And it is not simply because my kimono is at the cleaners.
Japanese restaurant Nobu Beijing opens in the JW Marriott tonight. But I won’t be there. Why? Because I didn’t get an invitation.
Nobu, how could you!?
As far as I know, way back in September 2009 I was the first person in Beijing to write that you would open in our fair city. When the expected opening date of early 2010 passed, I continued to contact your people, even though they were not exactly fountains of information, to update readers of this blog. I’m friends with your chef on Facebook.
I even changed the name of my goldfish from Nemo to Nobu.
Yes, I criticized your website as I could not understand the inability of your staff to find a single native English speaker to proofread the single paragraph of English on it. And I did include you as part of my April Fool’s Day post, though it was all in good fun.
But I thought we had a relationship. I thought we had… something.
(Then again, this blog is probably not of much relevance to you, I am not exactly a food critic, I am not a fan of all the double cheek kissing at these events, and I am somewhat scared to visit given that a trip there caused The Beijinger’s Iain Shaw to write “It’s tempting to imagine executive chef Oyvind Naesheim as a dramatist, creating dishes as characters, giving them room to develop as the larger plot unfolds around them”. So perhaps it all works out in the end. But, seriously, could you please proofread your web site?)