Senbei for me, beer for you, shochu for both of us

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there lived a girl and a boy who were on a quest, a quest in pursuit of deliciousness, relaxation and good times. However, living in pursuit of deliciousness takes its toll.  Having barely lived through the previous night's challenge (a kaiseki dinner at Okunoyu), they decided to expend some calories by venturing to the nearby town of Kurokawa, and not eat too much for lunch.

Many perils awaited. "Beware the set lunch," hissed a neighborhood cat. "They look manageable, but looks can be deceiving." So the pair went, bravely resisting the multitudinous delicacies that beckoned temptingly from the doorways. Just when they thought they would succumb to some katsu kare udon, the girl spotted a tofu restaurant. "The concierge said they have light food, this will be perfect!"

Inside were low tables inset with charcoal burners for large donabe pots made of clay.  "These set lunches look terrific!" said the boy. The girl grimaced in response. "Tanuki-san said it would be all right," said the boy. "How could anything bad happen at such a great-looking restaurant? Besides, tofu has hardly any calories."

"Everyone knows not to trust tanuki -- they're the modern gods of gluttony, booze, and indolence," she said.
"But that's what we like!" said the boy.
"Good point." And so they ordered the smallest set lunch.

"Ahh, that was great," the boy said. The girl had to agree -- between the dengaku, inari, iri tofu, yudofu, and the wobbly, barely-set kind, she was really getting to know her friend, tofu.

Spirit broken, she said, "Let's get some senbei from the senbei guy. We can get some shochu and some beer for you as well, since I'm feeling generous." Later that evening, they discovered they were both wrong. You can't trust a tanuki, but they met the second kaiseki challenge without entirely losing face.

Farewell, Kyushu.