Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Ooooo, Spicy Digital Banner Roll

Radiation emanating from the busted Fukushima Power Plant notwithstanding, I love fresh fish caught in the deep waters of the Pacific.

Salmon, tuna, yellowtail, squid, I'll devour it all.

I love fish so much I won't even wait for it to be cooked. I'll eat it raw like some hairy, barrel-chested grizzly waking up from 4 months of hibernation. By the way, my wife concurs with that description.

It's safe to say we have visited all the sushi restaurants on the west side of Los Angeles.

From the elegant and expensive slivers of fish at K-Zo to the down and dirty casual fare at Yokohama. There was a time we'd take our daughters to West Little Tokyo off Sawtelle Blvd. But now the area has been overrun by Japanese hipsters and their laughable beards. And the oddly dressed harajuku girls.

The eye candy is fun but Japanese kids love to smoke cigarettes. And the stench of burnt tobacco does not complement the fresh, healthy aura of raw fish.

So last week we did something different. We boarded the train at the Expo station. That's not the different thing. We've actually been riding the line since the day it opened. We love being able to go from our home in Culver City to the heart of downtown Los Angeles, which is now experiencing a rebirth with restaurants, museums and a host of new metro stations that reek of urine.

Our destination last week was Kula in Little Tokyo.

Or as some of the locals call it Japangeles.

What sets Kula apart form other sushi restaurants is their conveyor belt. You see they don't employ waitresses, OK they have servers that bring out the drinks, but the food comes rolling by on a conveyor belt in a non-stop wave of delicious and eclectic selections.

Something like this:

Each plate that you remove from the belt cost two bucks. And I'm assuming the stacking of empty plates is meant to discourage over-indulgence. Although it had no such effect at the Siegel booth, where we piled high 22 empty plates.

Should you go to Kula, I'd recommend the velvet smooth Salmon Belly and the equally tasty Blue Fin Toro.

As we left the restaurant, I couldn't help wondering if this unique delivery system could be adapted to the advertising world.

Instead of mountainous decks of storyboards, banner ads and rich media engagement units, perhaps we could simply put each separate idea on a little plate and roll them by the clients on a conveyor belt specifically built for the conference room.

Then, instead of trying ram an idea down their throats….er, I mean selling them a concept, they would be free to pick and choose whatever suited their fancy. After all, clients are fond of Frankensteining ideas, this could be a way of making them pay for the privilege.