Around seven a discreet tap on the door announced the arrival of the first installment of dinner, which was duly laid out on the table and replenished twice as we moved through an almost staggering array of dishes and bits and pieces.
At this point I should take a moment to consider the Hughsoid reaction to Japanese cuisine. I am, and I'm the first to admit it, not a big fan, largely because a lot of the flavours fall outside the parameters my palate is accustomed to, but that's just the first factor.
A second, and it's a very significant second, lies in the fact that my palate, as anyone who's sampled my preferred options in the chilli and curry departments would be all to aware, doesn't do subtle. Strong on chilli, heavy on the garlic with plenty of concentrated flavours is where my palate works best, and that's hardly the flavour profile you get with Japanese cuisine.
When you're looking at something like this, however, the variety and contrast of flavours and textures works a whole lot better than an isolated serve of sashimi or sushi does.
In other words, although I don't do (as in not enamoured of, would prefer not to sample and will go out of my way to avoid a serve of) sushi or sashimi, serve it up in this context and I'll have a go at it.
That's not to suggest, on the other hand, that I liked, or managed to finish everything on offer on this particular occasion. There were a couple of things I tried but couldn't stomach, and the cumulative quantity served up would have defeated anyone who wasn't an extremely dedicated trenchermen.
And, unsurprisingly, having dined extremely well it wasn't long before Hughesy was doing the old carpet snake who's just swallowed a wallaby and slunk off to sleep it out routine.