Food

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Tsukiji, say what?

One of the best things I’ve done in Tokyo thus far is visit the Tsukiji fish market.   Officially called the Tokyo Metropolitan Central Wholesale Market, Tsukiji (pronounced “skee-gee”) is where 2,000 tons of seafood come into Japan every day.  Did you get that?  Every day!  With the auctions beginning at 5:00 am, I dragged my feet a bit in getting around to visit here — I thought, if this place requires me getting up so dang early, it better be worth it.  Since I had a friend visiting who was up at the crack of dawn with a bit of jet-lag, it seemed as good a time as any.  With iced coffee and onigiri in hand, we set off soon after the subway started running.

A gigantic warehouse complex packed full of tiny stalls where wholesale vendors peddle their goods, the market is not for the faint of heart.  We picked our way through the skinny walkways, trying to avoid the remains of who-knows-what at our feet.  The place was busy and packed so full of people doing their daily business that it felt like a place we really shouldn’t be.  But one of the great things about visiting Tsukiji is that you get to see the real deal.  No one asked us to leave, and a few men in rubber boots even nodded or smiled at us as we passed.  Fish flop at every corner, or are gutted and sitting on styrofoam platters.  Every sort of sea creature is for sale, some still alive, all packed on ice or in huge plastic tubs.  One live shrimp jumped out of its bucket as we walked by, and at one point I’m pretty sure I was fish-slapped by a stray in a passing tank.  Water mixed with fish guts sloshed around the floor.

The market was almost chaotic, but perfectly orchestrated.  By far the loudest place I’ve found in Tokyo, people shout and little three-wheeled motorized carts speed by (seriously, they are fast), but everyone is respectful and no one crashes and everything moves together in unison.  It was really amazing and beautiful to watch, despite the glassy eyeballs staring up at me from the styrofoam.

Then we found the tuna.  Tuna is a big deal in Japan, and once I saw them at Tsukiji I understood why.  I was mesmerized by them.  They are as big as me and flash frozen, so the giant fish literally look like ghosts.  They’re stacked on palettes, driven around by carts, sent through table saws, and hacked up for sale.  Their insides have a deep red color unlike any other fish in the market (they’re warm blooded!), and create a dramatic contrast to the other fish in mostly whites and grays.  A slab of tuna looks like a juicy t-bone steak, and could cost you $50 or more.  I watched the bright white and red tuna parts being carted around the market and was incredibly moved.  I actually felt haunted by them.

After learning that bluefin tuna is seriously endangered, Dan and I have tried to stop eating it, a difficult undertaking while living in Japan.  I’m still not quite sure what I was feeling at Tsukiji, I suppose simultaneous awe and heartbreak.  It is a very weird feeling, and I remain conflicted.  Tsukiji is an amazing place to experience, but part of what makes it so is exactly the thing it hurts.

In case any readers wander upon this post and want to visit Tsukiji, the closest subway station is Tsukiji-Shijo on the Odeo line, though it seems the Tsukiji stop on the Hibiya line works as well.  If you want to make it in time for the fish auctions at 5 am, you’ll have to take a taxi or walk.

Also, if you’d like more information on the peril of the bluefin tuna, there’s a hefty yet worthwhile article here.

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New Neighborhood = New Food!

We made it into our new apartment!  I’ll provide the full tour later, but I can give you a few tidbits now:

  • We have an automatic flush toilet.  I thought those were just for restaurants and airports, but apparently not.
  • I’m really glad we decided against a queen sized bed (it wouldn’t have fit).
  • “Blank slate” is an understatement.
  • Red bean paste waffles and a shop dedicated to kaleidoscopes are just steps from the front door.

But one of the most exciting things about my day was lunch.  I picked up a quick bento box lunch at the nearby grocery store while I waited for our mattress to be delivered, and it was the most delicious thing!  Maybe it’s just that everything tastes better when you are eating off the floor, but I thought it was worth sharing.  Here is a sneak peek of the apartment with my picnic lunch:

That is right, I also picked all of the other important things — toilet paper, rice crackers and iced coffee.  But back to my bento…

It may not look like much in its little foam container, but it had a surprise in store.  The grocery store had probably 12 different options, and I chose this one because of what I thought was a panko-fried shrimp hiding there in the top right corner.  You can’t go wrong with fried shrimp (except when you can, ahem).  But after I bit into it, I discovered it was actually Japan’s version of the crab cake!

