Recently, I went to Manabe Island, in Okayama Prefecture, two islands away from mine. The island has a population of 400 and only one restaurant. But the restaurant, called Ryouka, is so famous, you need reservations to get in for lunch on weekends. Meals are 5,000 yen per person, and the favored transportation to the restaurant is by private boat.
After docking our yacht in Manabe port, my three Japanese friends and I approached the restaurant, where the waitress was outside scooping live shrimp into a large, shallow lacquerware bowl. A rather fancy way to transport shrimp to the grill, eh? We were ushered into the restaurant, past the pool of live fish in the center of the room, and up the stairs to a private tatami-mat room.
Shortly after, the waitress came in with another large, shallow lacquerware bowl. Wait a minute, that's not another -- it's the same large, shallow lacquerware bowl with the same live shrimp in it! She placed the bowl in the center of the table. The shrimp were on their sides paddling their legs furiously in the low water. "What the heck are we supposed to do with these?" I thought, looking around for a hibachi. Silly me. We were supposed to eat them -- while they were still alive and kicking!