My imagination supplied the drumroll as the eel slithered in. Arrayed in a straight line on a white plate, the five swatches were stripey and brown like bacon, cinched at the waist with strips of laver like Victorian dress dummies. Each morsel was balanced on a tiny boxcar of daikon radish dyed deep red to resemble a child's wooden block. After we enjoyed the unspeakably rich and smoky flavor of the eel, equitably dividing the odd piece between us, my date and I expressed regret over having demolished a dish so... More >>>