Peter Green
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March 19 – Movin’ On
We had the morning in Osaka beefore moving to Kyoto.
The beautiful spring weather we’d enjoyed the last few days had given way to rain and the greyness of late winter. But that wasn’t going to save Scud. We were going to go out and do something cultural.
Otherwise I could see how Scud planned on spending his morning.
And I could see how I would spend mine, the computer being hijacked….
I’d wanted to see Himeji Castle for some time. The last hold out of the Toyotomi’s, it’s been used in one set period piece film after another over the decades.
So, the boy and I set out into the drizzle to see what we could see.
The castle is an impressive sight, built on a low hill, it’s white walls dominating the sky, even in the grim, grey light we had.
There was a statue to the side of “the Monkey”, “Bald Rat” Toyotomi Hideyoshi himself, who’d restarted the building of the castle (although it didn’t come to its present form until after his death when the Tokugawas had taken over). A conemporary of Napoleon across the sphere, he goes down as one of the great unifiers of Japan. Risen from the peasants, he was the major patron of the tea ceremony, as well as a promoter of traditional Noh, and a doting father…. when he wasn’t slaughtering his enemies and depopulating Korea out of spite for their having foiled his plans to be King of the World. Rising to power under Oda Nobunaga he took over by betraying the Nobunagas, then tried in vain to stop the same thing happening to his line. (For a good read on this, I recommend Samuel Hawley’s The Imjin War)
What goes around, comes around.
As the boy hadn’t eaten, we figured one tourist trap was as good as the next, and I took the opportunity to get some local food into him.
This place had all of the requirements for a grim Wednesday morning.
Big steaming pots for ramen……
Spurious looking hot dogs…….
Corn.....
some crepe looking things (Jump in here! What are those called?)
And the fixings for takoyaki and onomokiya (and what’s that other one they list in the middle? A soba of some sort?)
But, this was perhaps our last thing to eat in Osaka. And the boy hadn’t had takoyaki here yet.
The decision was made (quickly, for once). Scud needed takoyaki.
They’d sprinkled green stuff on top. I’m not certain what it was.
Scud was content. At least I’d fed him before noon this time.
We continued our tour of the castle grounds, but, with the drizzle, our hearts weren’t in it to a great extent. I couldn’t even talk Scud into posing in one of the cut-outs. We chose to leave early and headed back to the JR station to get back and pack.
It had been a nice stay. The room had been cozy, but that somehow fit well with the feel of the city. And I’d quite liked the atmosphere of gentle dilapidation in our neighborhood (we never did see the impressive rooftop amusement park at our subway stop running).
Rather than messing with the Nozomi, we just took a limited express out to Kyoto, changing once to get to our stop at Gojo. Even with our accumulated luggage, this was a fairly easy bounce.
Once at Gojo we surfaced in Gion, and made our way up to the apartment we’d arranged.
Oh, what a difference it makes to move up.
We now had two beds (to Scud’s applause), a kitchen of workable size (not that I would do much besides make coffee and store snacks
but it did come with a coffee machine (and I’d been carting about 2 kg of Columbian ground from Bogota), and a microwave and range.
And, in revenge for Scud’s blurry pictures, the TV confounded him utterly (but not for long).
Next: A Change of Wa
Note: edited because I'm too slow witted to preview first
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Peter, I think I had that, but raw and sliced finely, did you see the pre-cooked item? was it white? and it tasted quite soft to eat...except that I was told it was not the uterus but something anatomically slightly lower,(use your imagination
) but there was a lot of laughing when they said what it was so maybe my leg was being pulled...Alas, we only saw it in its "crispified" state (as Scud would say).
I took it on faith that it was uterus.
Although I did wonder how to tell if it was really a virgin..........
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Does the 'Thai Cuisine' book have a list of ingredients also written in Thai script Peter?....I can't find mine? but if it is the one, I used to copy out ingredients I needed and hubby would take list to the market when he was in Bangkok for the night and get me what I wanted...very handy...
That's the one. Great for Bangkok shopping trips, indeed (and Chiang Mai, when we were there).
My only complaint about the book is the binding, as it falls apart a bit more with every use.
Mind you, so do I.
