“It tastes better than it looks,” I allow. He chuckles.
“The food here is very good,” he tells me. “Because it’s so authentic. Not every western palate rushes to embrace Japanese food.”
“It’s good,” I agree. “But yeah, it’s different. Teriyaki chicken is usually as Japanese as I go. You know, not counting the five hundred cases of Top Ramen I ate in college.”
“There are plenty of opportunities for ramen in Japan,” he says.
I shrug. “So I’m more authentic than I thought.”
All told, it’s a lovely lunch date. I can easily walk home, but I’m in no particular hurry to separate from Nick. He mentions a need for shaving cream and a Mountain Dew, and I tell him there’s a Walgreens on the next corner. He smiles when I say “I’ll walk up there with you.” I smile when he takes my hand.
Colfax is