Eastern Shore, eat your heart out.  It also had a little crab claw sticking out, like a dainty little crab cake handle.

Of course I did what any self-respecting girl in my situation should do, I cracked that little claw open and sucked all the delicious crab meat right on out.  My mother-in-law and her Maryland roots would be proud.

Because I know some of you are wondering, I’ve taken my best guess at what else was in my lunch:

And (almost) everything was tasty, particularly the sweet potato and pickle combo.  Who would of thought?!  I have to admit, I skipped the mystery cube and carrot — sorry Japan, not even you can get me to like carrots.

With that, I must unpack (again – this is the 3rd time in 3 months, for those of you who are counting).  Saké Puppets will be offline for a few days until Internet service is up in our new apartment, so in the meantime, send us your comments!  We love to hear from you!

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I’ll Pass on the Cheese, Please

Today I took a walk to find our new apartment.  Yes, that is correct — we signed the lease contract yesterday, and I couldn’t remember where the apartment was, what the neighborhood was like, or even what most of the apartment itself looked like.  My notes from our days of apartment hunting said “Nice closets!” and I guess that was enough to convince me it was a place worth living in.  I have been surprisingly nonchalant about committing to something so big, which is pretty uncharacteristic of my designy personality.  But I guess that is what happens when you see 20+ apartments in 3 days in a massive city, and just need a place to live.

After I found our apartment (and was satisfied with what I found), I wandered over to Hiro-o, the neighborhood next door.  I was surprised to find Hiro-o had an international grocery store near the subway station.  I went in looking to pick up some sushi for dinner, but got annoyed because all they had was Sargento shredded cheese.

I might have to consider this tiny event a major milestone.  Don’t get me wrong, cheese, I miss you, but sushi, you are so much better right now.

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Where Is Pancakes House?

Sometimes a man just needs some pancakes.

We’ve been in Japan for three weeks, which really isn’t long enough to start getting cravings for American food. What have you gone three weeks without eating? Probably a lot of things. Probably most things.

But still, sometimes it’s nice to know that a comfort food is available to you. We’ve had trouble finding breakfast joints. Sure, onigiri is lovely in the morning, but once in a while I need pancakes and eggs.

Japan, being the space- and time-efficient place that it is, up and combined the two:

Okonomiyaki is often prepared on a hot grill at your table. A batter of eggs, flour, cabbage, and every fish and crustacean from the sea, okonomiyaki is basically a catch-all omelet, but sort of like a pancake, except when it’s like pizza. Phew.

Being the daring sorts that we are, we spotted a sign for an okonimiyaki restaurant and wandered up to its third floor location. Please take a moment to congratulate us. So far, unless I can see right into a restaurant from the ground floor, I don’t bother going in. I’m illiterate in the language, so who knows what I’ll get into. Call me a coward, but at least I won’t accidentally walk into an all-you-can-eat raw horse buffet.

But okonomiyaki! It is lovely and full of toppings. A sweetish BBQ sauce, shredded nori, scallions, bonito flakes (which dance around when exposed to heat), and mayonnaise.

I may have been the sort of person who once turned his nose to mayo, but now I’m on board. I guess Japan is giving me some perspective on what’s really important about my country. U-S-A! MAY-O-NNAISE!

With all the toppings and ingredients and foreign language (to me) and train tracks outside the window and the manga convention downstairs and the holy-cow-we’re-really-living-in-another-country-no-fooling, I noticed that okonomiyaki tasted surprisingly…familiar.

Not familiar like, “Oh, I had this at the Stop ‘N Save just the other day,” but rather, all the flavors just seemed to come together like something a boy from central PA is used to.

This, of course, is mayonnaise:

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Tea for Three

We have a friend in town for a visit, which has been a great excuse to check out some of the guidebook sites we haven’t yet seen.

