The past weekend found me in the babylon that is Tokyo, and as usual I made every effort to keep well away from what and where most tourists and the general run of foreigners with no taste tend to gather. To keep in the silent mode, trying to scratch well past the surface of contemporary culture, I went with my partner in crime to have a delightful breakfast at the Hotel Okura, that 50 year reserve of an older time's luxury. The Orchid Room, likely the best spot in the house (the hotel having a few restaurants and bars), is reminiscent of the Four Seasons Restaurant in terms of ceiling height and spaciousness, and was well worth the morning effort to enjoy a peaceful breakfast before the frenzied adventures that was to come.
Of course, I ordered the eggs benedict. I remain a person who often does the same things, despite the continent.
My only gripe about the Orchid Room was that it was not jacket and tie only for men. Some had a jacket, but they were older gentlemen. The younger of the men were more casual, befitting a place like the boutique hotels that crop up in the trendy cities. Not that the few who dined there that morning were poorly dressed,but if a few people who make just a little more effort would make the place shine ever more.
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