You can have a fantastic meal at Dancerobot—once you learn what to ignore. The vegetable selections, for instance, are an expensive diversion. Resist the urge to order the Ellio’s-adjacent pizza toast and the french onion soup à la Japonaise just because they flirt with you from the page. Those are decoys. The real reason to come here is a lineup of Japanese comfort food unlike anything else in the city. Dancerobot bills itself as an ’80s-style izakaya. Beyond the neon-lit, anime-plastered entryway, it resembles a moody tavern more than a Tokyo time capsule. If you’ve eaten at Royal Sushi & Izakaya, it will feel familair—this is the same team, bringing their sultry-but-cozy style to Rittenhouse (a neighborhood that could desperately use more of that swagger). The sake list is extensive, and the affable servers seem excited to find you the perfect ginjo for that surprisingly complex mentaiko cream pasta. And, as with its South Philly sibling, the bar is every bit as appealing as the dining room. Snag a walk-in seat and a Green Negroni Sour, and without realizing it, two hours will have flown by. If you’re not just here for the ambience, you want one of the four-tops near the open kitchen. That’s where you can turn the table into a small-scale festival of indulgent dishes that make the sashimi everyone shows up expecting an afterthought. Sure, the kanpachi with punchy garlic and pickled chili is great, but it lands even better next to the kare pan: a semi-sweet, crunchy doughnut stuffed with spicy braised beef. The velvety jidori omelette hides melty Cooper Sharp and a burst of marinated roe. The katsu in its rich, spicy curry is crispy near-perfection, though the superior cutlet is the enormous menchi katsu sando, stacked with cabbage, pickles, and a tangy Japanese tartar sauce. The dinner menu is so long it needs a sherpa—consider this your guide. The dishes you’ve never heard of (and can’t get anywhere else in town) are the ones worth ordering. Some items feel perfunctory: Miso-marinated salmon, hamburg steak, and wagyu roast beef have been boring for decades, and don’t suddenly get exciting here. Dancerobot is at its best when it embraces its own charisma instead of playing the not-so-greatest hits from the comfort-food genre. You’ll never have a bad meal here, and it suits nearly any occasion. It’s dark enough for a sultry date night, loud enough for a lively group, and casual enough to drop in on a Tuesday. In a neighborhood full of restaurants that feel designed for tourists—or by them—Dancerobot is authentically Philly in its coolest incarnation. But choose wisely: The difference between a great night and a forgettable one is knowing what to order.