Before getting into Awomb, a few observations on queues and queuing. Or, in American parlance, standing in line (or on line). 1. Nothing turns me off queuing like seeing a queue. 2. Besides staging a crash outside your new shop or restaurant, nothing generates interest quite like a queue. 3. The Japanese are such peerless and patient queuers, they should consider installing it as an Olympic sport for Tokyo 2020: the 100-meter queue; the 500-meter queue; the 10,000-meter queue.
Awomb opens daily (except Wednesdays) at 12 p.m. The queue usually starts at 11. This was my second visit, or attempted visit; I gave up on the first occasion. The woman seated next to me during lunch spent two hours one weekend in the line before giving up. So what is all the fuss about?
The fuss is about sushi — or teori-zushi to be precise, which is a riff on maki-zushi, the sushi that comes rolled in nori (seaweed) and that you find everywhere from supermarkets to sushi restaurants. At Awomb, however, it's you who does the rolling, or hand-weaving, as the word teori implies. However, this prosaic explanation hardly prepares you for what is to come. This is not just another sushi experience.