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There's David Thompson's highly praised "Thai Food". There's another that is probably better to start out on; I'll see if I can dig it out.
You may also be interested in "Traditional Recipes of Laos" by Phia Sing - authentic and traditional recipes from the Royal Palce at Luang Prabang. Phia Sing was chef at the palalce.
I'd second Phia Singh's book. I've worked with it, and it forms the "text" for a number of the cooking schools in Laos (at least in Luang Prabang).
Another good one, if you can find it (I know Prasantrin has a copy, too), is Thai Cuisine in Rattanakosin Era, by Wandee Na Songkhla. Beyond the recipes, which work well, the "General Knowledge" section in the back is a wealth of info on the handlling and prep of the ingredients (which is where all the work lies). ISBN 974-86722-7-1
Plus, I like how the corrections have all been done on tape and put into the books by hand.
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Blood and guts, there's plenty of that in Thai food.
If you get to the hot pot places down off of Rama IV towards Klong Toey you can order plates of liver and odd bits to go into the broth for a quick splash. I'll look for some pictures once I finish some file transfers here.
As an aside, not technically Thai, but rather Lao, you'll find wonderful yams of raw pig intestines in the North East and Laos, and my favourite menu item was "deep fried virgin pig uterus" at a place in Pakse.
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I'd think the best option is to go through the "Elsewhere in Asia/Pacific" forum in general,
And the Thai cooking at home thread has a disturbing number of 666 posts right now, loaded with good info (and a place for help).
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Chote Chitr is closed until March 25th which has put my Bangkok trip in a disarray since I had planned at least a couple of meals there. 45 mins in a cab to get there and to find it that it is closed for the week I am there, talk about disappointing. Anyway, since I can;t make it, any suggestions as to the "second" best place in a similar category? Want to focus on sea-food.
If you want something in the older parts of town, you could try Je Ngor's kitchen. They've very good fish, but it is more of a Chinese restaurant. I've been to the one on Sathorn, which is more modern, but the old place was still there last year, somewhere off of Charoen Krung towards Yaowaraj. It's on Nancy's maps.
Another good bet is Taling Pling, off of Silom on Soi Pan by the Hindu temple. Again, a modern interior, but they do some nice things with seafood. A friend even gave me their cookbook.
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You should definitely cook them long, slow and low. Looks like the Metropole have used a terrine mould. In which case you need nothing more than flat object and a brick to press it down into the mould whilst it's chilling. The high gelatin in the ears should firm up quite nicely.
Yup, piece of cake.
'ear! 'ear!
P.S. - I still like my pig ears not so soft, with a little crunch and grind to them.
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Thanks very much for this, Fengyi! In particular, with the work you have and where you are (and the internet being what it is in Beijing at times) this is particularly appreciated.
I'm looking forward to getting back there next year!
Cheers,
Peter
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The picture of us is missing! How sad!
I thought the tacos were the Tinga--chicken, beef, and pork in chile tomato sauce, says their website.
And my pound cake was excellent! Humph!
With Scud present there was a chance for a proper picture of the both of us. Unfortunately, from where he sat, and with his composition skills (and the short focus on that little camera) what came out was a picture of the left side of my nose and a tiny bit of Rona's smile.
They had both types on the menu that evening. My notes worked this time.
And, yes, the pound cake was the Prince of Pound cakes. (but we didn't get a picture).
Okay, I'll get back to work now.
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Wow. The Scud is looking very handsome ne! I've sometime transplanted food can be better than what you'd really get. Interesting to see something non Japanease. Did you get a chance to try yoshoku? I just finished watching Jyoou no lunch (j-drama) so I'm really craving some of those dishes.
We didn't get too much into the Yoshoku until Tokyo, and I must admit I was more interested in seeing what some of the chefs were doing with putting some Western touches into Japanese dishes (but that's another story).
But, as another comment, I picked up the new collection of old Murakami Haruki short stories "Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman" with its story "The Year of Spaghetti". It makes me smile to read it.
Okay, I'm back home, and jetlagging. Time to have a bath and then go to sleep.
