Being a vegetarian and house frau, I neither sushi nor samba, but we made the effort last night for our pal’s birthday and had dinner at the acclaimed Sushi Samba restaurant on Wells street. This Brazilian, Peruvian and Japanese fusion place is gorgeous. An open, circular layout lit from all angles in primary colors makes for a feast on the eyes. The unisex hand washing area and clear glass bathroom doors are a little weird, but whatever. I wore my good panties.
The menu is basically useless, though. Priced between $5 and $40 and served tapas style, the server urged us to quit reading it and succumb to the hands of the chef – that is to say instead of ordering, we guide him with our appetite. Great. No meat for me, no fish for my friend and the men will take whatever you got.
I’ve been to Sushi Samba a few times before. Granted, I was a single girl and completely uninterested in the price of dinner, but you have to trust me I really had no idea what this would cost us last night. The bill came and there was an item charged to us that was $88, which after the mandatory gratuity became $106 for what was exactly four bites of beef served on a rock (“Ishi Yaki,” run from it). And the other table in our party? They were served two of them. Happy birthday.
I myself drank zero alcohol (I’ll get to that later) and swallowed ten bites of vegetables wrapped in rice. The total cost for the meal after we split the check with another couple? $175. Add that to $17 valet (including tip), a round of drinks for $25 and $40 to pay my babysitter and the grand total for my evening was $257.
Jenna Karvunidis (KAR-vuh-NEED-us)
is a feminist mom of a whole brood of lady babies. Also, she hates water pollution. Like, really hates it.