Tokyo. New Year’s Eve. It’s cold and rainy. Colder than I was ready for after a few weeks on the beaches in Thailand. The rain was real. Soaking through my soft-sided suitcase as I walked the few short blocks from Ikebukuro Station to my lodgings. It was dark out early and the brightness of the street lights almost made up for the lack of natural daylight. This environment was the absolute opposite of the remote tropical islands I’d just been on. Tokyo was busy, crowded, chilly, and disorienting at that exact moment.
My friends in Tokyo pinged me about evening plans.
“Ready to go out tonight?”
“Hungry?”
Of course, I was hungry! But it was nearly 11:00 pm. Where would we go that would still be open and serving?
“Just meet us in Roppongi,” they texted back confidently. Apparently I didn’t need to know where we were going. They had it handled. Food, drinks, dancing. I’d experience it all before the night was over.
We met at a ramen restaurant. Despite the late hour, we were ushered in to a brightly lit bustling shop. Our ramen options were presented to us from a vending machine, where I could select the number, insert my coins, and order up my dish. It was all so orderly. The efficient ordering system, our coats neatly hung on metal hangers on the wall behind us. It was warm and happy inside this ramen establishment. The food was already putting me into a better mood and Beyonce was playing in the background, so the party was on.
From the streets of Tokyo in December, it felt as if it was a dark quiet, frigid, place. But as soon as I entered the hidden food and drink scene, I realized how lively and happening the city was. It was just set back off of the street. You’d never know it was there.
We went to another food establishment with an alley entrance next. There were brightly lit lanterns outside but the sliding doors obscured how truly large it was inside. Walking in, there were food stalls set up on every square inch of the premises. I kept walking to see if this seemingly chaotic market of cuisine had an end. People were perched at small tables and laughing, chatting on cell phones, playing board games, and taking shots. It was certainly a scene.
At this point, my companions and I had a good base layer. The food had been exceptional and filling, warming me right up. We had barely spent anything on our last meal of the calendar year and yet it has been one of the most exciting tours of Japanese cuisine that I’d experienced yet.
Next up, we were ready to head for cocktails. If there is one thing I have realized about Japanese culture, it is excellence in everything they do. Cocktails, naturally, are a true art form. For the NYE occasion, we decided to try Bar Tram - recommended to us by industry professionals who sling drinks in both Bali and LA.
The bar itself was up a steep set of steps with only a small sign on the stairwell with the slogan “Get Drunk Differently” to let passerby know it was there. As soon as we entered, we realized it was made up to look like a Gilded Era Parisian themed bar specializing in Absinthe. It was clearly in the tradition of the hangouts popularized by artists and returning soldiers in Paris during the 1890’s (when absinthe was in its heyday). But here we were in Tokyo. Patrons were sitting around the bar smoking cigarettes languorously. So very chic.
We ordered the absinthe carafe and our bartenders explained to us how to place the sugar on the spoons and delicately let the absinthe drip into our drinks.