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March 18 – More Male Flesh and Thongs Than a Germany Beach Movie
(that was too good a line on Scud’s part not to repeat)
This was one of the treats for us, and all credit (the good part) goes to Rona. She’d snagged us tickets to the Grand Championships being held at the Osaka Prefectural Gymnasium, which Rona and I had checked out a couple of days before.
Somewhere along the way, I’d made up my mind (what there is of it) that this was a chance to really immerse ourselves in sumo. Rona had advised that things wouldn’t really get going until the afternoon, but somehow that hadn’t really sunk in.
The sumo began at around 9, but we weren’t there for the very beginning. Instead, we’d been drawn a little aside by a nearby shrine with a great set of teeth.
This sidetrip used up about an hour, at which point we decided we really needed to get inside the gym.
“What do you mean “we”?”, said the boy.
Once seated, we could see what Rona meant by “it doesn’t get going until later”.
Yeah……….
……..“kind of empty” would sum it up pretty well.
Still, this gave us plenty of opportunity to worm our way down to ringside and getter a better view of the action. The right leg up, the left leg up, the slapping the wrestlers go through, the ceremonial squatting, and the ref in their somber black clothing taking a break from time to time to get a smoke.
I didn’t come to this with much knowledge of sumo, other than what I’d seen at a Hawaiian friend’s place. I knew it involved very large men pushing each other. And there was rice and salt involved.
I hadn’t realized that there were no weight classes, and some of the fights looked, at first, to be quite mismatched.
But, more often than not, the smaller guys (at least in this, the introductory session) were able often to evade the larger fighters, and get them to lose their balance.
And there’s a lot of face pushing.
There may not be a lot of people in the stands, but they were vocal. One girl was obviously there supporting a particular group, and she would yell out encouragement from her box, a blanket drawn up around her for warmth, and a box of pastries.
At the boxes you could see paper shopping bags neatly laid out. These were the prepared set lunches that we’d notice a couple of days earlier.
It was fun to watch. The bouts are quick, and the ceremonial that goes on before the fight is pretty cut and dried, not the drawn out dance/warmup that you’ll see with Muay Thai.
There are a few cases of people crashing out of the ring (one of which involved both fighters, and the judges had to confer to decide on the winner), but there’s not the sort of mayhem you see in Korean ssireum, where it seems like every fight ends with two guys unconscious on the concrete outside of the rim.
That’s not to say it was all kindness and light. One fellow went down wrong on the edge of the ring, and it looked like his back was badly done in. The traditional paramedics were there quickly enough, and dealt with things by throwing salt on the ring where he’d been hurt.
We’d been through about three hours of this now, and our tummies were talking to us. While breakfast may be the most important meal of the day, I can’t say it’s something I indulge in. I’d had Scud get some yogurt into him while I did coffee in the morning, but that was a long time ago.
Each floor had its own souvenir/food stand, and so we wandered over to see what we could see.
Throughout the stadium we saw Hello Kitty posters. Scud was curious about this, and so I explained to him that Hello Kitty actually weighs 300 lbs, and was in the competition to move into the top ranked makuuchi division, when Hello was badly hurt by Doraemon, who had used an illegal technique (kinjite) to break off Kitty’s jaw. Doraemon was disqualified, and, in an act of attrition, he had his ears removed, but Hello Kitty never wrestled again.
It’s odd, Scud stopped believing most things I say a long, long time ago.
That’s probably a good thing.
I sprang for one of the bento for Scud. These were in pretty little Styrofoam boxes done up to resemble wood.
Inside was a neatly compartmentalized set of small, bite sized bits of food.
Fish, prawns, rice, more rice, fish with corn, and a sweet mochi wrapped in sesame leaf. Sorry about the glare on the plastic wrap, but I had to shoot this quick, as once Scud was through the wrapper, it didn’t last long.
The stands were filling out now, as the higher level fighters entered the ring. These were the bad boys we were here to see.
And so Rona made her appearance.
She’s much smarter than us. She saw no reason for being here before lunch.
And she brought snacks.
Snacks are important.
This was a crispy little thing in wax paper. No idea of the name, but I’ll accept input.
Likewise, she’d brought some excellent pound cake, and her latest experiments in caramels.
