Dear Little Dumplings

We have a restaurant in our nabe that I haven't been to in years; JP's never been at all. Until tonight, that is. Hamano has been around since my wilder days (I still miss that thrashed black motorcycle jacket). It's quiet, unassuming. And if you need some Japanese food on a rainy night, well, step inside.
Our appetizer was listed as Edamame Dumpling (steamed). What arrived was a plate circled with six tiny, adorable green dumplings, each drizzled with a sweetish sauce...Inside, edamame paste and chunky bits of bean. Precious, yes, but addictive as hell.
My salmon teriyaki came in a red bento box. Two large pink pieces, glazed and sesame'd. Below, a perfect ball of rice with bits of red pickled radish for crunch; thin shards of gobo root; salad greens (I skipped the mayonnaisey dressing; 'nuff said). And in its own little corner, an odd square of dessert that resembled gelled cranberry sauce but tasted of bean paste and ginger.
JP liked, didn't love, his sushi. I suggest trying the other dishes on the menu. Black cod? Next time, Grasshopper.