Year of Eating Differently (92): Satsuma, Wardour Street

Ten years ago, this seemed a contender to Wagamama; noodles, a series of wooden benches where you sat facing your dinnertime companion, a similar minimally-laid out menu. These days, less so. While Wagamama has grown into a behemoth, there are few Satsumas around. On the positive side, this allows them to retain a staff of other-worldly beings; in this case a couple of random Scandinavian servers (Caira and Anders) and some Japanese people.
Furthermore, you get more on the menu. It costs more too, but it's good to get a bento in London. I was pretty much stuffed after I'd eaten all of this:

On the downside, you don't get any citrus fruit after you've finished your meal. But to be fair, the place is more likely to be named after the province in Kagoshima. But that's just a guess. Maybe there's a huge pile of fruit out back somewhere.

Year of Eating Differently (68): Geisya, Dean Street

This is more like it. Went to the South Bank last night and saw the Kneehigh Theatre put on a production of Rapunzel, which was very good, but like all pantomime about ten minutes too long. I think the Jenny liked it, although being American and not having a tradition of being dragged to the panto, probably hard for her to contextualise it. Anyway, after that strolled off to dinner, and had a woeful time at Wagamama's; weak miso soup, noodles that seemed to be in an arrabiata sauce - yeuch.
So today when an friend from out of town turned up and said she wouldn't mind Japanese, I was stoked, because I've been walking past Geisya for a while. Went in there (after getting lost and walking up and down Frith and Greek Streets instead) and disconcertingly we were the only diners - so it was us and the nervous waiter, plus a plasma screen with the Christmas Number Ones for the last 20 years playing. Thus, ambience scores about nil.

Food was great though - I think this is properly Japanese run, because the miso soup actually tasted of miso for a change, and the tempura was light and crunchy, rather than the soggy mess that Soba presented me with. My friend had sushi and apparently the fish was "like butter" - or poisson comme buerre, I suppose? Maybe I should have paid more attention in GCSE French.
Anyhow, the waiter was incredibly nervous, and I think Japanese (the handwriting gives it away, plus the terrible feeling of guilt I had when he had to come back and apologise for my first choice of meal being off) and then there's the qualm of whether you should tip or if that's actually a real faux-pas (it is in Japan, but if you're in London, who knows?), but this is irrelevant when the food is up to scratch, so all in all, all good. Shame I can't go back for the rest of the year, but hey.

Year of Eating Differently (43): Soba, Soho Street

Back from Japan and nostalgic for miso soup already, so a quick dash to Soba to get some takeaway - udon noodles in what appears to be a feeble attempt at miso (far too watery to taste of anything much at all), and some vegetable tempura. Frankly, the tempura is rubbish; tastes very greasy and not at all crispy; I suppose it may be unfair to compare a takeaway in London with the genuine article in Tokyo and Nagoya, but for goodness' sake, how hard can it be to do things right?