Oh, here’s a picture of Rona and myself. I’d dressed as a bag of Old Dutch BBQ flavour chips for the outing. (Scud insisted on sampling one of the bags)
The stadium was taking on a picnicy atmosphere (yes, I know that’s not English, but neither am I), with crowded boxes of merry drinkers and eaters, few of whom seemed at all interested in the matches. The paper sacks were being opened, and there were bento everywhere.
I felt the time was appropriate for a refreshing beverage (which generally means after 6 a.m.). I’m not exactly certain what it is, but I have a suspicion that it’s shochu, lemon, and soda.
Unfortunately (and I blame the Boy, who had the wee camera) this came out a little fuzzy, like a picture of Nessy. But, it does document the effects of compression on cotton candy as perfected by eGullet’s own Rona (aka Prasantrin).
The final matches were great fun to watch. There were (to me) a surprising number of Russians in the top level, but the real shouting in the crowd was for the West over the East. In one instance all of the schoolchildren who had come were chanting their support for a particular local, and Rona was concerned that the kids would start crying if he lost (and they would, she assured me).
At this point, Scud was running a little low on sumo enthusiasm, which is where the title for this section came up. The final bout came up, the winner twirled the bow (and dropped it), and the matches came to an end for the day.
At which point, we needed food.
This evening was something different.
We considered our choices, and then, out of the blue, went for something completely different.
(Another picture of Rona, with me in the background)
Tonight, we were having Mexican.
What!!?? You were expecting octopus or something?
Scoff if you will, I like to see what differences can crop up in transplanted cuisines. This place was quite good, with home-made tortillas, and the sort of attention to detail that the Japanese can put into things. These “choriz taco”, with fresh vegetable and potato toppings and very tasty chorizo sausage, were an excellent gap filler.
The nachos came with good sour cream, guac, and tastefully shredded onion. But what I loved was the beef tendon and bean soup. This was really, really good, the tendons at that soft melting point that can be so good.
And then there was a quesadilla, stuffed with cheese and chicken.
And they had Herradura Reposada. There’s nothing like tequila to put me in good form…..okay, there are a few things that’ll put me in good form….but tequila’s a lot faster.
And we had to finish up with a photo opportunity at a nearby spot.
Next: Trading Places
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March 17 – Nighthawks At The Diner
Scud was down and out. The trans Pacific flight was having its way with him.
Me, I was another story. I wanted to roam.
I like walking. You get a better feel for a place when your feet are on the ground. And you can go where your fancy may take you.
Myself, as I age, I find I’m growing fonder and fonder of the empty spaces. The parts of the world that don’t get on postcards. I exited my place, on the other side of the tracks, and cut under the JR line and hung a right.
Like every night so far, I could hear the karaoke coming out of this small place built into the underpass of the rail line. There were others I would pass, and sometimes you could see inside you could see the people, all with a pleasant smile on their faces while the microphone was passed hand to hand, their eyes’ glinting from the shochu.
In contrast to that sense of quiet community, there’s something just “lonely” about a vending machine late at night in an empty quarter. Like a prostitute too old to work the trade, but too poor to give it up.
The station’s shut, the grills down, and not a person in sight. Not even a taxi driver to urinate in a corner.
You come across the lockers, and you wonder if someone’s left children inside. It’s a recurring image, and I blame Ryu Murasaki and his Coin Locker Babies for planting it’s seed in my brain. There’s a film version in production now (if not already released) and the notes say that it’ll star Tadanobu Asano. After Ichii The Killer (directed by Takashi Miike) and what is one of my favourite films for watching over and over - Shark Skin Man and Peach Hip Girl - I can sort of see him in the story.
In 1994, when I was last in Japan, I was struck then by the large numbers of homeless living in Tokyo’s parks. It’s gotten no better, that was obvious.
I’d heard, as a youth, when my friend’s parents (nisei and sansei) went to Japan for the first time, about how the most amazing things would be thrown away. At night in Osaka you can find all sorts of treasure on the street. Vacuum clearners, rice cookers, microwaves, furniture..... Where do they all go? Can you furnish a dwelling fully from what’s left on the evening stoop?
There were tents on the streets, tucked in against the corners where no one would see them. Pots, plants, a chair, the accouterments of a life of some sort in many cases.
