DC Anonymous

This restaurant is quite a drive.

Somehow we were invited to an opening of sorts at this place. Not being a real meal, seems kind of unreasonable to post a review with numbers and everything.

For some reason there are almost 10 of us attending this event. Perhaps someone thought that if you put enough asian girls and free booze in the same room something erotic's going to happen. Perhaps someone thought to carpet bomb a bunch of emails a random. Perhaps I don't really care.

Regardless, we really didn't know how far it was when agreeing to this thing, but we were committed.

Many minutes later we leave the car with an eager looking valet. 'Complimentary' of course, although the car boy basically begs for a tip. He gets a few dollars in the hopes he doesn't break the clutch. More on this later.

Ra - as in rhymes with Rah or Law or Hee-Haw apparently has nothing to do with Egypt. I'll bet someone with a marketing degree came up with that snappy name to remind us that sashimi isn't cooked. B-

The restaurant has essentially been cleared to make room for casino type games. Also, all the windows and doors are open, matching the interior and exterior temperatures. This is also known as sweaty hades.

So, where's the food? Ah, I see. There's a buffet style line up on the right side of the room. There's also a line essentially two thirds of the way around the place to get at the snacks. She gets a place in line. I acquire drinks.

The bar is several bodies deep. I ask for a sake recommendation, and instead someone tosses me a laminated bar menu. Hey, service at its' finest!

There are 13 sakes available, arranged not by type nor grade, but instead by volume. Finding nothing especially to my liking on this list that I could comfortably drink in such a setting I ask for a Grey Goose Martini with a twist of lemon. I'll bet you didn't see that one coming, did you?

It's not my first one ever, though. I thought it would be a nice, cold drink with some booze in it that I could enjoy while sweating it out to get at the food. Ah, first sip - yyeooowch! I imagine this is what Japanese nipple lightening creme tastes like: an almost indescribable combination of caustic chemicals designed to strip the pigments off your body sounds about right. Plano tap, please!

Anyway, back to the line up. By this time, some more of our friends have made the journey and some drinks are running around, but the food, the food, so close, yet so far!

The event is punctuated by uncomfortable girls in white face wearing Leg Avenue grade geisha costumes and cowboy boots and some other ones dressed like Cuban revolutionaries. They're friendly, if a little strange looking. They take Polaroids of us and move along.

The other entertainment is a man with turntables. Since he can't beatmatch to save his life, but does crossfade several Puff Daddy, Ma$e and BIG songs together, he gets classified Wedding Dj.

Ah Ha or rather, Ah HAW! The food! What we have here is a large plate of salmon and shrimp nigri. It's fine. Nothing to complain nor rave about there.

I pass on the California roll. Come on.

There are a few hot dishes including some chicken wings, skewers and a tempura shrimp. Couple gyoza, too.

The wings are wings. Fine, I suppose. I am just really hungry at this point.

The tempura is pretty close to acceptable. It's on a wooden skewer and although the batter actually isn't terrible, the shrimp itself feels slightly overcooked.

The gyoza are divided between pork (?) and an edgy spinach! Basically straight out of the bag at KoMart to your plate!

There are also a few wandering snack platters. One roll has some other name I cannot recall, but basically was a spicy tuna roll with a fried slice of lotus root on top. It's massive. Disturbing trend at these things are these possibly tasty but inedible rolls that take three bites all while standing, balancing a plate and a drink at the same time.

Next, they're going to crack a keg of sake. Just sake, noone knows what kind - so fun! Let's count to three in Japanese! Let's pour! People look at us strangely for cheering kanpai!

I've said before that I really like the sake presentation of the large masu packed with ice and the drink nestled into the glass. Since this is going to be a mass event, I see this isn't possible and there are probably a hundred unfinished masu stacked up at the sake keg.

Aaaannd this is why you lacquer the masu. They must have just ordered the cups because you can almost smell it. I try it anyway. It's a real shame. For whatever sake they've got, it could be excellent, but it's totally destroyed by the wood leeching into the drink. If you want to recreate this flavor, I suggest you go to Home Depot and gnaw on some pressure treated pine for a few minutes.

Long sigh.

The crowd is a mix of women who have had too many lip injections and men who are probably executive vice managers of corporate development or something. The injection thing has to stop when you've got labia majora AND minora on your face.

I realize this is part of my cohort. They still listen to the same 90s music. They're still trying to pick each other up. At this place and at this event, quite frankly, they're having a blast.

I hate it.

We pile our crew up to move on. It's hard for me to conclude this piece. The drinks were simply terrible. The music was out of a Wal Mart dance compilation CD. I suppose the food was ok for a buffet at a bar, so we weren't really shooting for the stars. At least no post event GI destruction happened, though.

Yet, Ra is somehow perfect. It has no apparent idea about Japanese food nor how to serve sake. I doubt these things fit in to the corporate paradigm vision.

As the valet pulls up the car, I look back to see some group of sweaty men with rolled up sleeves dancing with women who have collagen vaginas on their faces and I realize they couldn't be more content. I feel happy for them somehow that in this environment they've got some place that offers them some entertainment.

Go back for a full review? Wouldn't say never...

Post script:

So, I give the complimentary valet money to park the car. Then, another one brings the car back. He opens the door for me, which I appreciate, but he's screwed around with the seat so badly that I have to do a Hungarian contortionist routine to get it back the way I set it in the first place. The guy is still standing there, basically hand out. So, do you tip one of them again, especially since they couldn't put the seat back? Completely unnecessary.

Long drive home.

4 months, 2 weeks ago ( Link to this comment | Suggest removal )