I burned the curry chicken I had planned for dinner. I didn’t just burn it; I shriveled it into hell. I mistakenly left it for seven hours while I ran out of the house for my PowerPoint class. Arriving back at the pad, the smell of a scorched planet met my nostrils; luckily, the planet was contained in the oven and the house was fine—smelly, but fine. Of course, that left me with no dinner. I did the only thing I could do: I went downstairs to read my email. As I avoided my planet’s smell of India after a bad barbecue, my daughter Sophie told me she was in the mood for "shooshie"; I knew just the place. I signed off and prepared to re-enter planet Earth.

We headed out to San Rafael to a cozy little Japanese restaurant, Akira. Two wild women on a Saturday night, we noticed that Fourth Street in San Rafael is really sprucing itself up: sparkly lights in the trees, a new theatre, retail construction all over the place.

We made ourselves comfortable at a tiny window table in the seven-table restaurant. The curvy, light wood shooshie bar can hold about fifteen patrons and matrons and was rather full. The complex line of the ceiling soffitt and lighting design caused me to secretly admire the drywall framers and hangers. Yes, I then realized I had to get a life.

Sofe was adamant; she wanted shrimp tempura roll (5.50) and yakitori appetizer (3.75) with a Diet Coke chaser. Sophie gobbled down her sushi roll as if it were the Last Supper, so I figure it was good. The yakitori, too, is perfect for kids: lots of chicken on two sticks; in her inhalation of the comestibles, my ungrateful daughter did not even pause a second to offer me a bite.

I was plebian, ordered chicken teriyaki (8.95) and genmai cha (hot brown rice tea for 1.50). Miso soup and a small green salad came with my meal. I, of course, sacrificed my miso soup for Sophie and kept the fresh, little salad with thousand island dressing for myself. "Mom, you eat salad with chopsticks? Weird," was my daughter’s comment. She informed me that drinking from the bowl of miso was unladylike and she was going to use a spoon. The minute she tasted it she said, "Man, I love this stuff." And that, of course, was my last hope of getting a sip.

"Uh, what is this green thing?" Sofe hesitated a moment as she held a hanging thing from a chopstick she had poked into the soup. "Seaweed," I answered, thinking "Ha ha ha, you big hog; now you’ll share." "I’m supposed to eat seaweed?" my daughter asked. "That’s what fish eat in the ocean, only they don’t have it cooked." "Mmm hmm," I mumbled, hoping she’d tire of the miso. "Hey, it’s good!" was the last thing I heard before another slurp-a-thon. Thankfully, my teriyaki was just right: fresh, simple and accompanied by a few fresh vegetables and rice.

"Mom, this is how Mulan eats!" exclaimed my daughter as she began to master her chopsticks. She continued, "Mom, I am going to tuck up my hair like this and then go on a horse, like Mulan!" "Hmph," I thought, "Hope she leaves the miso behind."

Akira provided a happy Japanese experience for my daughter and me. It could provide a happy experience for you and your friends or family. I don’t recommend it for hot dates, but a cozy meal with your hubby would be good. You don’t mind if I had a cozy meal with your hubby, do you? Akira, 819 Fourth Street, San Rafael, Marin County, 415.457.3992. Restaurant, Sushi Bar, Take Out. Mon–Fri Lunch: 11:30 to 2:30; Mon-Thurs Dinner 5:30 to 10pm; Fri & Sat Dinner 5 to 10pm; Closed Sunday.

--Jolie Kanat

Reproduction of material from posthoc is prohibited without written permission.

Copyright 2002, Posthoc, Inc.

editor@posthoc.com