It wasn’t just the Bubble Economy. This has been around for quite some time, the marginals of Japanese society. A great opening scene in the Beat Takeshi classic Violent Cop, had a group of young thugs terrorizing an old tent dweller. And a classic anime, Tokyo Godfathers, makes play of similar material.
Hmmm……I should look into that. Did Violent Cop predate A Clockwork Orange?
Is there a Milk Bar in the neighbourhood?
But the dead zones only go on for so long in a modern city (at least for me, but then consider Murakami Haruki’s Hard Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World – with it’s grim parallel land of kappa), and soon you find yourself with life unfolding again.
A curry shop sparks the dark.
The lights get brighter, like flowers opening up, and the people come back into the picture, straggling into the small restaurants and bars.
By now I was closing on Namba, and the bright lights that never stop.
I’d had enough. This was a good point to head back to home.
Next: More Male Flesh and Thongs Than a Germany Beach Movie
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And to think I thought you were wrapping up this travelogue for its end. But you're not... so whoopee!
I can't wait to do my own travelogue in a couple of months when I go visit Manila and our son Jai for a couple of weeks. I'll show y'all what real Filipino food looks like.
Yes! I desperately need to have a reason to go to the PI.
I'm counting on you, Doddie!
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Yes! Auntie's food pics! I've been waiting for this!
(Does it have to end?)
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March 17, 2008 - A Wanderer
Sometimes I can tax people’s patience. And remember, I’m Canadian, and our taxes are really high.
Scud will put up with a lot, but what he really doesn’t like is having to wander for hours in search of a restaurant.
I look upon it as a voyage of discovery. Scud’s looking at my knees as a target of opportunity.
We’d been back up by the Glico Man to take in the night lights of Osaka, and from here, looking at my map, it was clearly a simple matter to make it to the famous curry place I’d read about.
Yeah, right.
We might’ve stopped in on Sammy’s Ebisu, but that would have required a decision to be made, and the boy and I are every bit as good at making decisions as Rona and I were.
In fact, Sammy’s is a place that Rona and I hadn’t been able to make a deceion about the previous day, so it’s good to see that consistency was ruling the roost with us.
This is a place replicating different old parts of town with classical Osakan dishes. It’s in the books, but not for us.
Because, I’d already made a decision.
Coming back to the original thread of this (I did have one…somewhere back there….) I’d wanted to get some curry. I’ve been a fan of Korean curry for ages, having survived on it pretty much (along with rice) for a really bad month in Houston back when I was young. I could probably get by just eating the blocks of ready-to-stir roux (I tried it once. My fingernails kept pushing out turmeric yellow for about a week).
There were a couple of important kare landmarks in town, but this one was close, and accessible. Once I find the ^(*^&*^ brochure (buried in a suitcase that I am not about to tamper with, given my limited time here in Hong Kong).
I found the area. I found the street. I even did the most unmanly of things…..I asked directions.
We were close.
Real close.
Finally, I admitted that I couldn’t find it.
I broke down and asked a cop.
He was quite nice, and pointed me directly at it. I walked over, and looked confused.
He came by and told me, in no uncertain terms, “I just told you, it’s closed! Not today!”
Okay, given my Japanese, maybe I shouldn’t say “no uncertain”, but that was the gist of it, reinforced by the fact that he had his microphone on, and the whole street was now staring at us.
Scud was not amused.
“This is what I was worried about. We’d spend ages getting here, and then it’d be closed! It’s just like when you dragged us across Beijing looking for that restaurant!”
“That was Loft. They were open.”
“But it took you three hours to get us there!”
It appeared I had a potential mutiny on my hands. I figured I’d better feed him sooner, rather than later. Either that or push him in the river, and make it look like an accident. Maybe if I said he was a Hanshin Tigers’ fan?
I briefly considered having Ultraman hand cut our noodles (or is that Masked Rider?), but then passed on the idea.
Finally (well, after ten minutes) we took something that just looked good.
This place was doing Chanko (?), meals for the sumo. It looked like a good feed, and it had enough fish and rice to quell Scud’s incipient rebellion. If nothing else, I’d pour alcohol into him and then leave him with the cheque.
