‘Ooh, you know what Dylan would love,” our nextdoor neighbour once announced to my mum over the garden fence. “This great new restaurant. Just opened down Exeter way. Japanese it is. Called Wagamama.”
I’ve been entranced by Japanese culture ever since I was a tween living in Devon, when this blockbuster restaurant franchise scandalised the south-west’s restaurant scene. A trip to Topman followed by a Waga’s chicken katsu quickly became the pastime of Exeter’s metropolitan elite.
