It wasn’t my idea. We went to Benihana for the kidlet’s thirteenth birthday. That is an utterly appropriate reason for doing anything that involves umbrella drinks and salads composed of iceberg lettuce and carrot shreds.
I’m fairly certain our chef was drunk, or really really bored,
or both. I could see the wince when he flipped the thousandth shrimp
tail of the night into the breast pocket of his chef’s jacket and
clanged up a racket with his knives, salt-and-pepper shaker and spat. But it’s the show, you know; and like a sad, scary clown who smells a little weird but you have to take his balloon poodle anyway and thank him…
On the bright side, Benihana, and lots of other teppanyaki places, do what any other purely Japanese-American restaurant will do (and do it well): a good seared steak. Any idea that you’re going to get some veggies in this place should be abandoned at the door. In that spirit, so should any kind of desire to eat healthy.