sushi train

A planning session with sushi, that was the idea. We are going to the UK on holidays later in the year, and our dear friend Anna will be joining us for part of the time. As the margins for procrastination are rapidly dwindling, decisions need to be made. Who will be where, when. Enough vaguery, enough shilly-shallying. It’s time to nail this shit down. So a nice meal, some wine and some decisions, that was the plan.

We were all in a good mood, having met up at Cafe Newtown first and watched the friday night crowds arriving to be greeted by the cute looking police drug dog and about a dozen boys and girls in blue. I ducked across the road to the bottle shop to buy a bottle of Pinot Gris with a pretty drawing of a bird on the label, and then joined Strop and Anna at a shop selling polka-dotted felt hats for $19.95. “Bargain!” said Strop, reaching for my wallet.

When we got to Japone Sushi we opted for the train rather than one of the side tables. This was going to mean that there was less room for Strop’s hand-drawn calendar / spreadsheet but who can go past the option of having their food arrive on a miniature luggage carousel, especially when you are planning a holiday. It’s imperative.

So we hung our bags and coats on the backs of our stools and perched ourselves in a row and waited for the tiny trains to pull in. The first to arrive were a series of little wooden boxes with shot glasses. Oyster shooters! MMMmmmm. They were good. Look mussels. Yes! Mussels, yum. What’s next? Try this. What is it? Do you want some or not? Sure. MMMmmmm. That was good, what was it? Ceviche! In a little hipster jar! Quick grab them. Get a photo. Stop shouting. MMMmmmm. What’s that with the salmon? Watermelon. It’s got watermelon in it too. Crunchy. And smooth. Wow.

There is a slightly crazed mood that overtakes you at the start of a sushi train session. It happens with yum cha too, all the food coming past, all looking so good. Decisions need to be made quickly. This mild form of hysteria was exacerbated at Japone Sushi because there is so much fantastic looking feature food. At the bottom of their business card it says “It’s sushi… But not as you know it!” And for once that cliche is appropriate. This is sushi with a sense of fun and experimentation, and a fair bit of chilli: Spider King Roll; Volcano; Kiss of Fire; Popcorn Shrimp; Sashimi Tacos. The food was excellent, and fun. And excellent. The Pinot Gris from Orange was pretty good to.

Once we had got over our initial feeding frenzy and got to the point where our stomachs started to tell us that at some stage it is going to shut its doors and we had better start taking our time and choosing wisely, we started to talk about the holidays. The primary reason for the trip is to go to the wedding of an old but young friend at a church in Hampstead Garden Suburb. Anna is a librarian, specialising in built heritage, and she had been doing her research. “Is it the church with the tall steeple or the one with the short round tower?” Tall steeple. “When the invitation says we’ll be there with bells on – how is that? The book said the churches had no bells because the designers didn’t want to disturb the peace of the residents.” Turn of phrase. “Will we be able to spend a night at a London pub?” And a Devon pub. More than one probably. Ooh look, Kingfish Jaws, do you want one of those?

There was reminiscing about forgotten passports and East Finchley station, number 13 buses, and a fair bit of excitement. Where shall we go? Kew? Of course. The museums? There are quite a few. Galleries? Tate? Modern? No the old one. British Museum. Nice roof. Derek Jarman’s garden. Sissinghurst. Not that fussed about Bath. But it is lovely. Or Stonehenge. Highgate Cemetery? Oh yes, let’s do the tour.

As we left Anna said “I can’t remember if I’m leaving on the 8^th or the 9^th. It’s one of them, but I’m not sure if I’m mixing it up with the 19^th which is when I leave Rome. I think.” It was a planning session short on details but long on excitement.

Next up is a rock’n’roll hamburger joint. That should be fun.

The first disappointment was Star Trek – a big, big mistake. I tried to defend it from Strop’s scathing assessments but came up with nothing – she even hated the continuity. I have totally blown any action film goodwill I may have been able to generate over the years, in the two and a half hours that travesty took to unfold. It’s going to be payback time from now on – lots of meaningful subtitles and issues-based capital C Cinema. Oh well, I’ll just get on with watching Game of Thrones on my own – no change there.

The second disappointment came in the form of our first quest casualty. We arrived on-site at 127 King Street only to find Jester Seeds a darkened husk. We had only been there the Friday before, when we had a very enjoyable end to our evening at Asakusa, getting merry with exotic cocktails. Now, only a brief week later, it has gone. Our first real-time example of the infamous King Street Churn. We cursed, we ummed, then we turned left and went next door to Kai on King. The quest’s first sushi train. Toot toot – insert link to train whistle mp3 file here.

Now we'll never know what that stupid name meant — Now we’ll never know what that stupid name meant

Sushi train – there is so much to like about the concept. Yum Cha meets industrial revolution? Yum Cha for robots? I don’t know why but I am inordinately fond of a dining experience that involves moving food. It adds a whole other layer of excitement and tension, and it often leads to the deposition of new layers of body fat as well. As the food comes towards you there is lots of anticipatory salivation as you try to work out what it is, then there is the moment of query as it reaches the apex of its trajectory relative to your orbit, “Sushi with green things and black sprinkles on the outside. Do we want that?” While you are trying to decide, it starts to move away from you and panic sets in. Quick get it, you think, before it goes, before someone else takes it. (Just wondering, has anyone ever been tempted to pick up someone else’s bag at an airport luggage carousel? Just to see what happens? No, me either.)

Following our poor choices last week at Asakusa, Strop informs me that she has made a new temporary rule: no more deep fried anything. I regretfully agree as I watch the soft-shell crab sushi trundle quietly past.

As we had anticipated, the Kai on King sushi train contains a lot of sushi, but there is also a smattering of sashimi and little signs advertising hot soupy and noodle-y foods as well. Wasabi, ginger and a very cute mayonnaise bottle go past, and there is a tense moment when Strop decants their contents into little bowls then manages to get the containers back into their original spaces on the conveyor belt as they go past on the return journey, by leaning precariously over the tracks. The ginger is the good not-pink kind, but the bulk wasabi turns out to be disappointingly mild and we resort to the little sachet stuff, which happily produces the correct level of nasal conflagration. Mayonnaise drizzling is very evident in the sushi (a trend I personally deplore), but we still manage to fill ourselves up without too much effort, leaving quite a stack of plates for the cashier person to count.

It's ok, I can do it — It’s ok, I can do it

There is nothing fancy here – it is an adequate, comfy local eatery. They even have a pile of magazines for you to read if you are so inclined or a bit lonely. I imagine it is reasonably popular with local students but I can’t imagine going out of our way to eat here again.

Next up is the highly anticipated Atom – lots of good reports have been word-of-mouthed to us – and the return of Number 37. Can’t wait.

381 Japone Sushi – A Star Trek cliche is fulfilled

129 – Kai on King – Our first casualty leads to food that flees and the thrill of the hunt