to her ‘favorite place’ I knew I was in the for a treat (fish balls / that breathe.) We patroned this Japanese place on St. Marks, where you are first greeted by a giant raccoon statue with red eyes? You are then welcomed into weird Japanese land thing, where the chairs are small and wicker, the decor – is bright and stuffed beaver-y, and menus are giant comic books filled with pages and pages of fried fish things, pork bun things, weird things, happy things, and confusing things.  They had me at $8 pitchers and edamame. E guided us through the menu, and then we danged on some fish balls (which squirt a mysterious substance like a fish – frosting?) a veggie and squid pancake drenched in BBQ sauce,  a rice bowl with beef and eggs, and, of course, giant (giant) oysters.

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Upon departure (really, the kicker) they give you a little container of pink sugar which you then put in the make your own cotton candy machine on the way out. Essentially, this restaurant was literally built for Erin, and sunsequently – me. Domo Arigato, Mr. Roboto.

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