Mishima Baby

My old friend Alice Talley is responsible for my love of soba. She got me hooked on the cold buckwheat noodles when we were in highschool. She even worked at Mifune for a bit, the best place in S.F.'s Jtown for a big plate of tenzaru. When Aaron and I started dating I was so happy he enjoyed it as much as I did. Cupid's arrow sank a little deeper when I saw him slurpping his noodles. Here in L.A., the best place for a cold bowl is Mishima. As newlyweds, Aaron and I would sit and watch families eating. We called the kids "mishima babies" and would make promises to each other about our future child learning to joyfully eat Japanese. Nico loves it at Mishima! Recently he enjoyed some soba, steamed chicken and rice, inari, crab, and roe. Stubborn as always, he demanded to eat only with chopsticks. When in Rome, I suppose.
Turns out that if you dream it enough, you can make it come true. We got our Mishima baby!