The restaurant itself was, by my standards, quite attractive. Lots of old wood, a rickety staircase, and no customers.
(actually, the downstairs was doing good business, which was why we were upstairs)
But, when we tried to order, we ran into some general confusion. This required a few phone calls downstairs. After a few minutes, we worked out what we thought was the story.
The meal came with “free refills”. However, as it was only 90 minutes until closing, they didn’t feel we should order this, as we wouldn’t get our money’s worth.
Okay, my basis for that is rather tenuous, but I think that’s what the deal was.
So we ordered other stuff.
First up was a plate of gyoza. I have no idea of what it was stuffed with, but it was generally meaty.
Next was a great dish. Crispy fried stuff on sticks. Generally, I think of fried stuff and stuff on sticks as two completely different food groups. But this makes senses. You get all the natural goodness of deep fat frying, along with fewer serious burns!
Scud approved of this. He was getting back into a better mood.
And then it was a plate of sushi. Scud had a good comment, and one I put some credence in, given that amount of raw fish he’s eaten in his life.
“it’s not so much the fish, but the rice that’s really good here.”
And my notes indicated the same, that the rice were “like pearls left in your mouth”.
So, what was on the plate? Eel (fresh or salt?), tuna, prawns, salmon roe, a bit of raw beef – marbled better than marble, squid, some pale but fatty fish, salmon, and octopus.
And then it was grilled squid, with a good soy marinade. This was incredibly soft, and set the tone for squid that I would have throughout the trip. Or, rather, as Scud commented on the tentacles “parts are soft, but then the ends are crispified.”
Remind me to have a chat with his English teacher.
Perhaps its just having spent too long in the wrong places, but I find the Japanese squid to be much more “buttery” than what I’m used to in the Gulf and Canada.
And, for some bizarre reason that neither of us can quite recall, we ordered pizza. Why pizza?
But it was actually quite good, more like a flattened quiche than a pizza, with a lot of egg in it, some fresh tomatoes, onion, and corn. Gotta have corn on your pizza. Good finger food, helped out by traditional Japanese Tabasco sauce.
And French fries. Another traditional Kansai dish. This time with a dollop of katsup, as opposed to the more standard mayonnaise. The fries weren’t as crispy as I might like but the salt loading met with my approval.
When did the Japanese start using mayo? Is it something that only came recently – Meiji or later? Or is the discovery of the emulsification of eggs a common element throughout the world’s civilizations?
I’d been drinking Suntory Malt, which was on tap. Not a bad brew, with a solid flavour. It was a good match for the different foods we were working through. But, when Scud proved to still be hungry, we ordered another nigiri sushi, and I called for some sake.
The cuts on the second plate were noticeably larger. And they’d become more dramatic with their garnishing (or so it seemed to me). I think they might have slid another piece on there, too. Maybe we were growing on them?
Next – More Wandering
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March 31, 2008 - Chaos Theory and its Application to Dim Sum
I’m in reverse sticker shock.
After two weeks of Japan and “Hey! That’s only 1,000 yen! That sounds reasonable!” I’ve descended again into the wide world of reasonably priced things.
The in-flight mag on Cathay had talked about a number of the older places in Hong Kong. I had only, really, the one day. My arrival had been late in the evening, and I was still feeling rough from the final night in Tokyo. So it was a wash.
What I found myself with was the morning. Last night had been a fog, and that in turn had given leave to the soft drizzle outside today. The sort of rain that challenges you to put up an umbrella, knowing that it will find a way to carry itself around your pathetic shield. This isn’t the weather for carting around a video.
First, from my place in Causeway, it was the Metro to Central. There were a pair of old places there, the Luk Yu Tea House, dating back to 1933, and the Lin Heung Tea House, which went 7 years earlier, to 1926.
At the Metro station, I was momentarily perplexed to find that the underground wouldn’t take bills. How could it not take bills? But then someone steered me in the direction of the change office. That helped. I was going to need to adjust.
Alighting at Central I worked my way back up the hill, through the little markets and the eternal backdrop of clothing stores and beauty salons, and through the food.
