I walked in expecting another quick strip mall meal and instead felt like I had wandered straight into a scene from Spirited Away. One step through the door and East Tulsa disappeared.
The shift was instant, like crossing some invisible line where normal rules no longer applied and dinner came with a little bit of magic built in. The space is small and intimate in a way that makes you lean in and slow down.
Warm light pools across simple Japanese decor, steam curls up from the open kitchen, and everything feels quietly alive. Watching the broth simmer feels almost ceremonial, like something pulled from an old recipe book instead of a modern restaurant…