Thursday night I went to dinner with my pal Little Ricky and his girlfriend. The dinner was a payback from Mrs. A and myself for some very nice granite tile work Ricky did for us in our kitchen at home. He always refuses money for stuff he does for friends and so we got him a gift certificate from the boat store and offered to take him out for a meal.

Ricky is not the tallest guy around, hence my nickname for him, but his personality is larger than life. Always smiling and quick with the teasing, he has tons of friends and we are glad he counts us among them. Because Ricky likes things lively, he picked the Tokyo Japanese Steakhouse for dinner. Mrs. Anthony and I had never eaten there, somehow overlooking the obvious blaring, red and white-striped sign right next to 320th and the Highway, so we didn't know what to expect.

We arrived to a packed parking lot and before the rest of us were even out of the car, Ricky was laughing and shaking hands with an Asian gentleman there near the front door. I learned later that this was the manager of the restaurant and that Rick was a regular.

Inside we saw a group of about eight people ahead us and the manager ushered us right past them and directly to an eating bar around a big, square grill. It pays to know people, apparently. We were seated around the grill and a waitress in a beautiful kimono took our food and drink orders. In a few moments, a Chef arrived pushing a little cart filled with meat and vegetables. He whipped out an impressive looking knife and began to flip it around and clack it down on the griddle, swiftly picking up an onion, practically slicing it in the air. Then he stacked the rings up and poured some flammable substance inside them, lit them on fire and said, 'VOLCANO!' He did a number of neat tricks with his cooking tools and I wondered who came up with this idea of combining food with juggling.

Later that night after we got home, I did a little research on the concept of_ this sort of 'eatertainment.'

I learned that the basic term for open grill cooking is "teppan-yaki" style (Teppan meaning "steel grill" and yaki meaning "broiled"). The originator of teppanyaki-style cooking is the Misono restaurant chain in Japan; they introduced teppanyaki in 1945. In this country, teppanyaki was made famous by the Benihana restaurant chain. In traditional teppanyaki, a chef does all the food preparation directly in front of the diners, being sure to time each meal so he can serve them onto the guests plates simultaneously. Benihana's apparently began the tradition of combining the cooking tricks and they are done with speed and amazing dexterity as a showcase of the chef's skills.

Teppanyaki is supposed to be eaten leisurely. The chef only works on one course at a time. The soup is served first, followed by salad, and then the main course, followed by vegetables, sometimes fruit and finally, dessert. Main courses usually consist of beef or chicken or fish, usually salmon. Stir-fried bean sprouts are almost always served. Other popular teppanyaki options include prawns, squid, scallops, clams, oysters, eel, lobster, and abalone. Kobe Japanese beef is said to come from cows pampered with apples and beer and mellowed with music and massage. (Cows? I don't have it this good!) and it usually is cooked last, and separate from the vegetables (obstensibly to appease vegetarians).

During the preparation, Ricky asked the chef to flip a cube of freshly cooked chicken at me to see if I could catch it in my mouth. I had a vision of it sticking right in the middle of my forehead and, of course, that's exactly what happened. Three times. The chef finally gave up on me and pitched one at Ricky, who caught it easily. I claimed that the target was just a lot bigger. I think one of the neatest things about this type of meal is the opportunity to meet other people. Since the table that you sit around can handle about eight diners, it's common to be seated with people you don't know. A fellow with the same name as mine sat to my left with his wife, who turned out to be another Tokyo Steakhouse regular. Lydia told us that she and her husband come there for every birthday and special occasion, and that this was her birthday today. Ricky overheard this and I saw him flag down the girl in the kimono. A few minutes later, the owner showed up pounding a big drum along with a couple of other chefs and they clapped and sang a japanese birthday greeting that sounded like, 'He, He, He, Ho, Ho, shia washa naa ttaa katana, something or other, HA!' Everyone clapped and hooted and the birthday girl blushed. I think I know where I'm going for dinner when my birthday arrives, but don't tell Ricky; I blush easy.