Hama Rikyū Teien is within walking distance of our current apartment, and is a pleasant diversion from Tokyo’s humid June weather.  Now a public garden, the area was owned by a feudal lord during the Edo period (1603 to 1868) and served as duck hunting grounds for the shogunate.  It opened to the public in 1946, and includes a flower field with blooms for every season, a saltwater tidal pond with floating tea house, and a 300-year-old pine tree.

While we wandered through the gardens, we came across a bride and groom in traditional kimono having their pictures taken.  It was amazing to think that we were in the center of the city.

Matcha (Japanese green tea) and sweets in the tea house were our aim, so we wandered over the bridge and inside for some welcome shade.

Tea was served in the style of a traditional Japanese tea ceremony, which I hadn’t yet tried for fear I would make an offensive mistake.  The casual atmosphere of the tea house was a great place to try it for the first time.  As we sat on our knees on the tatami mat, kind women in kimono smiled, brought out our tea, and then slipped us each a cheat sheet.

Sweets are eaten first, placed with the paper in your left hand while you use the wooden skewer in your right to swiftly cut it into pieces.  It was just the right amount of sweet.  Then on to the matcha.  Place the bowl in left hand, then turn it clockwise 3 times, so to display the fancy design of your bowl outward.  Three sips is all you get, leaving as little foam as possible.  A slurp is always polite.

I was a little worried I was going to scald my tongue, but by the time I got to my tea it was just the right temperature. I should have known — a few centuries of practice, and the Japanese have their tea to perfection.

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Turkish Delights

Not all things in Tokyo are kawaii (adorable cuteness in Japanese pop culture), but let’s face it, many are just too lovable and awesome not to mention.  Like Namja Town.  Dan and I accidentally stumbled upon this gyoza and ice cream nirvana, and were simultaneously bewildered and amazed with what we found.  (By the way, if you follow the links and are confused, have no fear — you are in good company.  I still feel that way.)   Namja Town is a food theme park, where you can try gyoza (dumplings) from different parts of Japan, and visit an ice cream museum full of flavors you never wanted to know existed, including…

Turkish tea ice cream, in a cone, dressed up like a Turkish man.  It was also served by a (seemingly) Turkish man, who twirled it upside down before handing it over, making all the teenage girls in line shriek with delight.  Please take note of the licorice scarf, my favorite part.  This little man didn’t stand a chance.

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A Man in Japan Named Dan

While the lovely Ang regales you with tales of embroidery floss and chicken chitlins, I’ve been stuck at my desk (which also serves as our dining room table, ironing board, craft bench, and La-Z-Boy). Someone has to bring home all those delicious chitlins.

But I hope to occasionally make an appearance here, offering to you the blog equivalent of “Gee, look at that!” I do not pretend to have any expertise in the latest of Tokyo awesomeness. I call it a good day if I can determine, when offered something, if I’m supposed eat it, wipe my hands with it, or attach it as a charm to my cellphone.

That said, Tokyo is in the future in every sense of the word, or at least in a few senses of the word. How many senses of the word are there? Hmm, philosophers to your battle stations! So perhaps you will be amused by what you see through my astigmatic eyes. Or perhaps not!

I realize my slovenly presence on this delightful, charming blog may be a bit jarring, but I promise to tuck in my shirt and run a comb through my hair before stepping through these doors.

First up, packaging:

One of the things I heard about Japan before I arrived was the excessive amount of packaging that is used. And so far, we’ve seen a lot of that to be true. Individually packaged bananas, bags and cup trays for a takeout coffee, etc. Now, as an American, I can’t take a stance of environmental righteousness. We have temperature-controlled outdoor stadiums. Still, a banana has packaging built right into it. It’s cool. Leave it be, Japan.

But packaging can also be brilliant. I start many mornings with onigiri, a triangle of rice about the size of a hockey puck, filled with fish, or vegetable, and then wrapped in nori (toasted seaweed, for the savages in the room). To keep the nori crisp and dry, the packaging prevents the rice from touching the nori until you open it, even though the nori is already wrapped around the rice. I won’t get in to the specifics because it will require a rudimentary understanding of the scientific method, which I don’t possess, but please take my word that it is awesome and the future.

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Victory!

