No guilt, indeed. Well, almost. You see, Todai boasts nothing less than a veritable cornucopia of edible tidbits from a certain island cluster off the Asian coast in the Pacific, and more poignantly, they let you eat as much as your gullet will accommodate.
But you can't eat that much, and therein lies the guilt. The immediate temptation is to race over to the sushi bar and gather up armfuls of these little morsels, zipping back to your table and slamming them down just as fast as you can make your chopsticks fly.
One better, we resolved to simply park ourselves in front of the bar and dispose altogether of the obligatory trip back to our table, not to mention any extraneous go-between flatware. In the course of about 30 seconds, our two-fisted chopstick frenzy pumped a couple pounds of raw tuna alone from the bar to our bellies. Of course, this somewhat cavalier technique was frowned upon by the omnipresent guardian of the sushi. Nonetheless, we must commend him for the breakneck speed with which he defended the sushi bar from the voracious barrage of our buzzing chopsticks.
In retrospect, perhaps the thought of all-we-could-eat sushi just drove us a bit batty. But as this mania subsided, the fleeting madness was quickly replaced by a pronounced pang of guilt. Carved in our minds is the indelible notion that sushi is expensive, that you can't just take another piece without being prepared to shell out another two or three bucks for it. At Todai, however, one's economic sensibility to this fact must be somehow quelled in order to fully exploit this peculiar fiscal paradigm.
For those more comfortable with food items lower down on the evolutionary scale than this universally sublime pinnacle of world cuisine, Todai offers a wide array of inferior stuffs such as fried noodles, soups, and broiled seafood. We think, however, that the presence of such items is merely a ploy to distract patrons from the true objects of their desire. We scoffed as the waiter presumptuously offered us water, seeing through his thinly veiled attempt to fill our stomachs with things not sushi. We were determined to fill ourselves with nothing but the best, and to that end we duly abstained from said lesser items.
Despite its plenitude, which would usually imply inferior quality, the sushi itself was aesthetically pleasing, sent our palettes on a whirling merry-go-round, and came in an unexpectedly wide variety, including special rolls and sashimi.
To be sure, we did partake of some non-sushi items, and they were pretty good as well. For instance, the barbecued octopus, as well as the beef-dipped asparagus, was quite pleasing. To boot, the bar was replete with a self-serve ice-cream dispenser, whose handle we pulled with all the beguiled hopes of so many one-armed Vegas gamesters.
After all, what is sushi? Chopped ham? No, it's raw fish. And what goes better on raw fish than a little chocolate ice cream? Such was the line of reasoning which prompted us to conclude our meal with this otherwise objectionable smorgasborgastrocity.
By the end of the meal, the only things left empty were our now- vacuous wallets. Indeed, our euphoric frolic with full gastronomic liberty was not without monetary sacrifice. At $16.95 each, plus tax and tip, this was a dinner not soon to be forgotten, neither by tongue nor by billfold. Perhaps it would have been more financially sound to take advantage of their lunch special, which includes, as we are told, the full complements of the bar for only $8.95.
Endless rows of sushi await you at 1428 S. Asuza Ave., West Covina. Take the 10 east, past the 57/210 interchange into West Covina. Exit at Asuza, turn left, and hunt for an innocuous, you guessed it, mini- mall about a mile south and on the left. If, for some strange reason, you wanted to call them, you might be well advised to try (818) 919- 4858.