Before heading to North Hollywood, I made some pretty extreme assumptions about what I was going to experience. I subconsciously set myself up to have the experience I thought I wanted to have. It would be perfect: I would find a place in Hollywood that fit my personality, somewhere that wasn't the tacky, grimy type of place I associated with L.A.
I'm still not sure what made me decide to go after that atmosphere. When I was trying to pick out a place to eat, I really struggled. My memoir and perfect meal choices weren't difficult at all because they were things I knew, things that were familiar and close to me. I guess that's why I thought NoHo would be a good choice for me; an up-and-coming Arts District sounded like something I would want to explore around Kalamazoo or in my home town of Minneapolis, so it would be the same in L.A., right? Going somewhere that seemed familiar would be comforting, just like my perfect meal and memoir were.
Unfortunately, Tokyo Delves was anything but comfortable.
From this assignment, I definitely learned about the power of a good or bad review. From reading Sam Sifton's work, I was still distanced from the reviews. I couldn't afford most of the places he was describing, let alone knew what a lot of the dishes were. They were beautifully crafted and fun to read, but didn't really leave an impression on me.
Before heading over to NoHo, I avoided reviews of the restaurant itself. I thought that would give me too many clues about Tokyo and I wanted to go in with an open mind. Now, having gone, I was really curious to see what other people thought about the place. I couldn't stop laughing as I skimmed through the many stories.
"This place is weird! i was pretty creeped out being in there..."
"This place is such a rip off!!"
"This place is only fun if you are loud and obnoxious, and/or you like loud and obnoxious people. When you get a bunch of loud, drunk people in the same room, and have top 40 music blasting, you get a mess of a good time."
"FUN IN A BOX. FUN IN A BOX. FUN IN A BOX!"
Even the positive reviews were horrifying. I can just see frat guys throwing sushi rolls into the air and catching them into their mouths before doing sake-bomb keg-stands."I say 5 stars, if you want to eat good sushi in a frat house/insane party atmosphere."
I'm glad I didn't read the reviews before I went. I would have been freaked out before we even got there. By going with an open-mind, I was able to take in the restaurant for what it was. But it definitely taught me that it will be extremely beneficial to read reviews in the future. When I'm abroad, I'm going to want to know what kind of place I'm going to, what the atmosphere is like, what the cost is, what kind of food I'm going to be served. From going to Tokyo, I've learned how important atmosphere can be. I would have NEVER gone to the bar if I had known what it was going to be like. It was hilarious and a pretty great time, but no one would have been able to convince me to go in there if I had known what was behind those windowless walls.
From this assignment I've learned that a review is more than the food and the price, it is both a warning and a suggestion—it is comforting. It removes our blindfold as customers before we waste $1.50 on subway fare only to be bombarded with raw fish and dynamite sauce.
OMFG THIS. REMEMBER?
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