'Akiro Maru did not look like a chef, far less a man of thirty. Thin, pale, and possessing a boy's face, everyone mistook him to be no more than sixteen. Everyone mistook him in other ways as well.' So begins this droll comedy of lust, deception, adultery, and an Ambassador's obsessive desire for superb Japanese cuisine. It may leave you wondering just how high, really, is the cost for a pot of hot green tea and fresh conch sushi. Heartburn, or . . . ? The answer will astonish you.