Tanuki has earned itself something of a bad-ass rep with its uncompromising, take-it-or-leave-it attitude. The place is deliberately dingy and along with the non-stop, ultra-violent Japanese movies playing, it’s almost as if diners are being tested to see whether they merit eating there (though the lo-fi interior is refreshing in a town overflowing with reclaimed wood and vintage typefaces). It’s certainly not the place to spend a sunny afternoon, though that’s what I did recently, indulging my inner, moody teenager and perversely enjoying the gloom.
You go to Tanuki for the remarkable Japanese and Korean omakase (basically the chef serves a bunch of small dishes of her choice) but I hadn’t realized they also have a happy hour. There were a few snacks on offer but the standout item was the kimchi dog. Also, in recognition that summer was happening outside there was a rather good saké sangria. I was all set, lining up the dog for a first bite. Then, in a moment of twisted serendipity I glanced at the screen, sunk my teeth into the sausage and watched as a bound man had his dick bitten off by a woman. Now this could have been the site of a major trauma, a psychological disaster on par with witnessing your parents having sex. I could have ended up as a Freudian cliché, unable to confront a hotdog again without conjuring up associations of castration.
Fortunately I was spared such anguish through a combination of the kimchi dog tasting so good nothing was going to stop me from enjoying it (the pleasures of eating usually absorb anything else going on in my mind anyway) and the fact that the movie featured such a ludicrous amount of blood squirting everywhere it was more akin to a Monty Python sketch that an object of horror. Still, next time at Tanuki I’ll keep my eyes on my plate, just in case. Tanuki, 8029 SE Stark