ALCOHOL
Hane: Softening My Tempura Heart

Last night, a friend and I were walking down 1st Avenue, being chased after by that nagging, intangible hunger that so often frequents the body when the city devilishly fishpoles its many inviting aromas out into the air. We weren't sure of what we were craving, but coming off a full day of midterms, we knew it had to be something good, something impressive and something soon. It wasn't until we happened upon an impressive Japanese marble palace taking up the corner of 20th and 1st that we realized our cravings could only be satisfied by two little S-letter lovelies: sushi and sake.