Sassy chicks and Sashimi

With only a few more days to go having Malena in our office – yes, after almost 12 months of interning the time has come for her to move on to more profitable pastures – Kelly and I decided a night of sashimi and red wine was in order, for the three of us.

Every city has one. A Chinatown, that is. Londoners make their way to Soho when in search of red lanterns, smiling kittens, sweet dumplings and fried noodles. Last night the streets were particularly festive in celebration of Chinese New Year, but walking the already troublesome cobblestone pathways was made even more treacherous given the scattered vegetable-debris that seems to litter all Chinatowns, no matter the city they’re in.

Dressed to the nines, with patent-leather ankle boots and big designer bags (mine was the only fake), we bustled our way through the crowds only to find ourselves lost somewhere near The Ivy. Thankfully the doorman at this coveted establishment was only too pleased to help three wandering ladies; he politely guided us back the way we’d come, with pin-point accuracy, to our restaurant of choice, Tokyo Diner.

Hidden amongst the chaos, Tokyo Diner offers its patrons true Japanese service. They’re stern and efficient although they make no apologies for customers waiting for their sushi. With only one sushi chef on hand they assert quality over quickness; however, refreshingly they refuse all tips. In accordance with Japanese principles tipping is not accepted, any money “accidentally left on tables” is donated to the local homeless mission. For three poor interns, this was a blessing.

The best part of the evening, besides the girly chat and giggles of course, was the £6.90 bottle of Merlot – not surprisingly unlabeled – but not a bad drop indeed!