Golden Gai, Cabo San Lucas

One of my favorite discoveries in Tokyo was the neighborhood called Golden Gai. Golden Gai is a series of small, narrow alleyways with many storefronts housed in close quarters, completely deserted and locked down during the day. It resides in the neighborhood of Shinjuku, known for housing the Tokyo Metropolitan Government. Each of these doors houses an impossibly small drinking establishment.



At nightime the doors are unlocked and in some cases left open. Lights are turned on inside by a mysterious bartender, and in some cases music begins to play. In almost no cases is there a welcome sign over the door. And in almost no case is a new client, stranger or tourist invited in. Strangers and tourists, anyone who is not accompanied by a regular, is turned away with a bark, "Closed!", or a grunted, "Japanese only!"

What is amazing and special about these bars is not just how they offer their clients a tightly knit drinking community. These bars are tiny. Most no bigger than the kitchen in a 1000 sq ft house. And I saw several much smaller. Each bar has about 6 seats, some have less, some have more, and there are seats available nowhere except at the bar itself. The person behind the bar is usually the owner, and coming into his/her bar is like being invited into their living room for cocktail hour. The same room is owned and passed down and never or rarely sold to an outsider. In all the bars I peeked into, money, movie posters, photographs and various memorabilia covered every inch of wall space.





I did find one propieter who welcomed us into his bar, and we drank together, chatted in his wonderful English, and listened to his jaw-dropping collection of flamenco vinyl from as far back as the 1940's. His room was decorated with the signatures of famous flamenco players throughout the last few decades, and dried single stem roses punctuated the autographs in dark little nooks and cubbyholes.

Wandering the Golden Gai, I knocked on doors and was turned away many times before finding a happy stool for my bum. That made the experience all the more special.

Imagine my delight when, in Cabo San Lucas last weekend, I discovered just such a bar right next door to the ridiculously celebratory Giggling Marlin. This particular itty bitty teeny tiny bar is called Sangria. While Sangria shares many similarities with the bars of the Golden Gai, there are also stark contrasts.



Sangria is petite, it has only 6 bar stools. It serves alcohol, it plays music and it attracts many regular customers. Currency of all provenances are stuck to the walls and ceilings.



However, the door is wide open starting in late afternoon, and by open I mean open to anyone. Tourists and locals together crowd the tiny bar, and the sparse seating makes for close quarters and lively conversation. By 11 pm the outside part of the bar was four people deep, and everyone was having a great time. The bartendress handled everyone equally with an attitude of welcoming joy and efficiency. I visited this bar all three nights of my stay and have some great memories.

Lorenzillo's: Cancun & Los Cabos Since 1683

While traveling from el aeropuerto to our hotel, no less than three unrelated people suggested Lorenzillo's in the marina for the city's best lobster. I tend to be rather wary of the reccomendations of people working in the tourist industry when I am abroad. I have been sent to one too many tourist traps, and had one too many meals surrounded solely by English speaking Americans. (Truly, once in Paris was more than enough, but it has happened far more than one time.) My tendency now is to seek out references for my meals via acquaintances and cross-referencing internet resources.

Upon attempting to check into our hotel, we were told our room would not be ready til early evening. So, we borrowed the hospitality suite, changed into beach garb and set out to explore cabo San Lucas. Disembarking from a water taxi in the marina, Lorenzillo's loomed large above us. I am a firm disbeliever in fate and the, "things happen for a reason" approach to life. However, D was grumbling about hunger and I wanted some wine. We climbed the stairs to the nearly empty main dining room and sat down to a lobster feast extraordinaire.

The waiter first brought our examples of the beautiful fresh shellfish they had to offer. Giant prawns, king crab, langostino, and so on.







I started my meal with oysters on the half shell, and was more than happy to accompany them with a slightly overpriced yet always delicious yellow label Veuve Clicquot. D started his meal with a massive platter of stone crab, fresh and thoughtfully pre-cracked for easy shelling.




For mains, we both went for the lobster, natch. His was served in a light marinara with pasta. Mine was covered but not smothered in a lovely savory cilantro sauce that made my tastebuds hum blissfully. Both lobsters were steamed perfectly, not a tough bite between the two.




Although the lobster was perfection, the star on my plate was Lorenzillo's pureed spinach. I ate every bite & I might even have snuck a bite or two from someone else's plate when they weren't looking. This version of pureed spinach has a thick consistency, almost like mashed potatoes. But the flavor! This is not your runny, American steakhouse creamed spinach. Our waiter reported that the spinach includes bacon, a touch of cream and nuts. For just a second I feared I might be eating what amounts to a pile of lard with some spinach for coloring. But he assured us there was only a little bacon for flavor. And truly, I didn't give a pig's ass what was in it.



The rest of the day and into the long night I thought about that spinach. The next morning I wanted it for breakfast. In true D&L form, we went to Lorenzillo's for lunch again that day.



This time we ate a little lighter, both in calories and in wallet. I ordered a big side of the spinach and a lovely little tuna tartare. They say the tuna you eat in Cabo really is caught right off shore that day or the day previous. As a tourist on holiday, I would buy the Brooklyn Bridge if you asked nicely enough. But I do know they go fishing for tuna in those waters, and my tartare was fresh and beautiful enought to give into a plausible story.



D ordered a wonderful ceviche, just acidic enough with lots and lots of octopus.
He also tucked into a nice seafood soup, but I was too busy with my spinach to get a photo. This, however, was a view off outside dining area of Lorenzillo's, through the marina and into the sea beyond!