My last night in Japan, thumb Brad and I got off the streets and into the upper eschelons of Tokyo society, view literally. We headed to Shiodome, an unassuming – if tall – building from the outside. But inside, it is a luxurious, modern atrium surrounded by several floors of expensive, no, really expensive, bars and restaurants. All dark wood, translucent panes of glass etched and back lit, and an unbelievable, expansive view of the city highlighted by bars that face out towards uninterupted panes of glass. After an uncomfortable moment in the first bar,

where figured out we had to take our shoes off a bit late, then tried to sit in the best view reserved section, then balked at the cover charge for drinks, we went across the hall to a slightly less ridiculous place.
We spent the money we saved on the cover charge on several olives. Still, my martini was lovingly stirred, Brad’s whisky came in a glass with a giant spherical ice cube that perfectly fit the glass, and we had four oysters, which were stunningly good.

We then went to a robatayaki place in Roppongi, where the waiters all shouted each time someone placed an order. Brad got post traumatic stress disorder. I, however, got pretty drunk, so we had a lovely time. The food was good, and it was definitely fun. My favorite was the whole red snapper rubbed with salt,

But the skewered beef, served with fresh wasabi and grated green garlic on the side, was maybe the most delicious thing on a stick I’ve ever had.