Date of Last Visit: Sunday, August 9th, 2009
The Victim: Me
The Damage: 150 NOK
The Background: I had this plan. I had done my research ahead of time and I was going to have dinner at Oslo’s most popular sushi joint.
But I had neglected to check the hours. Alex Sushi is closed on Sundays. I went to the hotel concierge. He looked about 18. Maybe 17 even. He handed me some brochures after informing me (surprise!) that he doesn’t eat out in Oslo much. (No one, I’ve learned, eats out in Oslo much. It’s too expensive.)
This called for Plan B.
I asked him to find me the closest sushi joint. I’m sorry. I just had this sushi craving. In Oslo. And I needed to sort it out.
So he finds me Happy Sushi, which is just around the corner from my hotel so all-in-all, it sounds fine.
The Entrance: Happy Sushi looks like a shit hole, and it sorta is. Maybe I’m being overly harsh. But it’s more a take-out place than anything else, and I was in the mood to linger over dinner. Plus, the people that work at Happy Sushi? They are NOT happy. The woman behind the counter has to be the farthest thing from happy that you can ever imagine.
I’m given an awkward table in the middle of the room. A table for 6. (8 really, if you could the ends.) I am just one person. And I’m surrounded by other tables with people at them. I am a good solo diner, but I sorta feel like I’m on show here.
The Sushi: Surprisingly fresh. Well, maybe not surprising. This is Oslo after all. Really, it’s super super fresh and soft and buttery. I don’t want to like (Un)Happy Sushi, but I do like their nigri.
Happy Sushi Verdict
The price was right and the food was good. But I wasn’t too pleased with the attitude of the woman behind the counter or her little helper. Oh, or the flat-screen TV on the wall that showed a fake fishtank. Yes. Here it is.