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Irasshai!

Ted and I played tour guide to six of my relatives from Japan this weekend. They arrived in San Francisco half an hour early; Mom (the bilingual one in our group) arrived 5 hours later. We were able to get everyone and their luggage piled into our two rental cars and checked in at the hotel without problem, but since Mom’s arrival had gotten bumped we needed to feed everyone. And considering how little Japanese I speak, it was an adventure.

We dined at Max’s, a local restaurant in Burlingame the hotel’s front desk staff recommended. Ted and I sampled their fare the night before and were impressed by the food, so we returned with the group the next day. When we arrived, we asked the wait staff if anyone knew Japanese, but no dice. Still, our waitress was a trooper and we managed to get an order together. Most had pasta with shrimp (except for my cousin, who ordered a pulled pork sandwich) and everyone seemed to enjoy. They all remarked at how enormous the portions were, to which our waitress said “Yeah, Americans are fat.”

Heh.

Lunch at Max’s