#8: La Gorda, Jan. 25

Another Metropolis find, La Gorda is a Cuban restaurant tucked away on a side street in Roppongi that has so many awesome-looking eateries, I could spend the entire year dining only on that street and still not hit all of them.

I was lured in by the siren song of roasted chicken, a dish I crave constantly but rarely find. (Add to my list of things I miss about the States: rotisserie chicken in grocery stores.) Metropolis specifically mentioned this chicken -- along with lamb kebabs and ropa vieja -- and La Gorda's menu touted it as the restaurant's specialty, marinated for hours in the chef's special sauce.

I ordered a quarter chicken and settled in with a book, visions of Boston Market dancing in my head. (And my mouth.) I was surprised when my order came out barely three minutes later; surprised again that the chicken portion was smaller than I'd been picturing; and surprised most of all that the entree came with two sides that hadn't been listed on the English menu -- black beans and rice, and a colorful salad with carrots, red peppers, Romaine lettuce and purple cabbage. The cost for this meal? 1,000 yen -- an unheard-of bargain at dinner. Lunch sets in this neighborhood usually cost around that much and include a side or two, but at dinner, the prices go way up and the sets are abandoned.

For 1,900 yen, I could have gotten half a chicken, or a whole one for 3,700. At first, I wished I'd gotten the half, but the beans and rice were filling, and midway through the meal I knew I'd gotten the right portion. The chicken itself was a bit of a disappointment -- the white meat was somewhat on the dry side, surprising given the long marinating process. The crispy, tangy skin was delicious, though. I could have made a meal out of that! Not a healthy meal, mind you, but if you served me a half pound of that skin, I wouldn't complain. (This reminded me of a former boyfriend who'd grumble every time I ordered French onion soup. He knew I had little interest in the broth, and zero interest in the onions or the soggy crouton. "Why don't you just ask for a big glob of melted cheese?" he'd say. "That's all you really want." It was true. "Can I have half a chicken worth of skin?")

La Gorda also offers your typical rum drinks -- mojito, pina colada -- and a couple of beers. I'd planned to get a pina colada but was distracted by the handwritten sign outside offering "hot rum." It was cold out, and the thought of a delicious mug of hot buttered rum, the brown sugar melting in my mouth, was irresistable. I hesitated for a second before ordering it, with one side of my brain arguing that the sign didn't say anything about "buttered." It just said "hot rum." But the other side said that was ridiculous; of course they wouldn't just serve a big glass of heated Havana Club.

Yeah. It was just a big glass of heated Havana Club. About 12 ounces, in fact, served in a soda glass that was too hot to hold for most of my meal. That wasn't much of a problem, because once I realized I could smell the pure rum from six feet away, I had no intention of drinking it. I called for some water and spent the meal praying that the women smoking at the bar wouldn't ignite my neglected drink. The lesson here is clear: never pass up a chance to drink a pina colada.

http://www.lagorda.co.jp/

#7: Marvelous Cream, Jan. 18

Speaking of things that wouldn't fly in the States: a photo of this storefront would end up on FAILblog, and deservedly so.

Oh, get your minds out of the gutter: it's ice cream. And it really is marvelous.

Marvelous Cream is similar to Cold Stone Creamery, in that its staff chops up ingredients on a marble slab to blend with your ice cream. It's different in that the portion sizes are manageable, so you don't waddle out feeling like you just ingested 8,000 calories worth of butterfat and Oreos.

I ended up here not because I felt a need to expand my ice cream horizons, but to kill time between "(500) Days of Summer" and "The Young Victoria" on MLK Day. Most of that time was spent translating the katakana menu, but I was able to read it, albeit slowly, and I settled on a combination involving raspberries and raspberry macarons. Heavenly, especially the bites with macaron chunks.

Marvelous Cream is a chain based in Japan (I went to the Hibiya Chanter location) that's also expanded to Singapore. I'd have to make more visits (many more visits ... raspberry macarons ...) to say for sure, but I think I prefer it to Cold Stone, which is inexplicably popular in Japan, with lines stretching out the door even in winter.

http://www.marvelouscream.com/

#6: GARB Pintino, Jan. 12

GARB Pintino is one of the reasons I started this project. It's next to my doctor's office, so I'm always walking past it and thinking its patio looks inviting and intending to try it, but never getting around to it. My underlying goal this year is to stop intending to do things and actually do them. So after my latest doctor visit, I decided to move this place out of the "I should eat there sometime" column.

The patio that looked so enticing in the summer was open despite the rain and the chill, thanks to thick plastic sheeting and heaters, but I chose to sit inside because the padded benches looked cozier and I wanted to be far away from the weather.

The lunch menu offered half a dozen sets for around 1,000 yen, but my choices were limited to the dishes whose kanji I could read. (I'm kind of surprised that GARB -- sitting across the street from the entrance to Tokyo Tower -- didn't have an English menu, because it seems like an ideal spot for tourists.) I picked strips of whitefish in a delicate tempura batter flavored with wasabi, and loved it. My only complaint was that the tomato sauce accompanying a side of grilled zucchini spilled onto the fish, which masked and ruined the flavor.

Lunch sets are the best way to eat cheap in Tokyo, and this one was no exception -- it also included a huge salad, a post-meal cup of tea or coffee and two delicious rolls. The waitress didn't seem to mind my lingering over a book, and even offered me more rolls.

I'd like to come back here for dinner, when the patio is open, and with someone who can understand the menu better than me. I don't think there's any hope for understanding the restaurant's odd name, though.

GARB Pintino: http://www.garb94.com/pintino/