"I don't know what to do," I said to my husband this morning. "What do you think?"
"What do you mean?" he asked. "Do you want to say no?"
No? No? I couldn't say no. How could I say no? This was an opportunity of a lifetime. Today, I was going out for lunch. And,it wasn't just any lunch. It was lunch at a Tokyo restaurant. And, it wasn't just any Tokyo restaurant.
"This is not just any Tokyo restaurant," the editor of a Tokyo magazine had reminded me a few days before. "This restaurant has a two month waiting list for lunch! And, we got you in to write a review for our English readers."
"It has a two month waiting list, remember?" I yelled to my husband from inside my closet. "What do you think I should wear? Aren't restaurant reviewers supposed to dress in classy burgundy sports coats and black merino wool turtlenecks?"
After finally settling on my first restaurant review outfit: a maroon sweater and elastic-waist band black pants (It was an all-you-can-eat buffet afterall), I decided I needed to focus on something even more important to help prepare for my critique. I needed to do something about my name. This is Tokyo. I needed a new name that sounds sophisticated. I needed a name that sounds honest. I needed a name that sounds cultured and culinary. I got it.
"I thought of my restaurant review name," I said to my husband before he left for work. "Call me Francesca Fromage."
"Francesca Fromage," he said. "I think you just burned your english muffin in the toaster."
"So, what do you think?" the restaurant's public relations person asked me as I was sampling the coffee. I had taken the subway and easily found the restaurant. I had queued in the foyer. I had toured the dining room. I had stood in the buffet line. I had met the chefs. I had admired the setting. I had taken notes. I had sampled food. I had nibbled. I had dipped, sipped, sliced, diced. But, I had not quite finished testing the all-you-can-eat dessert station. And, my goodness, there were so many desserts to choose from: cakes, pastries, specialty breads, eclairs and even a very tempting vase of delicous-looking cookies with a sign that read in English "For display only. Do not eat."
"You know," I said. "I do feel a compliment coming. I really do. But, you know what would help? Another eclair. They are just so small, I couldn't quite savor it long enough to find the right word. Actually, maybe two or three more eclairs would help keep those compliments coming...okay maybe just the whole platter..."
I don't know if I'll write any more restaurant reviews. I don't know if I will be asked back to this restaurant. I don't know if I will write another article for this English magazine. But, I do know that Francesca Fromage loves her chocolate. And, that she can somehow break the new toaster.
P.S. This is a picture I took on Coming of Age Day. These women are dressed in their formal kimonos and celebrating becoming "adults" (age 20). It is much better than a picture of me and the coming of middle age.
"What do you mean?" he asked. "Do you want to say no?"
No? No? I couldn't say no. How could I say no? This was an opportunity of a lifetime. Today, I was going out for lunch. And,it wasn't just any lunch. It was lunch at a Tokyo restaurant. And, it wasn't just any Tokyo restaurant.
"This is not just any Tokyo restaurant," the editor of a Tokyo magazine had reminded me a few days before. "This restaurant has a two month waiting list for lunch! And, we got you in to write a review for our English readers."
"It has a two month waiting list, remember?" I yelled to my husband from inside my closet. "What do you think I should wear? Aren't restaurant reviewers supposed to dress in classy burgundy sports coats and black merino wool turtlenecks?"
After finally settling on my first restaurant review outfit: a maroon sweater and elastic-waist band black pants (It was an all-you-can-eat buffet afterall), I decided I needed to focus on something even more important to help prepare for my critique. I needed to do something about my name. This is Tokyo. I needed a new name that sounds sophisticated. I needed a name that sounds honest. I needed a name that sounds cultured and culinary. I got it.
"I thought of my restaurant review name," I said to my husband before he left for work. "Call me Francesca Fromage."
"Francesca Fromage," he said. "I think you just burned your english muffin in the toaster."
"So, what do you think?" the restaurant's public relations person asked me as I was sampling the coffee. I had taken the subway and easily found the restaurant. I had queued in the foyer. I had toured the dining room. I had stood in the buffet line. I had met the chefs. I had admired the setting. I had taken notes. I had sampled food. I had nibbled. I had dipped, sipped, sliced, diced. But, I had not quite finished testing the all-you-can-eat dessert station. And, my goodness, there were so many desserts to choose from: cakes, pastries, specialty breads, eclairs and even a very tempting vase of delicous-looking cookies with a sign that read in English "For display only. Do not eat."
"You know," I said. "I do feel a compliment coming. I really do. But, you know what would help? Another eclair. They are just so small, I couldn't quite savor it long enough to find the right word. Actually, maybe two or three more eclairs would help keep those compliments coming...okay maybe just the whole platter..."
I don't know if I'll write any more restaurant reviews. I don't know if I will be asked back to this restaurant. I don't know if I will write another article for this English magazine. But, I do know that Francesca Fromage loves her chocolate. And, that she can somehow break the new toaster.
P.S. This is a picture I took on Coming of Age Day. These women are dressed in their formal kimonos and celebrating becoming "adults" (age 20). It is much better than a picture of me and the coming of middle age.
