“Teppanyaki” must be Japanese for “overpriced fried in margarine” or maybe “demeaning grease splatter.” The show and food are not worth the price, and Shogun is surely a place P.T. Barnum would’ve been proud to own.
To start, those jokes about pouring Pepsi or Coke on the food were never funny. And I’m really tired of having to power-wash my glasses after they get coated with grease. And while the five-year-old in me still likes seeing columns of flame shooting out of onions, even that becomes tiresome by the third time you see it that night.
The soup course at Shogun is a clear, nearly tasteless broth with a slice of mushroom, maybe two slices if you’re lucky, and a noodle or two (depending upon your luck). The salad is a classic Iceberg salad, likely served straight from a Pegler-Sysco bag, with a dressing that I could do without. And because of the teppanyaki show, you get your rice, vegetables, and meat all at different times, meaning by they time you get your meat, everything else is cold.
I understand the show is part of the price, but the show never changes. It’s like paying extra to see reruns of “The Brady Bunch.”
And what happens to all the shrimp that litters the floor?