I passed first the venerable Luk Yu Tea House, and considered stopping there. But then I thought, better to get to the Lin Heung first, and if I’ve the room, I can stop back here. Otherwise it may be a morning stop tomorrow before my flight.
I found the Lin Heung down at the far end of Wellington. I climbed the stairs and followed the basic lesson for dining in Asia.
I stood there and looked large and dumb.
Instantly a helpful waiter came by, said “only one?” and then escorted me to a table where I was pinned into a chair against the wall, my 7 companions at dining not paying the least attention to me, they were busy talking, eating, and reading the morning papers.
The water dropped of bowl, chopsticks, and tea cup, and then brought a small basin of water over, which was for “wash your cup!”
I can deal with that.
I’d read the the Lin Heung still carried on the trolley service. But I didn’t know how my patience would do with this. Observing the others, I found that the trolleys would appear from the far side of the room laden with food, and then be set upon by an angry mob who would ravage the contents.
So, I took my chit, and very gingerly extracted myself from my chair, moving like a spastic mantis to make certain I didn’t upend any of the large aluminum teapost strategically meaning the floor space in between the tables.
I grabbed three steamers, had my chit chopped, and then reintroduced me to my seat, successfully avoided any full facial falls into my food.
The neighbors did look up at this point, and there were some smiles. I suppose three at one time for one person may not be the standard routine.
I was in a mushroom mood.
There was a mouse ear fungus wrapped in cabbage (I think) with another mushroom imbedded in some very tender chicken meat.
And there was some eel, good and oily, with a bit of chili oil worked in there as well. Not too bony, only the main spine giving me pause.
Back to mushrooms, there was another one of some form of meatball with three big solid brown mushrooms capping the rather amorphous mass of mystery meat (shrimp?). Unfortunately, this appears to have escaped my mad picture taking. I must be getting old.
The screaming and yelling was growing on me. The fellow at the next time was either insane, or attached to a blue tooth device, as he was bawling his head off. Countering that, however, the two older people by me said nothing, only read their papers and drank tea. The blind woman to my left was gaily chatting with her two friends, and the older fellow with his daughter, who had just sat down, were busy waving for a cart to come over.
I ventured another steamer, this a standard dumpling affair, but it’s usually good.
Finishing up, I considered dallying. My teapot had just been topped off again. But then I thought that it might be more considerate to clear the space, as the throng was going.
I took my chit, smiled to my lunchmates (of whom at least four smiled back! People are friendlier nowadays) and went to pay my bill.
I had the brief enjoyment of an unexpected reaction. She was engrossed in her receipts, and when I passed her my bill, the cashier didn’t look up. But when she did pass me the money, she raised her gaze which probably encompassed a field of vision of my chest, and then went “Whoa!” and looked up farther and smiled.
I was surprised at her surprise, this being a fairly famous place, but I figure, if I can make anyone’s day a little more surreal, then I’m doing my job.
Next – Aimless Wandering (sound familiar?)
P.S. - I promise now that Ill get back to work on the Japan stuff!
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Look! Peter Green joined us for a guest appearance! (Maybe you'd have to read his Japan travelogue to get the humour in that.)
But then he had to leave...restaurant rules, you see.
I thought my red cummerbund in the picture would've been perfectly acceptable for their dress code. Some people have no fashion sense.
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Can't say, although I saw some very good looking baked goods at a table occupied by two middle aged ladies nearby.
I supposes I should have had some dessert.
A little cheesecake might have been appropriate, perhaps?
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March 17 – The Sordid Depths of the Otaku World
Okay, let me get this picture out of the way.
The name sort of says it all.
The manga district here is only about four or so blocks long, but they pack a lot into those four blocks.
Manga, anime, and really, really, really interesting textured advertising. I’d post the photo we have, but it may not be considered appropriate for this site, as the food tie-in is tenuous (maybe in the dairy products thread?).
I did a once through with Scud, and then looked for the chance to get some writing done. Luckily, I found a nice little café with internet access, which is where I wrote up the earlier Osaka stuff.
The service was, I must say, excellent, even for Japan. For some reason, they don’t allow photos inside, which is a pity. It was done up as a proper little European café, with a small display ledge running up near the ceiling, with decorative plates all on display.
