Last night, the pesca-vorous cravings were in full force; so Nora and I went on a long and eventually fish-ful search to fulfill our wasabi accented raw sea dweller needs
Our venue of choice? Sushi 69 in San Anselmo (now do you get the oh-so-witty-of-me title of this post?)
First of all, I am not terribly familiar with downtown San Anselmo, but according to Nora’s iPhone we were a mere 278 feet from the restaurant when I parked my car on the main road, San Anselmo Avenue. What began was a trek in the sun…not any trek in the sun though considering I wore my dangerous 4.5-inch stilettos (it was a very Rumi Neely-inspired outfit along with $8 leggings, that Zara top from the last post and of course some compensating Jimmy Choo arm candy and Chanel wayfarers).
Oh yeah and Nora was wearing black Uggs on an eighty degree day. Really? Uggs? I’m about to revoke that Stylephile cred...kidddddding.
Anyways, according to Nora’s iphone the restaurant was in the bushes, we walked around and around not knowing where the hell this little Sushi crib was and I was about ready to give up and just go have a lobster cobb at L’Appart Resto when I decided I would whip out ze Blackberry and get directions. And then we found Sushi 69, tucked down a ramp behind a bus-stop (and sort of in the bushes).
Point of the story: Blackberry > iPhone
Obviously walking in the sun in 4.5 inch stilettos (or Uggs) for 15 minutes builds up a substantial appetite:
We finished just about everything and our waiter apparently resembled Diane Kruger’s boyfriend (then Nora looked up his name on her iPhone because it was bugging her like no other…but I already forgot because I only pretended to agree with her- I don’t even know what this dude looks like).
Besides the food, it was good sister bonding time consisting of Nora trying to convince me to move back up to Portland (haha so I can drive her to New Seasons Market so she can get her custom wok noodles), but it’s definitely overpriced even for Marin standards (in other words this is a forewarning to the parental units of what to expect on my next credit card bill).
What do you normally order at Japanese restaurants?
iPhone or Blackberry?