If I was a better (meaning 'more motivated') cook, I'd probably whip myself up some Greek food at least four nights a week. I love the stuff. Gyros, tzatsiki, moussaka, any kind of cheese pastry or pie and lots of spanakopita.
So, you can imagine that living in rural Japan was pretty tough on me diet-wise. In fact, the closest Greek restaurant was in Shibuya, Tokyo, a two hour shinkansen ride from Kurihara-shi. Needless to say, whenever we had to make a trip down to Tokyo (conferences, flights, Tokyo Disney) we all went out for Greek. And you couldn't ask for a better atmosphere...
Down a narrow side staircase, you'd almost miss the place if you weren't looking. The only sign was a small Greek flag hanging behind a large sign for the shop next door.
Downstairs it was like walking into a cozy rembetika club. The owner was a Greek who had married a Japanese woman. He barely spoke any English so we had to order in a mix of Japanese and Greek which was always fun. The best part?
His paintings proudly on display about the restaurant. Who knew that sex and Kennedy would compliment each other so well?
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