I had a glass of chardonnay, and unlimbered my Apple and got to work, while Scud was out exploring. He had instructions to come back in an hour, but for some reason he came back early and insisted on hanging out with me, ordering a mocha.
Honestly, I don’t see what all the fuss is about. Yes, they did have framed pictures of the waitresses up front, usually with either a pout on their face, or a little of the coquette, but everything seemed more about very formal, almost robot-like perfection in how the drinks and food were served, rather than anything lewd.
Oh, yes, and there was a little bell on the table to use for calling, if needed.
The otaku come in for a lot of criticism. I see this in the local magazines I’ve been checking out. The letter sections seem particularly vehement, labeling them as “socially inept” and with “zero interaction skills”, but when I asked Scud about this, he said he’d been surprised at how social they were, clustering in the manga and anime sections, discussing the latest issues One Piece and the new release of In The Garden Of Sinners, comparing maids and checking their stalking schedules.
I’m a little curious about the origins of the word. I’d originally taken it as a Japanization of “techie”, something I’d read in one of William Gibson’s earlier books (probably Idoru), but Rona had descrtibed it as being purely Japanese. Regardless, it’s a term in worldwide use now, it would seem.
Obviously, I’ll touch more on these matters as the trip progresses.
But, after finishing up in the eMaid Café, we were in search of food.
I’d read in one of the pieces about a place in Namba that was famous for their curry, the curry having been included in a famous story (I’ll have to dig the reference up, but it’s buried in the luggage right now).
This set the mood for a lot of my dining with Scud. Hours of wandering in search of the right meal.
Next: hours of wandering
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P.P.P.S. - It's a good thing I still have two more nights. But that'll be Hong Kong, so I'd best keep it out of this thread (and start another! Remember how bad I was in tying together the Americas?)
How were the blt sandwiches? I find Japanese bacon to be too flaccid to be used in sandwiches. Does Cathay have the good stuff?
Let me go check! It's an open face. I'd put up pictures, but It's scary looking inside my hand luggage.
Yes, I'd agree on the flacid part. It's a pretty enough piece of pig, but the cut is more like back bacon, with the bit of cartilage or whatever it is (you know, the white thing) running through one end and making it a little tough to chew.
For a BLT, it's not crispy at all, which is a shame.
But it looks good!
hmmm.....sea tangle, salmon, plum, and - best of all - tuna and mayonnaise in a rice ball!
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P.P.P.S. - It's a good thing I still have two more nights. But that'll be Hong Kong, so I'd best keep it out of this thread (and start another! Remember how bad I was in tying together the Americas?)
You could probably just tack it on to the Hong Kong reports topic, since that's where a crapload of individual reports were merged into one topic.
How were the blt sandwiches? I find Japanese bacon to be too flaccid to be used in sandwiches. Does Cathay have the good stuff?
Let me go check! It's an open face. I'd put up pictures, but It's scary looking inside my hand luggage.
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Happy travels! And don't forget to check in from the airport!
P.S. Give us your considered thoughts on beer and sort-of-beers some time - either here or in the beer topic.
Thanks, Helen!
And, don't worry, I have plenty of time for considered thoughts on beer. After Popeye's and my frequent trips to the convenience store at Roppongi Crossing, I've spent quite some time reviewing the subject matter.
P.S. - Cathay allowed me to bring in a guest to the lounge! Scud lucks out. Onigiri, bacon lettuce tomato sandwiches, inarizushi, cup o' noodles, and a Wolf Blass chardonnay (I should check the year).
P.P.S. - Scud spotted a toy shop here called Akibahara and he couldn't stop himself. He had to go in.
P.P.P.S. - It's a good thing I still have two more nights. But that'll be Hong Kong, so I'd best keep it out of this thread (and start another! Remember how bad I was in tying together the Americas?)
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ahhhh...
I've had my last bath.
I'm really going to miss the bathtubs here.
I'm taking one last Yebisu with me to the airport.
And the machine shuts down now.
Thai cuisine -- where's the offal?
in Elsewhere in Asia/Pacific: Cooking & Baking
Posted
Maybe, but it might've just been trichynosis.