Clean Plate Club

Show me a size zero woman in Tokyo and she will be a good eater. Just 1 % of the population measures size 2 and over. Drugstores sell glue to keep knee socks from sliding down slender shins. Unlike our revered Jackie O, who nibbled half of everything, local custom is to scrape the plate clean. Not finishing a meal would insult the cook, no matter how "healthy" (code for 'slimy') the dish. As a rule, the first bite inspires the reaction: Oishii (tasty)! It's all about portion control: Americans devour twice as many calories per day as Tokyoites.

Kindly H-san guided me from Kudanshita station, Exit 5, to a hole-in-the-wall reported as serving the most "balanced bowl of ramen" (Japanese style Chinese noodles) in town. Ramen shops are to Tokyo as pizza shops are to Manhattan. Our 11 AM rendezvous insured quick seating as the four tables in Ikaruga fill up quickly. With the entire nation sitting down to lunch at noon, everyone rushes to get there first. By 11:15, Yen 770 tickets purchased, we scored two of the 15 bowls on offer for the daily special. At 11:20 hot salty broth with noodles, sea weed and a slice of pork steamed in front of me. Outside a dozen people formed a queue. Oishi! we agreed.

Men on both sides of us slurped their bowls down, apparently winning the race. (Eating noisily is recommended.) "We're the only women here!" H-san whispered, not to mention that I was the lone gaijin. All the other diners were "salarymen" in jackets and ties. "She's from New York," H-san informed the wait staff, who realized that I read about this place in the Saturday IHT. At noon, we were on the sun-drenched street as the day turned unseasonably warm. We passed Hotel Grand Palace, the site of a notorious political kidnapping. Next stop: Takashimaya in Nihonbashi, a 7 minute subway ride on the Tozai sen.

Art galleries on the top floors of the better department stores lure people up although shoppers are hanging on to their yen these days. Thanks to the Tokyo American Club I had two tickets for the Shizuka Kusano show, a maze displaying intricate embroidery on kimono, obi and smaller items. Kusano-sensei herself, in elegant kimono, strolled the gallery, greeting her many followers. We examined everything until we felt dizzy from the patterns, and then strolled to Ginza. Foregoing the ubiquitous Starbucks and Tullys cafes, we settled on a place off the main drag for an iced drink to complete our visit.

How pleasant to receive a post mortem email from G-san this evening about the success of Sudoku Fun Day. It was a good opportunity for the staff to practice English, he observed. "Looking forward to our next one at NEW TAC," he wrote, referring to 2011. Could it be the lure of those pastrami sandwiches with sauerkraut drawing them back?