Profile

Those who know to take the gated stairs to the narrow bar above Riki restaurant will get buzzed into a ubiquitous Tokyo scene that’s rather rare in New York: teams of Japanese salarymen slumped over bowls of wasabi trail mix and watching satellite feeds of chirpy variety shows while black-aproned hostesses pour pitchers of Sapporo and slap down plates of sea-urchin gratin, fermented salty squid, and skewers of grilled foie gras. You might not guess it if you show up after midnight, but the thing to do here is to pay for a private karaoke room (backup-singing hostess included; rates vary, but start at $8/person). There you’ll find tambourines, canastas, and a 1,400-page book of songs by foreign bands like Bump of Chicken, alongside a smattering of American acts like Pantera and Hootie and the Blowfish. Though you may get a quizzical “Have you been here before?” upon entering, by the time you exit, you’ll be dreaming of storing your $50 bottle of Iichiko Shochu behind the bar for your next visit. — Daniel Maurer