Dinner with ninjas

            If there's anything I find more fascinating than the life of a spy, it's the way of the ninja. Throw a few of those ninja in a restaurant serving high-end Asian food and it's a Japanese experience of excellent proportions. When I found out that my younger brother, Jason, was stopping by to visit me from Virginia, on his way to Massachusetts for our cousin's wedding this weekend, I had to make reservations for us at Ninja. I've been anxious to go to this place since a co-worker told me about it months ago. I completely forgot about it until yesterday, when it happened to pop into my cranium while I was trying to figure out where I could take him that would be both appetizing and entertaining. This was perfect, he's one of the few people in my family that loves sushi and most likely to try new things. Also, who doesn't like ninjas?

            As Jason finally rolled up in the beast of a hog he was riding, I couldn't help but worry about how safe it was to have this bike parked in city streets, because I've never noticed one around here before. My assumption for this was that they've all been stolen and sold in pieces to the highest bidder. Of course, I didn't tell him that. Ignorance is bliss. I just had him park it in front of the nicest apartment complex, under the brightest streetlight on the block. Guess we'll see if it made it through the night when we get up in the morning.

            Once Jason's prized possession was carefully parked and unloaded, we set out for Tribeca to grab our grub. When we were looking for the building number of the restaurant, we nearly missed the entrance had it not been for the four-foot lantern placed by the front of the door. Inscribed on the lantern were a few Japanese characters, which told us we might have found the place. The front door looked like someone's high-end apartment until you walked inside. Then it just looked like we walked into a cave. In front of us, stood a looming grey elevator where a smiling Asian woman sitting behind a podium. The woman checked us in then called for the elevator. When it arrived she ushered us in with another party of three and just before the elevator closed behind us, the woman poked her head in just as the doors were closing, and quipped, "beware of ninjas" with an eerie giggle that lingered in our ears as we took a ride to the basement.

            The moment the elevator doors opened the five of us nearly jumped out of our skins as a man dressed in black from the neck down came out of nowhere screeching, "WHATAH! Good evening and welcome to Ninja." Once I put my skin back on, we proceeded to follow the mercenary man in black through the doors and to a foyer. As we stood in front of two doors, our ninja guide pointed at the door to our right and said that we had the option to go that way, which was the quickest and simplest way, or we could go through the door to our left which was "the ninja way." We all looked at each other and took a sharp left.

            Walking through the narrow passageway, designed to give us the impression that we were in an underground dwelling of feudal Japan, it felt as if we were walking through one of Disney's magnificently themed haunted rides. The passages were dark so it kept us on edge for ninjas popping out of nowhere, like our friendly guide who seemed to have disappeared. Where DID he go? We crept cautiously on floors in the semblance of stone, walls of rock, and bamboo railings until..."WHATAH!" We found our guide, and lost our skins again.

            Reunited with our stealthy guide, we were led through the village dining area of huts decorated with latticed windows and sliding screen doors, set for private dining, to our table located in the water rock garden area. In this section we sat surrounded by six other tables set on different levels of the room. In the dim lighting, it was difficult to see a ninja coming or going, unless they were directly in the dining area. So every now and then, we would get a "HIYAH" here and a "WHATAH" there, followed by a jab to the neck with a retracting knife or a punch towards the face stopped short about an inch from our noses. The whiplash was so severe by the end of the meal, I had to grab hold of my neck every time our ninja stopped by to scare the bejesus out of us and I doubled over in laughter.

            The food we ordered was amazing. Not only was it all so full of flavor, but it was also another contributing factor to the entertainment we devoured. Our entrees of buffalo fish and lotus chips came to us in pots cascading with smoke that avalanched over our table and onto our laps. I had just as much fun looking at it as I did eating it. For desert we decided on the "sunny side up." This was a tofu cheesecake that looked like the white of an egg topped with a small rounded scoop of mango moose, to look like an egg yolk, and a cinnamon "bacon" twist off to the side, all sitting in a smoking, miniature skillet. It was a beautiful display of art and cuisine.

            I can't remember the last time I was so entertained while I was eating a meal. Except for maybe when I was growing up with my brothers and we did everything we could to entertain each other just to avoid eating another bite of our vegetable laden supper. I'll be sleeping with a stiff neck and a split in my side tonight, but it was worth every ach and pain. I look forward to going back there again. Next time I'll have to try out those village huts. WHATAH!