There’s nothing for sale inside the machine, but Okinawan spirits and delicious deserts are waiting on the other side.
Recently, we were walking down the street in the city of Ishigaki in Okinawa Prefecture when a beer vending machine caught our eye. Though Japan still has vending machines that sell alcoholic beverages, they’re not nearly as commonplace as they used to be, and this one’s lineup looked particularly tempting, with a number of unique offerings including locally brewed Ishigakijima Beer.
Seeing bottled beer in a vending machine is especially rare, and so we decided to treat ourselves to a drink. Oddly enough, there were no prices listed for any of the drinks, but Japanese vending machine buttons tend to light up once you’ve put in enough coins to make the corresponding purchase, so we took out a handful…
…only to find that the coin slot had been covered with tape bearing the handwritten notice “I am broken.”
OK, well the drinks couldn’t cost more than 1,000 yen (US$6.50), we figured, so next we pulled out a bill of that denomination to slide into the machine. However, the slot’s motors didn’t spring into action as we inserted the paper, so it seemed like the entire machine was broken, not just the coin slot.
Oh well, can’t be helped, we told ourselves as we shrugged our shoulders and went on our way. However, when we doubled back later that night along the same street, we saw that the vending machine’s front panel had been opened up, so maybe it was in the process of getting repaired and we could get a drink here after all!
It turned out we were half right. The vending machine was as inoperable as it had been in the afternoon, in that we still couldn’t buy any drinks from it. However, it had actually been serving a different purpose all along, since the machine’s housing is the hidden entrance to a cafe/bar!
Stepping on through we found ourselves in a cozy and stylish interior with a counter surrounded by a faux brick motif. Standing behind that counter was the owner of this playfully camouflaged establishment.
The place is called Amato Danshi, which means “Boy with a Sweet Tooth.” You’d never know that from looking at the joint from the outside, though, since the sign above the concealed door just has the vaguely inspirational message “It’s a beautiful day to start.”
There are only seven seats in Amato Danshi, creating the atmosphere of a secret hidden fort you’ve found your way inside of. That’s very much intentional, as the owner loved building treehouses as a kid, and later worked at a French restaurant in Tokyo that had its own second-floor lounge accessed through a hidden entrance.
Drinks start at 1,100 yen, and there are plenty of locally made spirits available. The Amato Danshi name isn’t just for show, either, as the cafe also offers a selection of desserts made by the owner himself. On the night we visited, the choices were basque cheesecake, tiramisu, and gateau chocolate cake, for 900 yen each. Even the plate of snacks we were given as part of the 500-yen cover charge had things to please our sweet tooth, with Godiva chocolates and matcha yokan (sweet bean gelatin) accompanying the nuts and strawberry.
