Like the lonely man who tried to invite himself on my two-week April vacation on the first date, Kantaro cuts to the chase. No polite fillers of silence, just a stunning Sashimi Plate to start. The black seabass slices are transparently thin, and the fatty parts dissolve. The tuna is a sophisticated cut with a flavor as deep as the red, but the monkfish liver pate has delicate liver-savor flavors that come to life on the tongue.
The tuna is pretty, and the monkfish is just a boring beige, but personality is what matters in the end. Some personalities are as rich as the fatty belly ofToro, and others have a more subtle polish like the Amber Jack. It really just comes down to what you prefer, but desperation is never desirable. That said, you can't force someone to like you. "I love how much he stalked me after the second date", said no woman ever. Oh, and no woman is going to marry you because you accused her of leaving you hanging... While she was asleep.
Good things don't have to be deliberate - they have a tendency to reappear. The black sea bass sashimi-garnish makes quite the encore as lightly battered boxes of flaky fish and grainy seeds of fish egg. You can also break off chunks of bone for a fish n' chips-like crunch.
If there is no chemistry, or if something just doesn't feel right, nothing anyone does will change the outcome. A real connection is pure, smooth sweetness with just the right blaze of fire and tinge of tang like the Halibut and Scallop nigiri with yuzu pepper and a drop of lemon.
If you're lucky enough to find a true, mutual connection, be sure to never let it go. That said, some things are better left unsaid. Ignorance is one such thing. When asked why you have no desire to leave the country, for example, you may want to make up with a better excuse than, "You know, those Mexican drug cartels, they murder people." Never feeling the rays of a tropical sun burst over your skin like pearls of Salmon Roe on your taste buds is a crying shame, and never immersing yourself in a culture unlike your own is almost as sad as never tasting the sweet grit of a good Blue Crab.
The worst date I ever went on lasted a grand total of ten torturous minutes. I'm usually pretty non-confrontational, but this time I used constructive criticism. I actually SAID... Aloud..."You can't be ugly AND mean. You have to be ugly and nice, hot and mean, or rich and any combination of the above... And you'll never be rich enough."
What was rich, however was the deep-fried white-fish Maki and small Chirashi Bowl. The octopus was a temperate, firmly-soft flap that released a little fragrance with each chew. The tasty tuna made a welcome reappearance, and an amaebi reared its ugly head.
But unlike that disaster-date, they can take the amaebi head back to the kitchen to fix its flaws. The head has a crazy, craveable crunch when they bring it back battered and fried, and don't let the idea of head freak you out - it tastes a little like roe.
Unlike all my dates, my dinner at Kantaro actually ended well. The Yellowtail Hand Roll didn't fall apart under my sarcastic bite, a slimy-appearing Eel turns sweet with the right boil and a brush of sauce, a smooth Tamago finishes with a fine touch...
And Green Tea Ice Cream is a lightly-sugared encore to the perfect meal.
Online dating isn't what it used to be. You never know if you're getting what you paid for nowadays, and the only thing I've learned is that I wasn't getting my money's worth on Match. Twenty-five dollars a month can't find me a man that doesn't look like a nightmare, but a mere $45 gets me the omekase of my dreams. From now on, I think I'll put my money where my mouth is.
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