On any given street in the west end of Shanghai, you'll find a restaurant that does only dumplings, another that specializes in ramen, still another will grill things you can only fit on a toothpick. Ibashou's niche is eel, so much so that they keep them on hand. Live. Crammed in the middle of the dining room like an afterthought is a massive tank teeming with them. They nimbly wiggle around each other, writhing back from one pane of glass to the other. If you dine on the first floor, your experience will occasionally be punctuated by splashes. Those are the more ambitious eels making failed escape attempts. Sooner or later, though, they all meet the same fate, your belly, and they arrive in so many different and tasty ways. If one were to read the menu aloud, he'd sound like the eel equivalent of that half-wit shrimp boat captain in Forrest Gump. And almost no part goes unused, so let's start from the inside of the and work our way out... These are the spines. A thorough dunk in the deep fryer gives them a crispy, crunchy texture. They're brittle enough that they'll shatter into a million pieces between your teeth, so don't worry about bones in your throat. A generous sprinkling of salt makes them an excellent accompaniment with their 20-kuai half liters of Asahi draft. If you're given to squeamishness, just close your eyes and visualize potato chips in your mind's eye. Onward and outward, we find this.... Eel livers, dried first, then roasted. They come to the table glazed in that distinctly Japanese sauce of soy thickened with sugar, mirin, and sake -- it really does go well with everything. If you're unaccustomed to fish offal, the liver is a great place to start. It lacks the irresistibly custardy texture of its avian counterpart, foie gras. But, I don't see them force feeding these eels with tubes either. Still, it is by far the most palatable organ -- tender and mild with those characteristic undertones of iron. What's more, I'm sure it comes with some Japanese motherly wisdom about it being really good for you. So order it, or you'll be sent to bed without dessert. Then there is this... This cut should be a little more familiar to you, the fillet. You've likely had swatch of it packed onto a lump of rice in the form of nigiri, or atop a donburi bowl. And, yes, they do both here. But, with scarcely a meter and a half in which to swim back and forth, these eels are preternaturally rich and fatty. That sweet soy glaze turns into a caramel crust around the edges and the skin turns taut and crispy. So, forget about the rice; it's a distraction. A little tip: heed the menu's odd English verbiage and order it with "added flavor." I'm presuming that means "with sauce." Finally, be sure to order this... Tamago, or Japan's answer to the omelet. A mix of scrambled eggs, mirin, and sake, is fried in a square copper pan and folded upon itself like the steel in a samurai sword. Ibashou, of course, fortifies it with some roasted eel. You'll probably need a few palate cleansers throughout your meal like this... This is a mound of a mild-flavored sea vegetable known in Japan as hijiki. It's been tossed with chunks of tuna and steamed soybeans. Just go easy on this one, though. Apparently, it comes with some health risks. If you're at all worried, this is probably a safer option... Octopus and pickled cucumbers in a spicy Korean-style chili sauce. Pretty tasty. Of course, you'll also find a fair selection of standard izakaya eats like tempura, sashimi, and several iterations of tofu as well. But I didn't trek out to Hongmei Lu just to try tempura. *** Ibashou has two branches. The one on Guyang Lu is right at the intersection and should be easy to find. The Hongmei location, however, is tucked well away from the street. To find it, walk to the south side of the Hongqiao Pearl Market (that's the left side, if you're facing the entrance), and follow that alleyway all the way to number 26.