Sushi Counter, Tokyo

Ten seats at most, one chef working directly in front of you with nothing between the two of you but the case. Family crests tiled across the wall behind him, an old terracotta floor, and the whole room about the width of a hallway. Rooms like this one were the entire reason I detoured through Tokyo. Not the landmarks — small places doing a single thing carefully for a very long time. Four days was nowhere near enough.