Really exciting stuff happened today at lunch.  Dan and I (ok, it was mostly Dan) successfully ordered food for the first time.  All by ourselves!  Woohoo!  No pointing, or guessing, or hoping that whatever we end up with isn’t still moving.  That’s right, we read the menu, recited what we wanted, and actually received what we expected.  It was a big deal.

And then went home and had a victory meal.

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“Like it, like it! Love love love!”

Last night Dan and I explored the northern part of Tokyo, beginning our promenade at the Nippori station in search of Fabric Town.  WHOA.  This place is my dream come true — fabric store upon notion shop upon specialty lace shop upon fabric store line a full city block; I vow to visit again with a better purpose and more projects in mind.

From there, we walked south to Ueno Park, famous for its springtime cherry blossoms and home to the Tokyo National Museum, The National Science Museum and The National Museum of Western Art.  Because it was getting dark, we decided to visit the museums another day and instead wandered to the Ueno station area, looking for dinner.  Under the train tracks, the nightlife was starting to get loud, and we found 大統領 (Daitouryou, or President) a bumpin’ little izakaya (bar that serves food) and had to stop.  There were no English menus or photos in sight, but the smells of the grill drew us in.

With tables spilling out onto the alley, smoke and beer and grilled meats aplenty, shouting patrons trying to converse over the rattle of the train above, Dan and I sat down and realized our task ahead — that we would actually have to order something.  Our method of choice thus far has been to blindly point at the menu, hope for a few winners, or at the very least for something identifiable.  In the super-packed restaurant, we were seated in a booth with another couple, and I’m sure my panic-stricken face was enough to clue them into our situation.  Tomo and Nana became fast friends as they helped us order (though I realized a language barrier still existed when we ended up with a plate of assorted grilled chicken innards, the house specialty, which surprisingly I enjoyed) and introduced us to shōchū (Japanese liquor tasting sort of like vodka).  I followed Nana’s lead and drank my shōchū with sour lemon soda.  Dan and Tomo drank their sweet potato shōchū (mojōchū) straight up.

As it turns out, Tomo and Nana were from an area an hour outside of Tokyo and were spending the day in the city.  They practiced their English, and we recited the few words we know in Japanese.  But really, our communication consisted of mostly hand waving, laughing and crazy gestures.  “What do you plan to do in Honolulu?”  Nana pretends to swim, and we all laugh.  “What sort of work do you do?”  Dan pretends to type on a keyboard, and again, laughter.  They recommend we visit Tokyo Disney Resort and Nana shrieks “Like it, like it! Love, love, love!” It was easy to see why we became such easy friends.

Well, that and the shōchū.

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Mothra has landed.

We finally made it to Tokyo!  Dan and I arrived in Tokyo on Saturday afternoon, after a smooth and quiet trip across the northern hemisphere.  We saw some beautiful scenery out the window as we flew over the mountains in Alaska.  I think I’ll put that on my list of places to visit.  But back to our current adventure…

It felt like we had A TON of luggage.  We literally only took what we could carry, er, fit on luggage carts.  Here is Dan under the arrival board at Narita Airport: 5 suitcases, 2 backpacks and a briefcase.  We’ve become minimalists (though I still managed to bring 11 pairs of shoes).

After the 2 hour bus ride from the airport into Tokyo, we took a short taxi ride to our apartment in Shibakoen.  Our studio is small but very nice.  Dan found the Super Toilet…enlightening. Later that night we took a stroll through the neighborhood and found a small izakaya restaurant, and after much pointing and head nodding, ended up with some delicious grilled skewers, sashimi and beer.

Our first few days have been eventful — lots of walking and checking out new neighborhoods for our next apartment, a little shopping and sight-seeing, but of course all I want to tell you about is the food.  There has been a lot of food.

On Sunday we had lunch at Curry Lab, a super modernish curry restaurant with tiny TVs at every seat.  Dan was lucky to get Alice in Wonderland.  I had a bean and chicken curry, “made especially with ladies in mind.” Dan had some sort of egg and curry mash-up.  In case you need a little help, this is the secret for a good curry (from the menu):

Sunday evening brought us to Nakameguro for a walk along the river and more izakaya, this time with grilled mackerel and crab and radish salad.  Mmm.

Today we found ourselves at our first ramen house.  I seriously need to practice my slurping.