Sushi and Mika Memories

Usually the first thing I do when I return to Geneva from Argelès is to eat sushi, but this time knowing I was going to another restaurant the evening of my arrival, I decided to wait. I figured the next day, but the next day turned into the next day and the next and then it was next week and then...

Some of Geneva’s Japanese restaurants cost about the same as raising a first born child at least to university entrance, but there is one that sells to other restaurants, is a small Japanese grocery store and therefore about half price of the other place. It has about eight small square tables and is self servcie.

The name is the same as my poor little Japanese Chin who had so many birth defects that his life was shortened, although in between problems he had a happy life, visiting with my Czech neighbors who hand-fed him salami in little bites and lifting his leg against grass blades (whereas the larger Amadeus, also a chin, could do bushes and trees), being loved and pampered.

Both the dog and the restaurant are Mikado, with the French pronunciation of Meek-ah-due not the English of Me-karh-do.

I still miss my chins, who are all in the great dog biscuit factory in the sky, but I travel too much, and I also will remain dogless unless by some miracle I have a garden which does not necessitate walks at weird hours in weird weather conditions.

Today was the day for the sushi, and it was a good thing, because they are closing for their summer holiday and won’t be open again until after the 13th.