Book. Bar. Cafe.

The name says it all. The minimalist style leaves little in the way of your enjoyment of the books, the bar, and the cafe. You should definitely come here when you feel like relaxing and sipping an outrageously delicious beverage.  When I visited in mid-summer, the umeshu was delectable. The two women working there at the time (perhaps sisters jointly owning the place?) were extremely nice and friendly in their manner, but very quiet and deliberate in their actions. The differences in the plums used for each of the two types of handmade umeshu that we sampled were explained in a very matter-of-fact professional style that somehow never lost the human touch and made me feel very welcome. The umeshu, by the way was absolutely delicious and really opened my eyes to why everyone goes to the trouble of making their own every year. It simply can’t be compared to the commercially available umeshu; they are two separate beverages (comparing them would be like comparing Gran Marnier (orange infused congac) to a Screwdriver (orange juice and vodka) — not really a reasonable thing to do if you ask me).

The bar gave a nice rustic charm to the place, but the sleek designer refrigerator right next to it ensured that the modern edge was not lost. The kitchen was also behind the bar, and in cafe v. bar, the cafe might win. The homey comfortable feel of the bar was not lost on me though, as I enjoyed a very relaxing repose of an evening in its company. That’s right, this is the sort of place at which you can enjoy a “relaxing repose of an evening.”

The plants by the window were surely cleaning the air and regulating the temperature while giving off the oxygen that I need to survive — for which I am quite grateful — but they were just barely on the wrong side of the wide line delineating the border between minimalist chic and cluttered jungle. Don’t get me wrong; I easily grew used to them within minutes, and they did nothing to make me uncomfortable, they just didn’t all seem to fit with the rest of the decor. Perhaps just one or two fewer would appease my inner decorator (that I heretofore did not know existed).

And finally, here are the books. With an interesting supply of eclectic Japanese coffee books, one could spend a long time browsing through them all. There were quite a number of very old fashion books/magazines mixed in, but I was pulled into orbit by the gravity well of untold varieties of goldfish packed into a tome of glossy color wonder. I stayed long enough to study every page of that book and don’t regret it a bit. They were like Darwin’s finches or Mendel’s peas; the variety is astounding.

Goldfish, apparently, are quite Japanese.